Tag Archives: BDSM

“Discipline And Punishment” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story that includes sex robots, a very naughty woman, and a mild dose of BDSM. I could offer some context as to what inspired this, but I have a feeling it will only distract people from taking in the true breadth of this very sexy story. Enjoy!

Amber Quinn was a bad girl. That was an inescapable fact.

She wasn’t bad in the sense that she’d snuck out at night as a teenager, smoked pot regularly, or pocketed an extra piece of candy from her grandmother’s pantry. She was bad in the most basic sense of the word.

Amber was selfish, egotistical, narcissistic, callous, and downright mean at times. She had little respect for rules, manners, and propriety. She was excessively vain, spending at least an hour every morning on her makeup. She was also exceedingly immodest, wearing only the trashiest outfits that showed off her sexy body, which was more attributed to her mother being a former model than her dedication to good physical health. One of her former teachers once told her that she had the beauty of an angel and the conscious of a demon.

That teacher might have only said that because Amber slept with her son to steal answers for an upcoming test, but that didn’t make it any less true. Being so self-absorbed and self-centered, Amber rarely passed up an opportunity to exploit her beauty and the desires of others to sleep with her.

She’d slept with a manager at a high-end clothing store to get discounts on dresses.

She gave a blowjob to a delivery boy so she could get free meals for a week.

She’d gotten a wealthy widower to fall in love with her, only to break his heart when she found out he’d lost all his money in a stock market scheme.

For most of her life, Amber was on path of selfish indulgence and utter self-destruction. She burned every bridge, alienated every friend, and squandered every opportunity to do something meaningful with her life. That ended abruptly three years ago.

It started when she attempted to blackmail a young, but wealthy investment banker by claiming he’d sexually assaulted her. She came close to getting away with it. She only got caught because she mistakenly shared her plan with her drug-dealing ex-boyfriend via text message, who ended up sharing the text messages with the cops.

“You finally paid a price for your selfishness. It should’ve come sooner. And it should’ve been much higher,” Amber often told herself.

In hindsight, it might have been the best thing that could’ve happened to her. When she got arrested, the prosecuting attorney – a woman named Lorena Jameson – decided to dig deeper into her sordid history. She compiled a comprehensive list of actions that put the breadth of her deviance into perspective. When the judge on her case saw that list, he looked at her with utter disgust.

He could’ve sent her to jail for years. She would’ve deserved it, too. However, Lorena proposed a different kind of punishment. She believed that jail would only harden her and foster more deviance. For Amber Quinn to become a respectable woman again, she needed a lesson in discipline. That was where Mike Blackwhip came in.

Who he was, what he was, and how he went about teaching her the value of discipline helped transform her from a self-absorbed asshole to a respectable, law-abiding citizen. Instead of extorting men for money, she had a good job as a paralegal at a law firm. She went from living with boyfriends/sugar daddies to having her own apartment.

However, in order for Mr. Blackwhip to carry out his court-approved role, her residence required certain accommodations. They were apparent every time Amber returned from work.

“Mr. Blackwhip, sir, I’m home,” Amber announced upon entering her apartment.

“Welcome home, Amber,” replied a voice through a small speaker in the foyer. “You’re two minutes and thirteen seconds late. Do you have a valid reason for this?”

“No, Mr. Blackwhip. I don’t. I simply lost track of time.”

“That’s an excuse. Not a reason. You know what that entails.”

“Indeed, I do.”

His voice was so strict and stern, even through a speaker. Amber rarely heard that tone from men and not just because her father had been a burned-out stoner who didn’t care for discipline. Whereas men were often intimated by her beauty and attitude, there was no intimidating Mr. Blackwhip.

With that in mind, Amber set aside her coat and purse. She could already feel Mr. Blackwhip’s gaze on her through the camera atop the monitor. She stood in front of it in the modest, professional attire that was expected for her work at a law firm. It was a far cry from the tube-tops and mini-skirts she once wore in public. It affirmed that she had come to respect Mr. Blackwhip’s rules, but that was only part of the unorthodox method that had tamed her trashy ways.

“Tardiness without excuses is not the mark of a law-biding woman. It seems I must incorporate punishment into your typical discipline,” Mr. Blackwhip said through the speaker. “Do you intend to appeal this?”

No, Mr. Blackwhip. I don’t,” Amber said, holding her head low in a gesture of humility.

“Then, proceed to the discipline room. Your weekly penance awaits you, Amber Quinn.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Blackwhip.”

She spoke in such a polite, formal tone. Her younger self never would’ve recognized it. There was no attitude, ego, or coyness. The same Amber Quinn who once spat on her eight-grade math teacher for chewing gum during class now spoke with respect, humility, and obedience. It was still so jarring, but she’d come to appreciate it. Mike Blackwhip was the primary reason for that.

Like a soldier obeying a direct order, she made her way to the discipline room. That was just what Mr. Blackwhip called the second bedroom of her two-bedroom apartment. As part of the court order that kept her out of prison, she was required to stay in a two-bedroom apartment in which one of the room was converted into a unique area in which she could receive what the judge in her case called “specialized penance.”

Such a vague legal term didn’t do justice to its impact on her. There was no doubt about it. Amber never would’ve gotten anything like it in prison. She never would’ve become who she was now without it. When it began, she’d been both skeptical and reluctant. Now, every time she entered the discipline room, she did so with a sense of peace and humility.

“I’m here, Mr. Blackwhip,” Amber said upon walking through the door. “Please, tell me what to do next.”

“Your manners are improving. That’s promising,” replied a familiar figure sitting in the shadows, “but you still have a long way to go.”

As that harsh reminder lingered in her mind, the imposing figure rose up and turned the lights on. In doing so, Mike Blackwhip revealed himself to her. No matter how many times she saw him, she felt anxious, excited, and determined all at the same time.

What made him so imposing, however, had little to do with his stature, his voice, or the significant authority that he wielded, courtesy of a court order. Unlike any other man Amber had dealt with before, Mike Blackwhip wasn’t a normal man, prone to the same vulnerabilities as other man. He was a robot. Specifically, he was a male sex robot whose design, programming, and operations were uniquely calibrated for deviant women like her.

When he approached her, Amber couldn’t help but marvel at his form. He was tall, standing at over six-and-a-half feet in height. He had muscles that rivaled most amateur bodybuilders. From his arms to his legs to his chest, he radiated masculine power from every pore. That power extended to a large, well-shaped penis that hung between his legs. Despite having been with her share of well-endowed men, the sight Mike Blackwhip’s manhood still made her blush.

The closer he got, the more she trembled under his domineering presence. He might have been a robot, but he still had the presence of a man. His skin was very lifelike, but probably wouldn’t have fooled most people if he walked down a busy street.

However, that helped reinforce an important point, with respect to her court-ordered discipline. Mike Blackwhip wasn’t the kind of man she could easily manipulate. No amount of sex appeal or sensuality could distract him from his role. Being a robot in the body of a powerful man, he had a singular purpose and it centered around her.

“Close the door, lock it, and take off your clothes,” Mike said, his voice echoing with focused masculinity.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Blackwhip,” Amber said obediently.

She did exactly as she was told, without attitude or complaint. She showed none of her former sass as she closed the door, leaving her alone in a room with a hulking sex robot and blacked out windows. It used to scare her. It still did on some level. However, as she came to appreciate her penance, it began to excite her.

It showed as she removed her casual business attire under Mike’s watchful eye. In the past, stripping naked was just another tool in her effort to selfishly indulge. Given her natural beauty and her willingness to use it, she could get almost any man to do her bidding. None of that worked on Mike Blackwhip. Even as she slipped off her bra and panties, he was not the least bit swayed by her fully nude form.

“Get on your knees,” Mike said firmly.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Blackwhip.”

Already, Amber had exercised more submission and obedience than she had for most of her adult life. She was usually the one who told men what to do. She was usually the one in charge when clothes came off. Getting on her knees, usually to give a blowjob, was just another part of another selfish agenda.

