It’s Not All About Sex…

I posted what I hope is an interesting explanation of what BDSM means to me on my other blog, illicitthoughts and felt it would work very well on MsT also.

So, in case you missed it first time around… here we go again!


love receiving feedback and comments on all three of my blogs.

It makes my day that someone has, not only taken the time to read my stories or articles, but has gone that extra mile and actually shared their thoughts with me.

I will take this opportunity to say a massive thank you to all my readers who have ever left me a comment. If I don’t always reply, it is because I am a WP dimwit that hasn’t checked the Unapproved folder on my dashboard… trust me I value every comment and always try to reply to you!

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This post has been prompted by two recent events.

I have a lovely new friend with whom I have been enjoying many truly stimulating and thought-provoking conversations, about all sorts of things, but in particular, our shared interest in BDSM.

Inspired by some of our discussions, I tried my hand at a new angle in my erotic writing, by creating a story based on a relationship between a masochistic sub and her sadist Dom. I loved the challenge of trying to get the dynamics just right, trying to set the mood and recreate the feelings of each party involved in the scene. The level of physical brutality and the language I used in the story was a change of style for me and I found it incredibly liberating to step away from my usual patterns and stretch myself. I was beyond delighted when my friend, (who is much more au fait with the S side of S/M than I am), gave me a glowing thumbs up for accuracy and mood. The next day I was equally thrilled when another friend, this time a female masochist sub, said, “Fuck yes, Yes yes yes. I may or may not be playing with myself to that story rn…” Trust me, as a writer of erotica, THAT is the best review you can get!

However, not all my comments were 100% glowing! (And, for the record, let me say that I never expect to receive only positive feedback. In my opinion all feedback, positive, negative and everything in-between is valuable to me as a writer. There is always room to learn and improve.)

This morning I read a comment from a reader, MyLovingWife, who had been reading my new story “Sir and Little Girl… Knife Play“, perfectly happily until they encountered the word “slut”, which completely threw them and, in their own words, “it turned me off“. My reader also felt that the physical interaction in my story could be seen as “abusive”.

I replied by thanking them, sincerely, for their feedback and clarifying that I never condone abuse in any form and that, in the context of BDSM, the word “slut” is in fact a term of affection or praise even. We entered into an interesting discussion from there and, I’m pleased to say, I do believe we both left it feeling that we understood each other’s points of view much better than we did at the start.

This is another reason I love receiving comments; even ones that could be perceived as negative do not have to lead to confrontation or discord, and can in fact be the spark of an exchange of views and even the start of a new friendship. Personally, I didn’t perceive MyLovingWife’s comments as negative at all. Rather, I identified with their unease with words and descriptions that are foreign or offensive to them, having been there myself several times.

I thought about this encounter, my own ever-developing and altering attitudes towards sex and BDSM, and the conversations between my friend and I, and I felt that writing a piece about what BDSM is, what is means, (to me and to others), would be an interesting exercise, for me, and hopefully, for my readers!

I also expect I will receive comments from people who will have very different opinions and beliefs to mine, as well as from people who are much more well informed and knowledgeable about the world of BDSM than I am.

I welcome it all and expect to learn from anything you guys choose to share with me.


I have always been fascinated by everything to do with paraphilia. The diverse range of things us human beings can be attracted to or aroused by is, it seems, limitless! I have read about the subject… a lot!

Also, I have had a leaning towards BDSM for as long as I can remember having the feeling that I am a sexual being. For me, sexual arousal has alway been linked to power, vulnerability, dominance, submission and yeah… pain! It is simply how I am wired. I struggled with it, denied it, pushed it away for a long time.

I have to tell you, accepting myself as I am, and educating myself about my needs and desires, is perhaps the most liberating experience of my life. I no longer feel embarrassed, ashamed, odd or different.

I am not bad, dirty, (well, yeah I am, but you know what I mean!), disgusting, perverted or sick.

I have a sexual orientation as real and as valid as heterosexuality, homosexuality, bisexuality and all the other combinations and permutations you can derive from those!

FYI: If you are reading this, and you consider anything outside of heterosexuality to be wrong in any way, this is not the blog for you, my friend!

