It’s a subject that has come up a few places recently, and I want to talk about it today for a while.
Safety isn’t sexy, and it’s not something that a lot of writers in the genre spend a lot of time on. Some indeed push the line of consent very hard, something I try and avoid a lot of the time. In most of my stories the protagonists are involved in purely consensual acts; while many women have rape fantasies it’s one aspect I do not indulge in my own stories. A fantasy is one thing, but I like my stories to be realistic and in real life rape is horrific.
Anyway, back to the subject of safety.
When on-line I’m asked quite frequently to help people find a partner who can help them indulge their fantasies, and it’s more often than not the submissively-inclined who ask. My advice is always to refer them to a number of social networking and dating sites that focus on that kind of kink they are interested in. So how do you stay safe with someone you do not know when basically what you have in mind is to be tied up and intimately played with, at the end of the day? After all, this is the idea in a lot of BDSM, it’s what a lot of subs crave. Similarly, it looks like an abuser’s dream because it’s like leaving a note saying “Meet me by the old well at midnight for fun & games, and don’t forget to tie yourself to a heavy anchor first, hope you cannot swim!” and knowing someone will do just that. Plus I think everyone has heard of the Craig’s List Killer…
Well there ARE things you can do to stay safe, even if you are meeting a total stranger potentially for something involving ropes, chains, whips, and/or sex.
When you meet someone for the first time, the following are important to do in order to take care you don’t end up a victim. A lot of them make sure that you are safe by deterrence – that is, you are not creating a situation where a genuine predator couldn’t do anything to you, but where if they do there is a good chance they will get caught, and so the genuine predator will try and avoid these situations. A genuine dom(me) will know and understand your need for caution, and will respect it. If there’s no respect for these limits, you are not dealing with the real deal and will not get what you are looking for in any event.
1) Make sure someone knows where you are going and who you are meeting. Never, ever meet someone who wants you to tell no-one, or never mention their name.
2) Always hold a first meeting in a public place, where there are other people around. That way there will be witnesses to your meeting, and if you don’t gel with the person you are meeting it’s easier to just say thank you for the meeting, but it’s not for you and leave without there being a scene.
3) Make sure someone knows when you are expected home. If you are not back by then and they cannot raise you, they can raise the alarm. You could also set up text messages with someone over an extended period if you are going to be gone a long time, or even have them GPS-track your phone.
OK, you met in a public place, plenty of people saw you, your friends know when you are expected home and you have really got along with this person like a house on fire, and you want to get to their place and get the handcuffs and riding crop out, what then? How can you be sure this won’t end up badly?
1) Discuss your limits and expectations before hand. There is a phrase, “topping from the bottom” which is actually quite true a lot of the time: what goes on is determined by what the “bottom” has as their limits and fantasies. To accomplish this you need to talk before hand about what is to happen. If you meet someone who declares that subs do not dictate what happens, time to walk.
2) Establish safe words and signals. Safe words are a must, even between trusting life-partners as well as strangers. In addition, as gags can get involved in bondage-play, having signs you can give to say “I don’t like where this is going” or “I want to stop now” is likewise essential. Make sure these are understood in advance, and that the other person is fully in agreement. Again, anyone rejecting the notion is likely a fake insofar as you will not get what you were looking for.
Ultimately, you will not know if the person is trustworthy until you place your trust in them, and you won’t know that they will respect your safe word until you say it. However, you can screen out the obviously untrustworthy and give yourself the best chance of finding someone who can fulfil your needs if you follow some basic good advice like that above. One thing I will mention, it’s important to remember that this does not apply just to the first meeting, but to many. Anyone can pretend for a day, after all.
Once you have that trust built up, though, you can have an amazing relationship that can fulfil your every fantasy – so it’s worth kissing a few frogs to find a prince, as they say.
Well, this is one of my monologues, so of course I will add a teaser and a plug to a relevant story of mine at the end! In this case, the first story I ever wrote, Slave Girl: The Interview, has one such meeting as I describe above. The protagonist, Lydia, has had a few bad experiences, so she knows to be careful…
I pull my Toyota into the pub’s car park on what turns out to be a warm summer day and get out with my knees trembling. I’m sure I look to the outside world like an office-girl going to a lunch meeting. Little do they know. I hurry to the pub’s entrance a few minutes early for our meeting, my stomach full of butterflies.
It’s a pleasant place, not a modern venue but a cozy old-world pub with a stone-flagged floor and exposed beams. I find it quiet, shady, and cool as I step inside and make my way to the bar.