That dynamic, which once fueled her narcissism, had been completely reversed.

“You’re getting better,” Mike told her. “You’re learning to respect authority, obey orders, and appreciate formality. That constitutes progress.”

“Thank you, Mr. Blackwhip,” Amber said with a respectful nod.

“But progress alone is not the goal,” the robot figure told her. “Reformation and vindication, especially for one such as you, requires extensive effort. At times, those efforts must be belabored.”

Mike Blackwhip took a step closer. He now towered over her like a titan. She looked up at him, a powerful robot surrounded by masculine flesh, in the same way a small animal looked up at a predator. There was no equality in this situation. He had the authority, literally and legally.

“Get on all fours,” he ordered.

“Yes, Mr. Blackwhip,” she said before doing exactly as he ordered.

“Now, follow me to your punishment rack. Crawl on the dirty floor like a disobedient pet,” he told her.

“Yes, Mr. Blackwhip.”

Again, she complied. With submissive meekness, she crawled alongside the imposing figure until they arrived at the punishment rack, as he called it.

It wasn’t a rack as much as it was a make-shift bed, which had been modified with various bondage accessories. It included shackles on the headboard, restraints that hung from the ceiling, and ropes that connected to the sides. Right next to the setup stood two small dressers, each packed with various bondage tools.

She knew what they were and how they were used, but hadn’t been on the receiving end until recently. They used to fill her with dread. Now, Amber got aroused, thinking about how they would be used on her. Mike Blackwhip didn’t just know how to use them. His programming made him the ultimate expert.

“Get up!” he said, barking the order like a drill sergeant.

She did so without saying a word. Before she could fully return to her feet, he gave another order.

“Bend over,” he said. “Put your arms behind your back.”

“Yes, Mr. Blackwhip,” said Amber, her voice becoming more submissive.

As soon as she complied, Mike grabbed her wrists and held them together. Then, he retrieved a pair of handcuffs from the nearby dresser and bound her with them. The sound of the ominous clicking noise reminded her of that fateful day when she got arrested. Mike Blackwhip often made it a point to remind her of that moment, but there was a reason for that.

“No matter how much progress you make, you should never forget what a deviant bitch you once were,” said Mike. “You escaped punishment for so long. It’s going to take a lot of penance to balance the scales of justice.”

Upon saying those words, he gave her butt a firm slap. The sound of a loud “thwack!” filled the room. Amber winced at the sting, but it did more than inflict pain.

Her heart raced faster.

Her mind raced as well.

Memories of her decadent past clashed with her emerging present. It created within her a potent feeling that even a former deviant could appreciate.

“You feel that?” Mike Blackwhip said as he smacked her ass again. “That is real, tangible punishment…the kind you avoided for years.”

Amber winced again as another sharp sting followed. He proceeded to spank her several more times, using increasing force with each strike. He wasn’t too hard, but he wasn’t gentle either. Being an advanced sex robot, Mike delivered just the right amount of force every time.

Soon, her butt was tender and sore. Amber kept gasping anxiously, her body and mind in a strange state of discomfort and arousal. Then, Mike retrieved a black, leather studded whip from the dresser and rubbed the tip over her tender skin. Under his imposing presence, all she could do was brace herself.

“Now, you cannot avoid punishment! Not anymore!” Mike loudly proclaimed.

He struck her butt with the whip, giving a tangible feeling to such harsh words. Amber groaned at the resulting sting, which was more intense than before. Even so, she endured it. She didn’t have a choice. Even if she did, there was no escaping the truth.

Again and again, he struck her butt with the whip. Hard leather struck vulnerable skin. Amber writhed and groaned, but didn’t dare complain. She just bit her lip and trembled at each strike, feeling that unique rush that came with receiving such punishment from Mike Blackwhip. She had spent her whole life avoiding consequences to her many misdeeds. Facing them like this, taking them in such a raw and overt way, gave her a feeling that was uniquely liberating.

“You deserve this! Say it!” Mike said in between strikes.

“I…I deserve this,” she said meekly.

“Louder! Say it louder!”

“I deserve this! I deserve this punishment!”

Saying it out loud only intensified the feeling. It was so cathartic, proclaiming out loud that she deserved to be punished and willingly accepted it. After everything she’d done, Amber didn’t just want that feeling. She needed it.

Mike Blackwhip proceeded to whip her ass several dozen times, imparting punishment and vindication with every strike. It further added to her arousal. Some of that arousal manifested between her legs. She could already feel her inner thighs becoming very moist. What had once been a manifestation of her selfish indulgence was now a part of her overdue punishment.

Her arousal didn’t go unnoticed. Being a sex robot, Mike had sensors that allowed him to detect an aroused woman, which already put him above the vast majority of the men she’d ever been with. Unlike those men, however, he did not get distracted by the prospect of a horny woman.

“I sense that you’re accepting and embracing your punishment,” Mike said. “That also constitutes progress. As such, the nature of your penance must evolve.”

He gave her butt one last swat. It was extra hard, leaving a sting that lingered.

As Amber processed that feeling, the imposing figure undid her handcuffs, grabbed her by the shoulder, and turned her around. Once again, she faced him and his domineering authority. It was the first authority she’d come to respect and not just because of a court order.

“Get on the bed, lie on your back, and hold your arms out,” Mike Blackwhip ordered.

“Yes, Mr. Blackwhip,” she said, her arousal showing in her voice.

She complied with greater urgency, crawling up on the bed and lying down on her back. She didn’t care that her butt still stung and her inner thighs were hot with arousal. This powerful authority figure gave her an order. Having gained a unique respect for authority, abiding by that authority only intensified that arousal.

“Following the rules and those who enforce them aren’t always appealing,” he said as he walked around to the other side of the bed. “Most don’t need to learn that lesson the hard. Some insist on making it even harder. You, Amber Quinn, learned it many times and still avoided it. For you to follow the basic rules of society, enforces of those rules must get elaborate.”

He’d given that speech before. Amber heard it every time she endured her this elaborate form of penance. It was meant to reinforce just how much a deviant she had been and how challenging it was to change her perspective.

Mike Blackwhip let those words echo in her mind as he proceeded with the next phase of her penance. He started by taking each wrist and bounding it with a special restraint that was attached to the side of the bed. Her arms now immobile, he retrieved a couple of nipple rings from the drawer and fastened them to her nipples, which created a fresh source of discomfort.

“Ungh!” Amber groaned.

“Silence!” he barked. “You’ve no one to blame for this recourse but yourself.”

Before she could protest any further, Mike grabbed a ball gag from the table, shoved it into her mouth, and locked it. Now, she was both restrained and silenced. It was a position that had been alien to her until recently. It was also a position that made use of the discipline room’s most effective tool.

On the ceiling above the punishment rack was a mirror. In it, she saw her naked body on the rack, completely at the mercy of a powerful figure armed with both robot strength and legal power. It allowed her to see herself in this bound, submissive form. She could watch herself get dominated and disciplined in all the ways she once avoided. It created a powerful visual that she couldn’t avoid, nor did she want to.

“To appreciate discipline, you must also appreciate penance,” he said to her. “To appreciate penance, you must also have incentive…one that can be both painful and pleasurable.”

Her arousal was so great that Amber could barely keep her legs still. She watched with growing anticipation, her breath muffled by the ball gag. Mike Blackwhip got up on the bed and pushed her legs apart, casting a shadow over her that made her feel like an insect. In doing so, his dick went from completely flaccid to completely erect in just a few seconds.

It was another distinct tool that allowed Mike to exercise his authority. Being a sex robot, he was not bound by the physical limitations of men. The court liaison who’d introduced her to Mike Blackwhip told her that his genitals had been designed and configured with control in mind. He could be as hard as he wanted for as long as he wanted. That meant she couldn’t depend her discipline ending prematurely.

Having exploited and belittled the frailties of male sexual function in the past, it was almost poetic. Hovering over her was a man who would never become tired, overwhelmed, or impotent. She could never dominate him, even at her most deviant. She could only ever be dominated by her. He knew that because that was how he was programmed.