So, allow me, if you will, to clear up some common misconceptions about BDSM with a few very useful graphics.

IMG_2988

IMG_2989I hope it is clear from these excellent charts that BDSM is an enjoyable, reciprocal and, most importantly, consensual form of relationship between two adults who share complimentary needs.

I have found people in the BDSM world to be some of the most open, caring, nonjudgemental and friendly, welcoming people I have ever encountered. A true Dominant or submissive is highly respectful in their interactions with others and they are usually highly skilled communicators.

People outside the lifestyle struggle to understand the dynamics of a *D/s relationship and do often see it as a form of abuse. The language used in BDSM can be confusing for people outside it. Even I struggled with the word “slut” before I truly understood the way it is used in a BDSM context. To quote a female friend who is a sub, “being called a slut makes me feel like I’ve really achieved something!”

Other subs enjoy being called, “whore”, “bitch”, “little girl”, “little one”, “pet”, “slave”, the list goes on!

To put it simply… as long as the person being called the name is happy to be called it, even derives pleasure from it, surely that is all that matters?

A final point I very much want to make is this… It really, really isn’t all about sex!

That is perhaps the single biggest misconception about BDSM out there. People think that we live this way because it is all about dressing up, tying each other up, slapping, spanking and whipping each other, having all manner of kinky sex… and yes, we do!

But there is so much more to it than that.

Quoting my ever-so-elequant friend who described it as;

It’s meeting needs that cannot be meet in any other way. You’re open and vulnerable in a way you simply aren’t in any other relationship. This is something we need in our souls. What’s more intimate than filling that space in someone’s very core, or they in you? It’s the closest we can get to truly joining our hearts I believe. It’s trust, it’s communication, it’s an exchange of energy. Nothing else comes close in my experience.”

Now… that is definitely about more than wearing latex and handcuffs!

A BDSM relationship will be based on the most honest, intense, soul-baring communication you could possibly imagine. A Dom needs to understand his sub inside out in order to fulfil her needs, and his, without causing her, or him, physical, emotional, psychological or spiritual harm. A sub needs to understand and know her Dom fully, in order to be able to trust her wellbeing and safety to him and, in turn, offer him her greatest gift… her submission.

I have barely scratched the surface of BDSM, believe me!

If I have sparked your interest, there is a wealth of information out there, some true, some false, so be selective what you read. Trust me when I tell you that 50 Shades of Grey is definitely NOT to be considered a handbook!

If you have comments or questions, you know I will be delighted to read and reply to them. If you have more information, or can point me in the direction of more, please do so!

I will end by saying this…

Whatever it is that you like to do, whatever makes you happy, as long as it does no harm to anyone else, just do it, enjoy it and have fun!

Leave self judgement, shame and society’s ignorance and bigotry at the door.

Life is short people! Live it how you want to.

*Note: D/s can be male/female, female/male, male/male, female/female and everything in-between! I simply used Dom/sub in my personal context of male/female

**Many thanks to MyLovingWife and to my lovely friend for inspiring me today! 

Copyright, 2015, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.

 

Calling all readers and writers of erotica!

I was asked yesterday on twitter why I write erotica.

My answer was easy… it is enormous fun and, to be honest, it comes easier and more naturally to me than any other genre. Whatever that says about me… I will leave to my readers and, possibly my future shrink, to decide.

I have  been asked if I ever get off on other people’s writing… well, doh! Of course!

I have come across, (pardon the dreadful pun!), many excellent writers, and have certainly felt tingles whilst reading their stories.

If a person can write about sex in an arousing manner, avoiding cliché, whilst maintaining a balance between fantasy and credibility, it is, in my humble opinion, a sure indicator of whether the writer possesses true talent and skill.

It is no easy feat… all too often we fall foul of “quivering staffs” and, dare I quote it… *“puckered love cave”?!

And, fair is fair! I would never ask you a question I  am not prepared to answer myself so…

Yes, I do get aroused whilst writing my own fiction too! I figure if it is not making me squirm in my seat as I type,  it is not going to make you squirm either! So, I sit at my kitchen table, picturing scenes, sometimes miming out some actions to see if I am describing them accurately… yeah, my neighbours get an eyeful!

