SM Journal

A reflection on two kinds of whippings, one born of S-M love and trust, the other focused on sensation.

Singapore Cane. I am the orchestra director, and you are the violin.

I bet empathy can burn hundreds of calories, just like playing chess. Empathy can be depleted. One could do SM like a machine, with prearranged gestures to preserve their energies and disappear behind repetition. I don't do that. One should not approach this line of work without a great deal of empathy. Listening to every breath and word before, during, and after a session. But it can take its toll. A decade ago, a sadist friend of mine stressed that I am a magnet for sadomas

Some people carry their identity like a weight. Too many thoughts, too many roles to play in life, too much noise in the head. "Caring dehumanization" means giving them permission to drop all of it.

He didn’t realize it yet, but what was waiting for him was a proper British caning.

There’s power in the mummification ritual: wrapping my submissive in bandages—especially around the face—transforming them into a gentle cocoon. Bandages are soft; they let the skin breathe, allow some freedom of movement, and heighten sensation. Perfect for teasing, of course. I like to use coluorful ones. Sometimes I crave something more extreme. The unforgiving, and often sweaty: Japanese-style encasement. Multiple layers of various materials, each one with its own purpose

Mistress Chiaki's shibari is smooth, never rushed, yet she is incredibly accurate and fast. I think that's because before surrender, there must be stillness. Before fantasy, quiet. And that is where domination begins. The restless ones, the ADHD kinky people of London, have an unstopable need to move, to do, to reach, to think. Restraint alone isn't enough; they need to be contained. Pacing, distance, compression, scent, lights, touch, the constant observation of every subtle

Despite the cliché, nobody really wants true, uncaring darkness. The cold authority, the cruel scenarios, those are just the theatre of BDSM

I raise the whip, watching their body tense, not with fear, but with readiness. The lash falls, and they absorb it, exhale through it, move

Men in ropes... This one was a truly remarkable subjects for sculpting. There is exquisite effort in shaping the ropes to complement the masculine form, with each line meticulously placed to trace the angles of his body. The ropes deliberately follow the natural hardness of his chest, the sharpness of his shoulders, and the deep curve of his waist, accentuating the firm muscles beneath. Every strand, pulled taut, sculpts the body emphasizing the raw beauty of muscle and bone

I could finally embody Mr. Ishioka, a character who fascinated me with his unique blend of degrading sadism and kind, empowering words.