Another part of that programming was, according to another court liaison, to derive his own unique pleasure from carrying out her penance.

“Look up at yourself,” Mike said as he held her legs apart. “Watch as I impose my discipline. Watch as you accept your punishment.”

Amber replied with a light muffle before turning her attention to the mirror on the ceiling. From there, she watched the domineering spectacle unfold.

Mike, keeping a firm grip on her legs, aligned his throbbing cock with the moist opening to her pussy. She watched in her reflection as he drove his hips forward and entered her, his hulking male flesh filling her inner depths. He was not careful or reluctant. This wasn’t her indulging in pleasures of the flesh. This was part of her penance. That didn’t make it feel any less intense.

“Mmff!” she moaned, the ball gag muting her gasps.

It was happening again. Bound, gagged, and naked, she was in a state of total submission. She – Amber Quinn, the unapologetic whore who once extorted pediatrician for pain pills to sell – was being dominated and fucked. As someone whose ego once required that she always be in control, both the imagery and the sensations had a profound impact.

The sights, sounds, and sensations converged in that moment. With his member now inside her, Mike began moving his hips. Like a well-oiled machine – which he was, to some extent – he pumped his manhood within her depths. As always, he penetrated deep. He left no nerve unstimulated. It was like his penis had been crafted specifically to fuck her, which was probably close to the truth.

The spectacle of his muscular, manly body humping her bound form unfolded in the mirror above her. The pain from the spankings and the nipple clamps mixed with the pleasure of sex. The lines between the two quickly blurred. From that blend of conflicting sensations, a unique feeling emerged.

This is your penance, Amber Quinn. This is how you repay your lofty debts,” Mike said in his booming voice. “Take this punishment! Take this discipline! Take it all!”

More muffled moans followed, but Amber never looked away from her submissive reflection. She had to see it play out. Like a living memory, it gave weight and substance to the experience.

Pain imparted punishment. Pleasure imparted affirmation. There was merit to following the rules, exercising discipline, and eschewing pure selfishness. Mike Blackwhip turned that profound concept into a special kind of penance. She felt it, watched it, and embraced it. Doing so didn’t just help atone for her many misdeeds. It helped make her a better person.

As the punishment and discipline played out, Mike intensified the pace of their sex. He was hard and fast with every thrust, fucking her with a fervor that few men could sustain. He took full advantage of being a sex robot, dominating her as much as he ravaged her. It kept that blend of pain and pleasure flowing, so much so that Amber couldn’t tell whether she was close to climaxing. She only realized it as she neared the final threshold.

“Mmmfff!” she moaned loudly as the feeling approach.

“Yes! That’s it, Amber Quinn!” Mike shouted. “Feel it! Remember it! Accept it!”

He slowed his thrusting, delivering one last round of targeted movements. They were intended specifically to make her climax, even as other parts of her body remained tender with pain. It was a difficult feat, even for a sex robot. Like he had many times before, Mike succeeded.

When she came, Amber bend her knees back, curled her toes, and watched herself writhe in the mirror. The intensity of the pleasure complement the lingering pain, as if to create a feeling of complete and utter balance. Even at her most deviant, through all the sex she had and the drugs she took, she’d never experienced such a feeling.

As her body trembled, Mike withdrew his cock from her, unlocked her wrists, and removed the ball gag. As she panted heavily from the orgasmic feeling, he cupped her chin with his powerful hand and looked her directly in the eye.

“Your penance is done for the day,” he told her, “but the process is ongoing. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t, Mr. Blackwhip,” she replied. “I promise.”

Amber smiled at the imposing figure and he smiled back. Even a sex robot understood the importance of what he’d just done with her. The sensations created a feeling and the feeling created an experience in which punishment became desirable and discipline became appealing. For a reformed deviant like her, Amber couldn’t imagine of a more effective penance.

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“Master’s Delight” A Sexy Short Story

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The following is a sexy short story I wrote about authority, domination, submission, and all the sexy connotations that go with it. Make no mistake. The sexy connotations are there. I’ve talked about them before. This is just a story inspired by them. Enjoy!

Authority was a tricky, but necessary component of life. Without authority, there could be no order. Without order, there could be no peace. That was the mantra that Erin Grant heard from her father since she was a child. Being an officer in the United States Marine Corp and an advocate of capable authority figures, he’d taught her and her three younger brothers the value of respecting authority.

However, as she grew into a beautiful young woman with a promising career in online marketing, Erin learned that most people didn’t appreciate authority. If anything, they went out of their way to fight it.

“Seriously, Brandy, you need to stand your ground on this. If Jay won’t set a deadline, you need to give him an ultimatum.”

“You have a short memory, Marla. My sister tried that with her now ex-fiancé last year. Weren’t you with her when she threw her suitcase out on the front lawn?”

“This is different! Jay is your co-worker, not your squeeze. You got to make clear that his authority ends where your duties begin.”

“Says the woman who’s been bossing around her boss for the past two years, which I’m sure shows up on every paycheck.”

That was just the latest in a contentious debate between Brandy Wyn and Marla Isaac, two women with whom she shared a carpool. Every day, there seemed to be some major conflict going on within their department at the company. Most of the time, it related to someone not respecting another’s authority or someone attempting to assert their own. Erin had heard it so often that she already knew how it would play out.

It started with a disagreement. It escalated into a conflict. From there, it became a heated argument about who was right and who had the power to make that decision. Ultimately, there was a compromise. However, nobody ever seemed to get what they want and if it failed, nobody dared take responsibility.

That was why Erin often stayed out of those debates. She knew her role and was content to maintain it while refining her skills in the process. Her appreciation and respect for authority ensured she remained quiet during many of those conflicts, often keeping to herself and listening to music on her phone.

“What do you think, Erin?” Brandy asked her. “You work with Jay in marketing. Should I draw the line before he can undercut me?”

“What do you mean before?” Marla scoffed. “He already has!”

Erin rolled her eyes, already regretting being dragged into the debate.

“I don’t think I can offer much, Brand,” she told her. “I work with Jay, but we don’t step on each other’s toes. If we disagree, we refer to our boss.”

“That can’t be your solution to everything,” Brandy said. “Randy is a smart guy, but I need to take point on this project. It’s how I’m going to get that promotion when Jessie retires!”

“You honestly think that’s going to tip the scales?” said Marla. “I get you want to be the boss for a change, but there’s a long list of people eying that spot and leading one project won’t put you on the inside track.”

“It sure as hell can’t hurt. If you want people to respect your voice, you got to put your foot down when you get a shot!”

The debate raged on. Erin tried not to listen. At one point, she heard Marla suggest that Brandy plant a half-empty bottle of whiskey in Jay’s desk in the hopes he’ll get drunk at the next staff meeting. It was a ridiculous idea, but one Brandy seemed to take seriously.

That was the problem with those who didn’t appreciate authority. In their efforts to oppose it, they often undermined it and themselves in the process. In the end, nobody won. Nobody trusted anybody to deliver in their duties. Erin felt like an anomaly with the way she respected authority. Then again, given just how much she respected it compared to everyone around her, she probably was.

She managed to shut out the rest of the debate until she arrived at the quiet suburban house she shared with her husband, Robert. After checking her watch, Erin saw that she was right on time for what she and her love had planned for the evening. She couldn’t get out of the van fast enough.

“Have a nice night, Erin,” said Patrick, the driver of the van.

“You too,” Erin said politely.

“And give some thought to how we can mind-fuck Jay tomorrow!” Marla added. “We need a plan.”

“I’ll…give it some though,” she said with a half-grin.

“Yeah right,” scoffed Brandy.

The two women looked like they were in for a restless and miserable evening. Erin tried not to pity them too much. It wasn’t her fault their approach to confronting authority was so strenuous. Not many shared her attitudes towards it and with every passing year, fewer and fewer people seemed to appreciate it.