If you would do me the great favour of answering my polls I would be simply delighted and forever grateful. I promise it will not take more than 3 minutes of your time!

I am always striving to improve and always aim to please my readers.

I very much want to keep giving you all stories and material that interests and, yep, stimulates you!

No need to leave any personal details, just click on your answers, and if you can expand at all, please do so in my comments section. Feedback is always welcome and I hope it helps me improve and keep y’all happy!

Thanks guys and gals!

I do love y’all!


*as if you didn’t already know! 50 Shades of Grey, EL James.

Copyright, 2015, MsTsecretgarden.wordpress.com

All rights  reserved.

Sir and Little Girl… Knife Play

This story originally appeared in my other blog, illictthoughts, but I decided to reblog it here, just in case you missed it!

It’s a slightly new angle for me, but I’m quite pleased with how it turned out and am planning to make it into a series.

Please leave me feedback about whether you like this style or not, what you’d like to see covered in future stories, etc, once you’ve read it! Thanks! x


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She felt the cold of the blade rest against her hip bone. She bit her lip and opened her eyes.

This time he had decided to allow her to watch rather than be blindfolded.

Her wrists were securely bound to the bedposts with metal cuffs. Her legs spread wide, ankles shackled.

Wearing a matching lace bra and thong and nothing else, she lay waiting. Watching him.

His dark eyes narrowed as they met her deep green ones.

The hint of a menacing twitch playing around his lips was all that indicated his pleasure at her anticipation, her uncertainty, her fear. He relished the hardening he felt in his trousers.

Watching her breathing increase; observing the flush that crept along her jawline and over her cheeks; seeing her pupils dilate; the dewy glistening of sweat resting on her upper lip; all combined to create the heady vision lying before him. Flooded with power and lust, his senses razor-sharp, everything around him refocused into slow motion. Hawk-like, no movement or reflex of hers escaped his scrutiny.

There was nothing quite like seeing her scared and unsure of what was about to happen. Except, of course, for the transformation that took place behind her eyes when she realised what was in store for her.

She watched him. A mixture of desire and fear in equal measure making her feel slightly lightheaded, even whilst lying bound and prone on the bed. She licked her lips, tasting the saltiness on her upper lip and felt the wetness between her legs seep through the thin fabric of her sheer underwear. His wrist flicked and the blade severed the thin strip of lace on her hip, then he quickly flashed over to cut the other side, leaving the diaphanous triangle of material resting on her public bone.

A low chuckle from his throat as he traced the tip of the knife over her skin, from one hip bone to the other, up along her stomach and circling her navel, dipping ever so slightly into it and back out to leisurely travel up towards her breasts. Her ribcage expanding and contracting, faster and faster, as her eyes followed the blade’s journey across her pale white skin, watching the faint pink roadmap of scratches it left in its wake. He hadn’t pierced the skin… yet.

He rested the knife-edge flat against her sternum, beneath her bra, between her breasts and he watched her. His vision keenly focused, ears tuned to the sound of her rapid breathing. He could smell the chemicals seeping from her pores, a mixture of fresh sweat, her own special scent of vanilla and toffee, and something else… fear.

A sense of complete concentration descended over him. He twisted the blade, careful not to knick her flesh, but only to snap the bra, releasing her breasts from it and they bounced free.

Using the tip of the knife he once again charted a course, this time around her erect nipples, toying with them, his eyes flicking between his hand and her face to gauge her state.

Her eyes were closed, breathing heavy, face flushed. He breathed her name and she opened her eyes. He raised his eyebrow in a silent question and felt pride when she imperceptibly nodded her consent to continue.

Running the blade down her torso towards the shredded fabric at her groin, he used it to peel the remnants back, revealing her smooth, bare pubis. His breathing deepened with overwhelming desire as he observed her pale white, beautiful mound and her secret pink slit nestled between her velvet folds. She glistened with lust.

