DungeonPlace.com

Many of us label ourself and to some extent it’s unavoidable. We call ourself parent, friend, lover, son, employee, master, submissive, etc. However, many of us have several labels that can seem at odds with each other, especially within the kink lifestyle.

I try to avoid some of the labels by calling myself a creative kinkster and I can see how, and why,  some identify as a Switch. In my mind that allows an expression of their interests. It’s one way to change the way others perceive you, both at that given, specific time and in general (eg, ‘I maybe beating on this person but I also like to be dominated’; or ‘I’m getting off on being bound and tormented right now, but I like to tie as much as be tied’).

People who know you soon recognize that your role changes depending on your current burning need or desire, and perhaps how you interact with a specific person, or type of personality. There’s nothing wrong with it. It doesn’t mean you can’t make a decision, nor that you’re still searching for your ‘true role’.

I find it to be an exploration, an acknowledgment of the various sensations, situations and energy flows within the different aspects of our personal dynamics. Embrace it, enjoy it, and be proud.

GamerUK

creative kinkster (who just happens to also be a sadist)

Gamer's Tools

It has been a little over a year that I began my journey into the realm of BDSM. I have been noticing lately some interesting conversations on various message boards that have me reflecting upon my past and current experiences. One question in particular struck a chord for me: “Am I really a pain slut?” I can certainly empathize with the confusion that was expressed in that particular post. I remember clearly when I was first confronted with what was to my mind an unacceptable part of my nature. Tutivillus had just administered my first real beating which I admitted at the time I enjoyed immensely. It confused me greatly how good it felt to be hurt. When we first negotiated the scene, I was intrigued by the bondage and only mildly curious about the pain. It took me by surprise how turned on I was to his hand and paddle striking my bared bottom. With each ‘whack’ I became more in tune to not only Tutivillus but to my own body, my own mind and my own heart. It took me several days to come to peace with the possibility that I was a lover of pain. I was as yet unconvinced that it was indeed a reality.

During these past twelve months, I continued exploring the darker side of myself. I have always known I adored bondage and rope, but learning about pain took a great deal of courage as well as a level of self-acceptance. Not one to shrink from self-discovery I began experimenting with different types of pain and sensation play. I discovered that I enjoyed the ‘whack’ of a paddle very much, but the sting of a single tail, left me a whimpering coward. I learned that I adore the bite of clothes pins and nipple clamps and even more so to have them ripped off me. As I began to reconcile the societal conditioning that “pain = bad”, I gave my self permission to enjoy all of the sensations that my Dom offered me. As I embraced, the pain I discovered the new heights that I could be taken to sexually. I look forward to the feel of my Dom’s hand whether he gives me pleasure or pain. I crave the touch of his paddle, the feel of his clamps on my breasts, his teeth biting, the ropes burning my wrists. The pain contrasts and heightens the pleasure he gives. The administering of pain has forged a bond of trust with my Dom, that I didn’t realize could exist between two people. Now a year later, I am no longer conflicted but fully accept who and what I am. I am a pain slut and I revel in the knowledge.