“If only they knew,” Erin said under her breath as she entered the front door. “Getting what you want doesn’t mean fighting authority. In fact, you can get plenty when you embrace it.”

Smiling to herself as she closed the door behind her and set her stuff aside, she checked her watch to ensure she was still on schedule. Whereas her co-workers agonized over how to seize authority for themselves, she intended to take a different approach to fulfilling her goals.

True to her punctual nature, Erin took out her phone and sent a text message to her husband to let her know they were on track. Afterwards, she kicked off her shoes, walked over to the kitchen, and plugged her phone into its charger. She then got herself a quick drink of water, assuming she would need to be hydrated for the night’s activities. Before she finished the glass, though, her phone buzzed with a new message.

It was from her husband. It contained only a few words with simple instructions.

“I’m ready. Come on down.”

Already, Erin felt the excitement in her brewing. Her heart raced with anticipation. The prospect of an eventful evening to balance out another mundane day at the office had uncanny appeal, but pursuing it meant doing so required an entirely different approach to authority.

“Not everything needs to be taken,” Erin said as she placed her glass aside. “Some of the greatest rewards in life are given…if you’re willing to trust others to give them.”

Vast rewards awaited and Erin eagerly pursued them. Following her excitement, she made her way to the basement entrance in the foyer. Outside, it looked like just another door within a suburban house. However, few doors had a small camera hanging over it or a heavy electronic lock from the other side. The neighbors once joked they must have been very protective of their laundry. They were only partially right.

“I’m ready too,” she said to the camera. “Please, let me in.”

She heard nothing. The light on the camera just flickered and the door remained locked. At first, she thought her message hadn’t gotten through. Then, she remembered her mistake.

“I apologize. It’s been a long day,” Erin said. “Please, let me in…Master.”

The way she said that last word, lacing it with a mix of reverence and seduction, did the trick. The door unlocked. The light on the camera changed from red to green. The special activity she’d planned with her husband had begun.

“Thank you for your mercy, Master,” she said graciously. “I intend to make it up to you.”

Confident in her intentions, she opened the heavy door and descended the steps leading into the basement. There, she encountered a setup that she’d seen many times before, but it still got every part of her body hot with excitement…some more so than others.

Her master had really gone the extra mile. Once again, he gave their little S&M dungeon his special touch. As always, the windows were blacked out, the lamps were shaded with red veils, and an array of black candles were set up on special stands all around what had once been a typical cellar. In the center of the room, however, the real spectacle awaited her.

Her master had been working on it for weeks. It was a special bondage rack, one that required parts not easily found in a typical hardware store and expertise not typical of a middle-aged man who worked at a private security firm. It looked like a fancy massage table that had been modified with shackles, straps, and a few other familiar accessories that Erin knew very well. In addition to the rock, there was also a small table containing some special instruments that should facilitate the night’s activities.

If her co-workers had seen it, especially Brandy and Marla, they would’ve been aghast. If someone even joked about them using it, they would’ve been outraged. From their perspective, the idea of any woman subjecting herself to such denigration had to be damaged or worse. Erin could only laugh at how wrong they would’ve been.

“Master…once again, you’ve outdone yourself,” Erin said in amazement.

Not the least bit repulsed, she approached the heart of the dungeon. With each step she took, she felt herself drawn into a unique world with a very specific power structure. In that structure, she had no authority, whatsoever.

She wasn’t a colleague, a partner, or even a participant. She was a slave, plain and simple. She lived to serve a master and by serving him well, the benefits were many.

“My dear, subservient whore,” came a powerful voice over a loudspeaker. “Welcome back to our special domain.”

Every word echoed with such power and not just because it came through a speaker system that had been built into the walls. Still only a few steps from the bondage rack, Erin looked around until she located the other camera mounted on the wall. Instantly, she felt her master’s powerful presence.

“Greetings, Master,” Erin said with a respectful bow. “How may I serve you this evening?”

“Spoken like a good slave,” the voice responded. “You can start by stripping out of those itchy clothes.”

The young woman nodded obediently and complied with her master’s wishes. As she unbuttoned her blouse and removed her skirt, she made sure she stood in full view of the camera. She hadn’t forgotten how much her master loved watching her undress. It always pleased him, watching her reveal her womanly body to him. She already could feel his lustful eyes on her, especially as she removed her bra and panties.

After completing her impromptu striptease, she remained standing in the middle of the room, knowing multiple cameras were now focused on her naked body. She made no effort to cover her breasts, butt, or pussy. Erin wanted her master to admire her. She made it clear with the way she stood that she was a loyal, obedient slave. She was there to serve her master.

“Beautiful,” her master’s voice said through the speakers, “a loyal slave, naked and eager to serve their master’s desires. You are eager, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Master…very much so,” Erin replied.

“You say that, but I am unconvinced.”

The door on the other side of the cellar opened. It led to an area that served as a laundry room and a hub for the various electronics that she and her master had set up. It was always dark, but even within the tinted lighting, she could make out the imposing figure that emerged.

“Master,” she said with a mix of reverence and lust.

He reacted favorably to her words and tone. Wearing only a pair of denim pants, heavy black boots, and a matching leather vest that revealed part of his upper body, he carried himself with the poise of a titan. Erin couldn’t help but cower before him as he approached her naked form.

On the surface, Robert Grant might not have seemed that imposing. He’d met her friends, co-workers, and neighbors. From their perspective, he was just an ordinary middle-aged man who few recognized on a crowded street. He wasn’t that tall or heavily muscled. However, he was also a former soldier who had a strong appreciation for discipline. Unlike her, though, he preferred imposing it, rather than respecting it.

“My sweet little sex slave,” he said to her. “You weren’t lying. You are horny.”

He spoke as though his will made it a reality. As if to exact that will, he reached between her legs and cupped the outer folds of her womanhood. He didn’t ask permission and she didn’t resist. He was her master. She was his slave. There was no need.

“It must have been a stressful day,” her master said. “You’re so wet. It seems you need your master’s loving touch.”

“Yes, I need it. I need it so bad!” Erin said, barely hiding her desperation.

“Lucky for you, I’m fair and loving master. I take care of my slaves. I even reward them.”

Every word echoed with strength. Within that same strength was a distinct brand of love and care that only a master could offer. That was what Erin craved. It was what brought her such immense satisfaction.

She continued standing obedient before her husband/master, gazing at him with desperate eyes as he fondled her pussy while caressing her face, admiring both her naked body and her willful obedience. She knew how much that turned him on. She could already see a large bulge protruding in his pants.

Whether it was from her stripping naked or her subservience to his powerful touch, her master was aroused. That, on top of her own escalating arousal, filled their little dungeon with the thick scene of sex.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” her master said while cupping her chin. “I’m going to strap you to my new bondage rack. I’m going to render you completely bound. Then, I’m going to please myself with your submissive form. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master…very clear,” Erin said without hesitation.

“Resist, and it will get uncomfortable. Submit, and you too will be pleased. By pleasing your master, you will in turn please yourself. Trust in me…trust in your master’s authority and I will make sure of it.”

The dynamic was rigid, but simple. To be a good slave, she had to trust in her master. To be a good master, he had to honor her trust. It was the unspoken power of authority. It wasn’t just about one person imposing on another. Trust was what granted that power in the first place. By using it wisely, both master and slave could benefit.

“I trust you, Master,” Erin said while gazing intently into Robert’s eyes. “I submit to your authority. I freely offer you my heart and my body.”

“Very good, my beautiful slave,” he replied with an affectionate grin. “From this point forward, you will not speak unless I request it. My authority over you is total.”

As if to seal the deal, Robert leaned in and kissed her passionately on the lips. Still grasping her chin and cupping her pussy, Erin could feel the literal and figurative power he had over her. To some, it was scary, giving someone that much latitude over their body and will. For her, it was nothing short of exhilarating.

Upon parting their lips, he grabbed hold of her shoulders and led her to the bondage rack. Erin followed him freely, not resisting in the slightest, even when he lightly slapped her butt to make her move faster. If anything, that got her even more excited. It showed just how eager her master was to exercise his power over her.

