Kink seems to be slowly making its way out of the shadows these days and a surprising number of people are beginning their exploration of non-conventional sex. The funny thing is, the exploration does not appear to be limited to the vanilla people venturing into brand new flavors. Some of the exploration is from those who are immersed in kink and have been for many, many years. Some of those people have playrooms, and have had submissives under them for years.

Some of those Dominants sometimes like to flip to see the other side of the coin.

A surprising number of them as of late have been showing up on my doorstep.

I’m a Dominant who has been exploring his kink off-and-on for a few years now. I’ve read, submitted to a few Doms to research a bit of what those in my care get to think and feel, and toured dungeons and play-spaces. There’s the artistic side of me that sees the beauty in light and dark, the display and surrender of the human form, and the body’s reactions to pleasure and pain. There’s a fine balance.  Walking between the two in an exploration can be a learning experience for those who submit, as well as for those who Dominate. There’s the analytical part of me that sees the design and lack of it, the clutter, the muddy messages given by rooms with too much stuff on display and too many messages communicated.

I’ve designed and built my own playspace. Its a work in progress and the analyst and designer in me will constantly be tearing things out of the space, redesigning them, rebuilding new things, and mercilessly editing.

The funny thing about play-spaces, as with building baseball diamonds in the middle of a cornfield is – if you build them, people will come. And they have.

For some reason unknown to me, as I said before, of those who have come to visit, there’s a few who have their own spaces. They have submissive young men bent to their will, and on a path of exploration. They’ve watched young men in their slings and their bindings. Men kneeling at their feet. Men bent into footrests for rough boots to be drawn across tender backs. Subs polishing their Dom’s boots while pre-cum stains the tightly packed baskets of their jeans.

Sometimes those men, as they are watching the trials and tribulations of their boys, would like to know – why did that surprising loud smack of my hand across his ass push the sub over the edge and make him shoot all over himself in shame and pleasure? Why did the struggle against the manacles bring a sexual flush to the sub’s cheeks?  What about the feel of his Master’s boots against his lips caused precum to steadily stream from the head of his twitching dick?

Sometimes those Dominants decide to flip over to the other side of the coin and find out.

…and sometimes they are more than a little shocked at what they find out.

…and sometimes they come back for more.

Maybe they show up because they know with me, I’m somewhat compassionate. Its all about that fine line. I’m not looking to leave visible marks. I am looking to leave deep new fault lines in what used to appear to be solid mental ground – and the realization to some Dominant men out there of the seductive attraction to letting go of control, to surrendering to the exploration of sensation and passion, and to the erotic edge of finding pleasure that is so intense, it would land an immeasurably small distance away from what they used to think of as pain.