Kink in exile

Notes from a kinky nomad

Starting from the beginning

“Breathe. Don’t forget to breathe.” I lean in putting my weight on his back, wrapping my hands around his wrists, and bite into his shoulder. I take my time, letting him get used to the pressure of my teeth on his skin, waiting for his breathing to steady, then bite down harder. I hear him gasp, and exaggerate my exhale willing him to keep pace with my breath.

I recently had the pleasure of playing with someone who is fairly new to kink. Yum. What, you wanted more nuance than “yum?” Playing with someone new is always a trip, but playing with someone who is new to the whole idea of kink goes beyond pickup play. My inner sadist definitely gets off on hurting someone who is still surprised by it. I do get off on vulnerability after all. There is, of course, something very powerful in the trust a bottom places in me regardless of the bottom’s experience level, but there is something different about getting to introduce someone to my favorite toys for the fist time.

There is also more for me to think about. I’m not sure how hard I can push before he runs for the hills, or where his landmines are. Not sure if I’m explaining too much or not enough. I check in constantly, and then worry that I’m pulling him out of a perfectly good headspace by asking if he’s ok. I’m amazed by how much pain he can take, but tread lightly anyway.  Definitely a balance.

Tell me about your first scene…

Written by kinkinexile

August 18, 2008 at 10:49 pm

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