“Get on the table,” her master demanded. “Get on all fours and face the wall.”

Erin wordlessly complied. The leather of the rack was already hot on her naked skin. It had definitely been a massage table at one point, but the modifications her master had made ensured it wouldn’t be that relaxing.

Once in position, her master did the rest. First, he grabbed her arms and placed them in shackles that were attached to the side of the rack. He then did the same with her ankles, ensuring her legs were spread in the process. The hot air flowing between her legs spread the scent of arousal within the confined room. However, the extent of her submission still wasn’t done.

Her limbs now restrained, Robert activated a mechanism within the rack that raised a metal bar so that it was just under her abdomen. It was cold to her naked skin, but she understood its purpose. Between it and the restraints, her hips and butt remained elevated, the path to her sex clear and unobstructed. Any resistance at that point would’ve been futile, but Erin had no intention of resisting.

“There! Bound, naked, and secure, like a good little sex slave,” her master said as he admired her form. “I like what I’m seeing thus far.”

“Thank you, Master,” Erin said.

“Hey! Did I give you permission to talk?”

Erin gasped to herself. In her aroused state, she momentarily undermined her master’s control over her. That was a clear violation. All her life, she’d been taught to abhor such violations. Her submission to her master was no exception.

“You spoke out of line,” Robert said, treating it as serious as any crime. “For that, you must be punished. Affirm that you will accept your master’s punishment.”

“I…I accept,” Erin said meekly.

“Good, my slave. Now, brace yourself for your master’s authority!”

The excitement kept growing. She felt the heat between her legs intensify. She heard her master making some preparations at a nearby table, but couldn’t see what they entailed. Not knowing only added to the excitement.

She was already short of breath. She barely had a chance to catch it by the time her master walked around to the front of the bondage rack and stood in front of her. Looking up, he towered over her naked form with such power and grandeur. It was akin to looking up at a demigod. She could only gaze up at him with submissive awe.

“Even good slaves need reminders,” he told her. “Be sure to commit this to memory.”

He spoke like a true disciplinarian, but one who understood and cared for what it meant. That was part of what had drawn Erin to her husband and master in the first place. Her appreciation for such a rigid approach drew him to her, as well, and it showed in a big way.

As he loomed over her, he undid his belt and pulled down his pants, freeing a throbbing-hard erection that had probably been building since she entered the dungeon. Upon kicking off his pants, he stood at the head of the bondage rack and grasped both sides of her head. He then aligned the tip of his penis with her lips.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Erin obeyed her master once again. His grip on her head intensified. Finally, with a firm jerk of the hips, he shoved his manhood into her mouth and began humping her face.

Her punishment had officially begun.

“That’s it!” Robert said intently. “Take your master’s cock. Suck it! Lick it! Take it all!”

“Ungh!” was all Erin got out.

It was overwhelming at first. Robert was exceptionally endowed. His average stature hinted otherwise, but when he got fully aroused, his dick was big enough to test anyone’s jaw muscles. For her master, though, Erin endured the strain.

She willfully and eagerly sucked him off, gagging and slurping along his length as he aggressively humped her face. It was messy and rough, but that was appropriate. It was punishment, after all. She had spoken out of line. Her master was right to discipline her. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been a capable master.

“Yes! My slave…accept your punishment! Respect your master!” Robert said, his presence radiating with domineering power.

He clung harder to her head, running his fingers through her hair as he face-fucked her without restraint. Erin, like a good slave, kept taking it. She never diverted her gaze from him, looking up as his member slithered rapidly between her lips. Already, her makeup was running and saliva dripped down her chin, an unambiguous effect of a submissive slave and a powerful master.

Punishment or not, the sight of her master’s pleased expression gave Erin a unique fulfillment. Only someone enamored by authority like her could understand such a feeling. Her punishment was her master’s joy. His fulfillment, in turn, became hers. It was a perfect embodiment of a master and slave embracing their roles.

From those roles, her own arousal escalated. Being restrained, dominated, and punished turned the mentality of a slave into a tangible feeling. Already, she craved more of it. However, she could only get that by serving her master and accepting her punishment.

Finally, just as her jaw began to falter from the strain, her master ceased his movements and withdrew.

“There! Your punishment is complete,” Robert told her. “You did well, slave. Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, Master,” she said obediently.

“Now that you appreciate my authority once more, you’re able to embrace its many benefits. Are you ready to embrace it?”

“Yes, Master. I’m ready!”

He knelt down and caressed her face. Unlike before, he was gentle and caring, looking upon her with affection rather than domination. It was another key trait of a strong master. When a slave accepted their punishment, they proved worthy of mercy. Robert, more than most masters, was capable of extremely satisfying mercy.

“I believe you,” he told her, “and because I’m a good master, I intend to reward your loving submission.”

“Thank you, Master. Thank you!”

Already breathing hard, her anticipation rising with each passing second, she watched as her loving master made good on his promise. Still bound and submissive, not resisting in the slightest, he could’ve done anything he wanted to her. However, she trusted him to do only what was necessary to ensure that both master and slave were satisfied.

As part of that effort, he retrieved another item from the table. It was an orange ball-gag, one custom-fitted for her mouth. Without saying a word, he put it in her mouth and secured it with ease, effectively silencing her and deepening her submission.

Then, he walked around to the other end of the bondage rack. At that point, she couldn’t see what he was doing. She had to trust him even more, believing her master knew best how to please her.

“A good slave is also a robust slave,” he said to her. “You’re tougher than most. You’ve proven that time and again. That’s why, as your master, I must be skilled in applying my power.”

There was a brief silence. Erin heard him retrieving something else from the table. She heard a bottle pop open, followed by the feeling of thick, lubricating gel pouring down her buttocks and inner thighs. Being so aroused, it wasn’t entirely necessary.

Then, she felt something hard and phallic-shaped press against her asshole.

“A little something I procured the other day,” Robert said seductively, “something I knew my slave would enjoy.”

With no further warning, he inserted the object into her. Erin’s gasped at the sharp feeling, her reaction muffled by the ball gag. She quickly identified it as a metal dildo, one specifically designed for anal sex. Her master had used one on her before, but only rare occasions.

That was because she loved anal sex and had never been shy about it. Her master often used that as an added reward for special occasions. Whatever the occasion might have been, she figured she’d been an exceptional slave because she felt the dildo vibrate.

“Mmmff!” Erin moaned, practically squealing through her gag.

“You feel that, don’t you?” her master said in his deep, authoritative tone. “I know you love it. A good master knows what his slave loves and believe me. I know.”

His certainty reflected his authority. The way he wielded it reminded Erin why she fell in love with Robert Grant and why she loved being his slave.

He knew how to dominate her in a way that made her want to be dominated. Already, she could feel a steady stream of sensations coursing through her body, the vibrating dildo stimulating her depths. She trembled under the feeling, already drooling through her ball gag as she descended further into a world of total submission.

Bound, gagged, and eager for more, Erin braced herself for what came next.

“I also know you love this,” he said, leaning over and whispering into her ear.

With the dildo still stimulating her anally, she felt her master position himself at the other end of the bondage race. From there, he grabbed hold of her waist with that strong, domineering grip of his and guided the tip of his rigid penis to her still-moist slit. He didn’t tease or tantalize her as a less certain lover would have. As soon as their bodies were aligned, he thrust his hips forward hard and confidently, driving his manly flesh into her womanly depths.

“Mhmm!” Erin gasped, her blissful delight apparent in her submissive squeals.

“Ohhh yeah!” her master grunted. “So hot and tight…you want this. You need this…my beautiful slave.”

His grip on her waist tighten as he began moving his hips, pumping his cock inside her throbbing depths with great vigor. He was not gentle or careful. He exerted the full force of his domination over her, rocking her body and the entire submission rack. The resulting sensations compounded the feeling evoked by the vibrating dildo, creating a steady onslaught of ecstasy that cascaded through her body.