An involuntary gasp escaped her lips as she felt the, now warm, metal flattened against her pussy. Unable to control it, she felt herself starting to tremble. The heat, the throbbing, the wetness between her legs increasing to the point of being almost unbearable.

A small cry from her lips and he growled, “No. You will not come until I give you the command. For that little one, you will pay.”

Clenching the knife handle between his teeth, he roughly tore the sodden scraps from between her legs, rolled them up and prized open her jaws, stuffing her thong deep into her mouth, making her gag. Her eyes momentarily widened in panic and she buckled against her restraints. The metal of the cuffs ripped into her wrists, causing her to subdue her struggles and focus on breathing through her nose.

“Suck, little one. Drink in all your juices and remember, no noise. No orgasm until I say so.”

She nodded, her jaw distended around the gag in her mouth. She could taste the residual laundry detergent and softener mingled with her own flavour and felt the unpleasant dryness of fabric against teeth.

“I think you need some time to reflect on what an impertinent brat you’ve been.”

Her eyes followed him as he walked over to the table and puts the knife down. He turned and came back to the end of the bed, his hands gripping each bedpost and he simply watched her, contemplating her. Drinking in her exposed state.

Taking his phone from his back pocket, he angled the viewfinder between her legs and started taking photos.

Close-ups, long shots of her entire exposed body, close-ups of her face, her eyes filled with tears, mascara running down the sides of her face into her hairline.

“We need a reminder for you of exactly what happens to little girls that don’t listen.”

She nodded vigorously from the bed, her eyes pleading with him for forgiveness. He looked down between her legs again and saw hot wet she had become, her juices dripping down onto the sheet from her lips.

“You love being photographed you dirty little slut. Don’t you? You love showing off your juicy wet cunt, don’t you?”

Arching her back as much as her restraints allowed, she squirmed with desire and need and nodded again, trying everything she could to beg him for release.

Pulling the soggy rags from her mouth, he leaned in close to her, nose-to-nose and repeated, “Don’t you?”

“Yes Sir, yes I do.”

“Dirty little bitch.” His hand struck her across the cheek, leaving a red flush, which made him harder than ever.

Positioning himself at the head of the bed, he undid his flies and stroked his hard, throbbing erection. He slapped her forehead with it lightly and she obediently arched her neck to allow her tongue to run over his testicles and suck them gently. Placing his hands under her shoulders, he roughly hoisted her up further on the bed, leaving her head slightly dangling over the edge, the slight slack he had left at her ankle shackles now straining and stretching her legs uncomfortably.

Lowering himself on to her, he forced his entire sac into her mouth, stretching her lips wide. Her tongue worked on them as he twisted his fingers through her hair.

Pushing her head away and releasing himself, he bent forward slightly and she began to hungrily lick and suck on him, working up and down his shaft, along his ridge, applying firm pressure, before taking his velvety tip inside her lips and running her wet tongue around it, tasting the clear liquid beading there.

Grabbing her breasts, squeezing them and twisting her nipples painfully, he rammed his cock into her mouth, forcing her to deep-throat him. Gagging, tears streaming down her face, she sucked and squeezed him with her mouth and throat muscles, her eyes always locked on his, as he demanded.

Pinching and slapping her swollen nipples, he thrusted himself into her, fucking her mouth with unreserved brutality. Feeling the exquisite tightening in his balls, he growled the order, “Now! Come now!” and bucked violently as he erupted inside her throat, just as she spasmed involuntarily against her restraints, pulling against them and chafing her delicate skin.

Looking down at her as she licked and swallowed every last drop, he released her wrists from the cuffs before moving down to repeat the action at her ankles.

He ran a soft cloth under the hot water at the sink in the corner, he wrung it out and, climbing onto the bed, he tenderly cleaned up her scraped and bloody skin where the metal had dug into her.

Her eyes glazed, limbs ragdoll loose, she flopped her head against his chest as he cradled her in his arms and stroked her face.

“Good girl,” he soothed, his voice filled with love and pride.

a special shout out to my technical advisor! who wishes to remain nameless… you rock!

Copyright, 2015, illicitthoughts.wordpress.com

All rights reserved.