I order a diet coke and a shiraz and barely set them down at a corner table when I hear an engine outside. A few moments later, she glides into the bar. I know it’s her. My body, pumping with adrenaline and tingling with arousal, recognizes her from the way she carries herself, the way she moves.
Like me, Mistress Trudy is dressed for business: a dark skirt suit and a briefcase, as well as her handbag. She is taller than I am, and in higher heels to boot. A slim figure, she has an impressive bust and a long mane of glorious red hair that tumbles nearly to her waist. She walks into the pub with the presence of a model working a catwalk, with utmost confidence. Her dark eyes fix on me, and I rise to greet her, trembling worse now. I’m lusting for her already, but also I’m a little afraid of what might happen if I’m at the mercy of such a confident, self-possessed woman.
“Miss Weston?” I start to offer my hand.
“Lydia, so lovely to meet you.” She kisses my cheek in a familiar way, and I find myself flushing. “Is this mine?” she asks, seeming a little surprised to see the glass of wine.
“Of course,” I assure her. She gracefully settles into her seat and gestures to me to do the same. “It’s lovely to meet you at last,” I add shyly, my heart racing.
“Well of course it is,” she agrees with a smile that leaves me utterly disarmed, mesmerized.
We make small talk about my journey, the places I’ve travelled, what I studied at university. After a second round of drinks, I relax a great deal. We sit close, almost touching, intimate without obvious sexual overtures, although my twitching pussy indicates clearly that I am very attracted to her. Every few moments, I find myself imagining what it would be like to kiss her — to be permitted to kiss her — and to caress those beautiful breasts, to kneel between her legs and lick her sweet pussy.
“Tell me, dear,” she says, her hand resting on my knee, concealed from the rest of the clientele by the table, “what did you choose to wear under than skirt?”
A little thrill goes through me. She told me to wear my corset, as well as the rest of the ensemble I’m wearing, but she hadn’t specified panties. I swallow hard. This is a test, I think to myself.
“Well, Mistress, you didn’t specify panties so … I’m not wearing any,” I reply softly and breathlessly. I can feel my pussy grow moist and my nipples erect, so hard they are visible. All of a sudden, the chemistry between us has become very sexual.
“Truly?” Her smile widens, and my heart skips a beat. She likes what I did! Her hand slides up to the top of my stockings, under the hem of my skirt. Our eyes lock; I cannot look away.
“Yes, Miss,” I confirm. “I thought that if you intended me to wear panties you would have said so.”
“Oh, I would have, and I like that you understood.” Her hand slips higher, and her long-nailed fingers probe the soft curls around my sex. “You have lovely silky hair, my dear.” She strokes my ponytail with her other hand, and to any onlooker she is merely commenting on the hair on my head when she says, “Very nice hair for such a dirty slut, walking in here with no panties on.”
I gasp at her casual delivery. I’m not used to using such language outside the bedroom. Maybe it’s also the way she is teasing me under the table, as my wetness flows and my nipples harden.
“Th-thank you, Miss,” I reply, concentrating on sitting still as she plays with my pussy. “Yours is very beautiful, too,” I add with genuine admiration.
“Thank you, my dear, although I do shave. I insist on it with my slaves, as well,” she purrs to me. I catch the hint — she will want me to shave myself, or she will shave me. That’s something I have not done before.
Now her fingertips gently strum my clit. “And you moisturize,” she adds as her fingers dip into my slickness. “What a nice wet cunt.”
“Y-yes,” I pant softly. Her language is only turning me on more! “A girl should always moisturize.” I realize that her nipples are also erect; she is turned on by teasing me.
“How good is your self-control?” she asks me, her fingers busily stoking, exploring, homing in on the places that bring me the most pleasure, but not going further. I’ve never been teased like this before, at least not in public. Edging is common in BDSM, where the sub is pleasured but kept from climaxing. It takes great self-control on the part of the dominant, but renders the sub very uninhibited and pliable. I have been edged before, but not to a great degree.
“P-pretty good,” I stammer. Her fingers continue to stroke and explore, shielded by the table.
“Good. You may warn me if you feel you cannot maintain control,” she tells me in a calm, no-nonsense fashion. “Needless to say, you are required to have permission to orgasm in my presence today.” Her calm strength—not just physical strength, but the confidence of her assertions—makes me feel hemmed in, constrained and restricted. It’s like being tied up with just words.
“Yes, Mistress,” I reply meekly, eyes slightly wide as she continues her subtle teasing.
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