It was incredible.

It was beautiful.

It was a perfect act of utter domination and complete submission.

From that feeling, a special passion emerged. Robert was her loving master and she was his willing slave. By trusting him with her heard and her body, he delivered to her a merciful ecstasy. By submitting to him, she gave him the trust and respect that made his authority strong. It made the act of exercising power as exhilarating as the pleasure it produced, creating the ultimate blend of intimacy and desire.

Together, Erin descended with him into a daze of bliss. Bound and gagged, she took the brunt of his lust, her body rocking every time his manly member plunged into her womanly depths. The sound of his pelvis smacking against her butt filled their dungeon, supplementing his dominating grunts and her muffled moans. The bondage rack trembled under the weight of their movements, but the restraints held up. That ensured she remained completely submissive when she achieved orgasm, just like she liked it.

“Mmm!” she exclaimed through the gag.

“Yes, my slave! Come! Come for your master!” Robert proclaimed.

He gave her buttocks a hard spank, as if to trigger her release on command. It worked almost too well. The resulting rush of pleasure was so intense she nearly passed out.

It was like a volcano erupting within her core, the onslaught of sensations coming together in a single burst. The feeling rippled through her from head to toe. It was a feeling she hadn’t actively pursued. She achieved it through submission to her master and his loving domination of her. It didn’t just leave her deeply satisfied. It further strengthened his authority over her.

“I’m going to keep fucking you, slave,” he told her. “You’re going to keep coming. Then, I’ll come…and your submission will be complete!”

That wasn’t a warning or a boast. That was a master simply telling his slave how things were going to be. Only a master of true authority could hope to speak with such certainty. Her husband, Robert Grant, was that kind of master.

He continued dominating her with his sex, even after the orgasmic sensations abated. He kept humping her and groping her bound flesh, squeezing her breasts and swatting her ass. Once again, he tested her ability to absorb his lust, as well as his love. As always, she passed with flying colors, achieving more orgasms in the process.

Erin wasn’t sure how many she’d had. She just made sure to soak in every last sensation as she embraced her submission, taking her master’s domination for as long as he needed. He always enjoyed drawing it out, as if to prove how well he’d mastered his authority. He had nothing to prove to her, his loyal slave, but that never stopped him from pushing it to the utmost.

By the time he finally neared his peak, her butt was sore and her limbs were strained by the shackles. None of that mattered, though. Just as her master pushed himself in his domination, she too pushed herself in her submission.

“I’m close! My loyal slave…I’m so close!” her master proclaimed.

In a final culmination, he imparted his last outburst of lust, rocking her body so hard that her restraints almost gave out. They held on just long enough for him to finally achieve his peak. When it hit, he let out a of domineering grunt worthy of a skilled and loving master.

His member throbbed.

His nails dug into her naked flesh.

His sweat mixed with hers, showing the extent of his exertion.

Their intimate act complete, her lover withdrew from her and removed the vibrating dildo. He also leaned over and removed the ball gag, finally allowing her to catch her breath and rest her jaw.

As their intimate fluids mixed within her, the finality of what she and Robert had done set in. She willingly submitted to him and he eagerly dominated her. From it, they achieved something beautiful…something that wasn’t possible without a trust and love built on a foundation of authority.

“I love you…my sexy, submissive slave,” Robert said to her.

“I love you too…my wonderful, loving master,” Erin replied.

“I’m going to unlock your restraints,” he said. “I think I’ve sufficiently asserted my authority for today.”

“That you have,” she said, “but strong authority always benefits from frequent reminders.”

“Don’t worry, Erin. I’ve got elaborate plans for plenty more reminders!”

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Daily Sexy Musings: The Sex Appeal Of Power

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Power is sexy. It’s not always the most obvious kind of sex appeal and for some powerful individuals, it’s downright counter-intuitive. It’s still an undeniable force in our collective libido. From King Solomon to modern despots, power has been linked with sex appeal for as long as people have been horny.

Power, be it physical or political, is often both an ends and a means. When you’re in the presence of someone powerful, they can do things for you and others that no ordinary human being can do. They can snap their fingers and make random people dance in their honor. They can procure resources that are difficult to get, even for those with ample money.

When you’re around that kind of power, it’s bound to affect you. Sometimes, it’s scary and for good reason. Powerful people are often the ones who commit egregious atrocities. At the same time, however, fear can be arousing. Your brain and your genitals don’t always know the difference and that can influence how you see someone’s sex appeal.

Powerful people don’t have to be beautiful. They don’t necessarily have to be brutal, either. However, gaining power and wielding it requires a level of charisma that’s bound to attract others on a primal level. Regardless of how you feel about the current people in power, there’s no denying that they have an appeal that goes beyond sexiness.

This Daily Sexy Musing acknowledges that appeal, as well as the unique aspects surrounding it. We may not always like it and it may not always bring out the best in people, but it’s influence is profound and, when power is wielded just right, it’s effects can be pretty intense.

At first, I’m afraid. I feel the dread washing over me from head to toe. With every step you take, I tremble harder. I know who you are and what you’re capable of. Your hands can do plenty, but it’s your words that can move people and mountains. In the face of such power, what hope do I have?

Through that fear, another feeling emerges.

Through that fear, I see you in another light.

Through that fear, my dread clashes with something deeper.

As I tremble, you gaze upon me with imposing eyes. Without saying a word, you let me know that we are not equals. You are the titan while I am the insect. My worth is trivial. Yours will transcend the ages. On a whim, you could end me, but you don’t. That alone compounds the feeling.

I’m in danger, but I’m also excited.

I’m in awe, but I’m also disgusted.

I’m so afraid, but I’m also aware.

I’m so repulsed, but I’m also intrigued.

The conflict rages within me. I don’t know what to do. I can only cower in your presence, either hoping for mercy or bracing for wrath. I have no control. You have the power. You make all the choices. My body and soul are literally in your hands.

Finally, you exercise your power. I remain still as a statue as you reach out and touch my face. As soon as your hand meets my skin, everything comes into place. Like magic, you shatter the dread and replace it with something else entirely. I continue to tremble, but for very different reasons.

I cannot escape it. My body and my heart betray me. I want you. My desires carry no weight, but yours has infinite worth. Your slightest touch radiates with the greatest intensity. Without words or actions, I’m drawn in. I offer myself to you.

Your power makes you so strong.

My weakness makes me so vulnerable.

Together, we achieve an intimate balance.

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Exploring Radical (And Kinky) Idealism: “Wonder Woman Earth One Volume Two” Review

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When “Wonder Woman Earth One: Volume 1” came out in 2016, it was groundbreaking in how it re-imagined Wonder Woman while reconnecting her with her kinkier roots. For years, she’d been moving away from the unique brand of feminism that her creator, William Moulton Marston, had once defined her. This culminated in her 2017 movie in which all the BDSM connotation were purged from her persona.

While many creative forces over multiple decades turned Wonder Woman into someone very different from her creator had intended, Grant Morrison and Yanick Paquette went in the opposite direction. They dared to embrace the kinks and reshape Wonder Woman’s story in a way that works while retaining Marston’s original themes.

That story remains one of my favorite Wonder Woman stories of all time and one I’ve gone out of my way to praise. Finally, after a two-year wait and a prolonged absence of kink from superhero comics, “Wonder Woman Earth One: Volume 2” has arrived. Fans of warrior women, feminist utopias, and not-so-subtle bondage themes can rejoice.

Like any sequel, it faces the inescapable challenge of matching the high bar set by its predecessor. On top of that, it also has to dig deeper into an aspect of Wonder Woman that generations of writers have tried to overwrite or ignore. Even with an elevated profile, thanks to her movie, this is a part of Wonder Woman’s persona that is largely unknown or undeveloped.

The greatest challenge of Volume 1 was to reintroduce Marston’s radical concepts of love, submission, and domination in a way that didn’t feel like bad fan fiction. Morrison and Paquette succeeded by building the story around this dazzling, techno-feminist utopia on a mythology built on ideas that seem antithetical to the world dominated by lies, mistrust, and cynicism.

If the goal of that story was to affirm the potential of these ideas, then “Wonder Woman Earth One: Volume 2” is built around how those ideas are challenged. It’s one thing to defend them on an island paradise populated by immortal warrior women of unyielding compassion. It’s quite another to defend them in a world where gay frogs inspire conspiracy theories.

Wonder Woman’s situation is considerably different this time around. She’s not insulated on her island paradise. She’s well-known public figure, an established superhero, and a vocal proponent for her radical ideology. She presents it as a viable way of achieving peace and justice in a world full of suffering and hatred. Unlike other wide-eyed idealists, she comes off as entirely genuine.

Not surprisingly, the world isn’t eager to sign up for her novel approach of peace through submission to a loving authority. It doesn’t just come from grumpy old men who only want women to make babies and sandwiches, either. Even among other women, her ideas are challenged and deconstructed throughout the story.

What does it even mean to submit to a loving authority?

Why is she so sure that it’ll work in the world outside her idyllic homeland?

How are men supposed to approach this concept?

How far is she willing to go to implement her ideas?

These are all difficult questions that get asked throughout the story. Wonder Woman doesn’t avoid these questions, but she doesn’t get a chance to answer them either. Even though she is celebrated by many, nobody seems capable of embracing her ideology as completely as her.

To further complicate this challenge, Nazis enter the picture. Trust me, it’s not as shallow as it sounds. The story isn’t built around Wonder Woman acting like Captain America, traveling the world and punching Nazis. In fact, the way she handles her enemies in this story is very different to the methods she used in the “Wonder Woman” movie. However, that’s where the story gains both complications and nuance.

Through a few flashbacks and side-plots, we get to see how Wonder Woman’s ideology confronts something that’s completely antithetical to everything she stands for. Initially, it looks like her approach works. She’s so compassionate and so empathetic that she can take violent, hate-filled Nazis and redeem their souls. That’s where the complications come in.

In both the events that unfolded in the past and those that play out in the present, we see shortcoming of Wonder Woman’s ideals. It’s not that someone taints or disproves them. As the conflict plays out, we see how the components necessary to make her ideology work aren’t as abundant as they are in her homeland. As a result, Wonder Woman pays a price for her idealism and it’s a steep, heartbreaking price.

Not all of it is a direct result of her ideology, though. Wonder Woman also deals with a devious adversary in Dr. Psycho, who effectively turns her ideals against her. He doesn’t just question or deconstruct the merits of submission to a loving authority. He manipulates them to his own ends, which plays right into the hands of her critics.

It’s tragic in that it leads to heartache for Wonder Woman and her friends, but it stops short of breaking her. This is Wonder Woman, after all. Loss, defeat, and criticism do not break her. No mortal or God can break her. Those are her words, not mine. These challenges, however, put her in a difficult position where she has to confront unpleasant truths.

Without spoiling too many plot points, I’ll note that Wonder Woman comes to realize that there are grater complexities to loving submission than she ever could’ve realized. She sees first-hand how difficult it is to get someone to willingly submit in a world where weakness can invite harm, exploitation, and injustice. Just preaching her message isn’t enough. By not doing more, it costs her and those she cares about.

In terms of the larger narrative, “Wonder Woman Earth One: Volume 2” is a wonderfully effective evolution of the world that Morrison and Paquette created. Along the way, the story continues to embrace the unique principles of the original iteration of Wonder Woman that Marston crafted in 1942.

Not entirely, that is.

If there’s any shortcoming to the narrative, it’s how incomplete it feels at the end. It’s not a cliff-hanger, but there are many lingering plot threads that don’t get resolved. Granted, it says on the final page that there is a Volume 3 planned for this series. Given the two-year gap in between this book and its predecessor, the wait seems nothing short of agonizing.

Even with those dangling threads, “Wonder Woman Earth One: Volume 2” is still a complete Wonder Woman story that’s unlike anything you’ll get in the movies or comics. If I had to score it, I would give it a 9 out of 10. The lack of resolution at the end is the only thing keeping it from a perfect score. It still gets so many things right about who Wonder Woman is and why she’s so endearing.

The fact that she can be endearing while retaining the radical spirit that Marston had envisioned helps make “Wonder Woman Earth One: Volume 2” all the more remarkable. She’s not just a fierce warrior woman. She’s the personification of a different approach to gender, power, and love. It may seem bizarre and kinky to us, but it has powerful implications for people of any gender.

It doesn’t go overboard with the BDSM undertones, nor does it focus heavily on gender politics. They are mentioned, but not forced into the plot. There are things Wonder Woman does that feminists, conservatives, and BDSM fans can get behind. At every turn, she carries herself as someone who is willing to embrace everyone. It’s that unconditional, universal compassion that makes her Wonder Woman.

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Filed under comic book reviews, gender issues, superhero comics, superhero movies, Wonder Woman

Why Sex Addiction (Probably) Doesn’t Exist

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When it comes to human psychology, addiction is like quantum physics in that few understand it and Hollywood constantly gets it wrong. I know I say it a lot on this blog, but it’s worth belaboring. People are complicated. One person may watch “Star Wars” and think it’s the greatest piece of cinema of all time. Another may watch it and say it has no redeeming values.

That’s an important context to consider when discussing topics of addiction, which affects a significant portion of the human population. According to Addiction Center, there are approximately 20.6 million people over the age of 12 struggling with an addiction. According to the Centers for Disease Control, over 200,000 people have died since 1999 from prescription drug abuse alone.

Addiction is a serious issue. I know people who have struggled with addiction. I think everybody knows someone in their lives, be they a friend or relative, who has struggled with an addiction of some sorts. Addiction is real and there’s actual biology behind it. As such, it stands to reason that the rising instance of sexual addiction is real.

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Before I scrutinize this sexy, yet unsexy phenomenon, I need to preface this by acknowledging that our collective understanding of these issues is still developing. What we consider a psychological dysfunction today may end up just being a healthy variation within the diversity of human thought. That’s why homosexuality is no longer considered a disease.

That context is important to establish because the term “sex addict” has been thrown around a lot lately. It’s not quite on the level of “fake news” or “soy boy,” but it has been cropping up, especially in wake of the recent scandals in Hollywood. Both Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey claimed to be sex addicts after their scandals.

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Needless to say, not everybody buys that excuse. Given my propensity to bemoan excuses, I count myself among them. These men claiming that sex addiction caused their deplorable behavior comes off as a pitiful attempt to gain sympathy, trying to paint themselves as sick. It also assumes a lot about the complex nature of addiction.

It’s true that we can become addicted to damn near anything, but it’s not just a matter of one particular activity flooding the pleasure centers of our brain more than others. Alcoholics don’t get the same orgasmic release from a cold beer that a sex addict gets from a quickie in the shower. There are other psychological forces behind it.

Since we can’t yet read the minds of an individual person, we have only a cursory understanding of those forces. However, there is an established criteria for addiction within a medical context. The American Psychiatric Association, describes addiction as follows:

Addiction is a complex condition, a brain disease that is manifested by compulsive substance use despite harmful consequence. People with addiction (severe substance use disorder) have an intense focus on using a certain substance(s), such as alcohol or drugs, to the point that it takes over their life. They keep using alcohol or a drug even when they know it will causes problems.

At the same time, it establishes a clear difference between just being addicted to a certain activity, like sex, eating, or playing World of Warcraft for 29 hours straight, and the addiction caused by drugs. They don’t even call it addiction. They have a more official label called Substance Use Disorder. Their description of this condition is a lot scarier than just someone who has more orgasms than most.

People with a substance use disorder have distorted thinking, behavior and body functions. Changes in the brain’s wiring are what cause people to have intense cravings for the drug and make it hard to stop using the drug. Brain imaging studies show changes in the areas of the brain that relate to judgment, decision making, learning, memory and behavior control.

These substances can cause harmful changes in how the brain functions. These changes can last long after the immediate effects of the drug — the intoxication. Intoxication is the intense pleasure, calm, increased senses or a high caused by the drug. Intoxication symptoms are different for each substance.

I bring up this distinction because more than one person has described sex like a drug. In doing so, it’s easier to accept that those claiming to suffer from sex addiction have a real ailment. Sex is a powerful drive that evokes pleasure that some brain scans have compared to heroin. Does it not stand to reason that sex addicts are in the same boat as heroin addicts?

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The short answer is no. Sex addicts and heroin addicts are as different from one another as an arm-wrestling contest and an underground fight club. Addiction to heroin has a strict criteria for diagnosis. Sex addiction doesn’t meet that criteria in that alleged addicts don’t respond the same way that those suffering from Substance Use Disorder respond.

According to research done by UCLA, the reactions of those claiming porn addiction did not mirror those addicted to other activities like drinking, smoking, etc. Within that same research, it was also uncovered that sex addiction lacks one of the most important features of an addiction, namely that of diminished response from the pleasure centers of the brain.

That’s key because one of the most damaging factors of an addiction is that over time, the addictive behavior doesn’t light up the pleasure centers of the brain like it used to. That’s why alcoholics need more alcohol and crack addicts need more crack to get the same high. Brain scans show that in drug abuse. They don’t show it in sex addiction.

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In fact, the conclusions of the researchers on sex addiction were somewhat mundane. According to the data gathered from the brains and experiences of real people, the idea of sex addiction is nothing more than having a high sex drive and poor impulse control. That’s not an addiction. That’s a personality quirk. If anything, the very term “sex addiction” undermines the suffering of real addicts.

I know those conclusions is not going to convince those who genuinely believe that they’re struggling with sex addiction. I don’t doubt that these people are struggling and it’s negatively impacting their lives, their families, and their relationships. However, I believe putting it in the same category as drug abuse only skews our understanding of addiction and sexuality.

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Some people are really just a lot hornier than others. In the same way some people have a bigger appetite for food, some have a bigger appetite for sex. Unlike food, though, those suffering from eating disorders don’t blame the entire concept of food. There are often other psychological factors behind it.

Sex also has another complication that food and eating don’t. Our culture has an established set of sexual norms that idealize some forms of sexuality and shame others. Even though we’ve accepted more diversity in recent decades, we still idealize monogamous romances where those involved only have sex to make babies or explore the kind of passion reserved for a scene in “Titanic.”

As a result, anything that deviates from that narrative, be they an open relationship or just wanting to hump for the sake of humping, is subject to scorn or shaming. I’ve noted the flaws in this sort of narrative before, but on a much larger scale, it creates a situation where certain manifestations of sex become less a variation and more a disease.

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Like homosexuality, though, treating those variations as flawed or damaged doesn’t make them go away. It’s possible for a drug addict to get treatment to repair the damage those drugs have done to their bodies and minds. It’s not possible to complete reshape and remold someone’s baseline sexual desires without causing serious damage.

To really get an idea of how this can motivate self-professed sex addicts to engage in such erratic behaviors, imagine for a moment that you’re a heterosexual person in a world where only homosexuality is accepted. As such, you’re expected to enter a homosexual relationship with someone and remain in that relationship indefinitely.

That means you have to ignore or temper your basic sexual desires in order to operate in that society without shame or scrutiny. You have to pretend that the relationship you’re in is sufficient when you know it’s not. Since you can’t turn off your brain or your basic desires, it’s going to mess with your mind and inspire erratic behavior.

It’s for that reason that sex addiction, as it’s currently understood, probably doesn’t exist. I say probably because, as I pointed out earlier, our understanding of sexuality, psychology, and the human experience is still limited. For now, though, our conclusions are fairly simple. You’re not an addict. You’re just really horny and you live in a society that doesn’t afford you the opportunities to explore those feelings.

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Professor Marston & The Wonder Women Trailer (A Non-Traditional Love Story)

When we look back on 2017, I think it’s safe to say that many will see it as the year that Wonder Woman shined and the year that the “mic drop” officially became overused.

There’s no doubt about it. This has been a damn good year for Wonder Woman. Her movie was a hit with critics and fans alike. Her comic raised the bar for female heroes while also letting her get laid. She’s on a winning streak right now that we don’t usually see unless the New York Yankees and the New England Patriots are involved.

However, 2017 isn’t done with Wonder Woman just yet. It’s not enough that her movie may have single-handedly saved the DC Extended Universe, established Gal Gadot as an A-list actress with A-list sex appeal, and raised the bar for female directors like Patty Jenkins. Wonder Woman, being the iconic female hero that she is, just has to go the extra distance.

That brings me back to the man who created this sexy female icon, William Marston. In a sense, Wonder Woman is one of those characters that could never have emerged from a traditional mind looking to create a traditional hero. For her to become the icon she is now, she needed an unconventional mind and William Marston was definitely that.

I’ve talked a bit about the origins of Wonder Woman and the not-so-secret BDSM elements within that origin. A lot of that is a direct result of the non-traditional thinking that William Marston used in creating Wonder Woman. It was also the product of a very non-traditional life, some of which had some very kinky connotations.

The story behind that kinky life is now about to get some overdue attention and at the best possible time. Wonder Woman’s star couldn’t be flying higher. Why shouldn’t the man behind the sexy icon get a little attention? It’s 2017. Kink is already mainstream, thanks to internet porn and best selling novels based on Twilight fan fiction. The timing couldn’t be better.

That leads me to the upcoming quasi-biopic on William Marston, “Professor Marston & The Wonder Women.” Admit it. You probably didn’t know that a movie like this was being made. Even ardent Wonder Woman fans probably didn’t know.

It’s happening, though. This is not some weird fan film or parody to poke fun at Wonder Woman’s BDSM origins. This is a real movie starring Luke EvansRebecca Hall, and JJ Feild. It’s even being directed by a woman, Angela Robinson, who was a writer/producer on the sexy bloody spectacle that was “True Blood.” This movie is coming out later this year and last week, the trailer dropped.

It’s a very different trailer compared to “Wonder Woman.” It’s supposed to be different. It might not have as many warrior women. It might not have a naked Chris Pine. However, it does have some sexy, but kinky connotations.

Unlike Stan Lee, Bob Kane, or Jack Kirby, who are icons in their own right for the characters they created, William Marston kind of gets forgotten. Granted, he didn’t create nearly as many iconic characters as Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. However, it was his non-traditional views and the non-traditional life he lived that might have made it easier for people to dissociate the man from his creation.

As the trailer shows, Marston was an unusual voice at a time in history before the modern feminist movement and before the sexual revolution. He believed in peace through submission, seeing submission as an act of love. He also believed that women were more honest than men in certain situations. He never said they were superior, but he made it a point to highlight female strengths, as often revealed in Wonder Woman.

On top of those unusually progressive views at a time when women were still seen as nurses, teachers, and baby-makers, Marston had a non-traditional view of love. He was married to Elizabeth Holloway Marston, but theirs was a somewhat open marriage in that he also had a relationship with a woman named Olive Byrne.

It was not at all akin to the kinds of open relationships that make for raunchy TV shows about Mormons or the kinky softcore porn series that used to play on premium cable. It was a real relationship and, as the trailer showed, it was very different in terms of substance and approach. In a sense, you can say that Marston had a non-traditional relationship to match his non-traditional views.

Even today, his views on men, women, and the ways they relate to one another would be odd. Chances are, he would evoke protests from the overly politically correct crowd. That probably wouldn’t dissuade him, though. If anything, those protests would prove a part of the point he was trying to make, which was reflected somewhat in the trailer.

He claimed that there was peace and happiness to be found in submission. To the ardent individualist, which is very much at the heart of western culture, that sounds abhorrent. That sounds like something slave-masters would say to keep their slaves content, which was a thing, sadly. However, that’s not the kind of submission Marston was talking about.

In Marston’s kinky world, to submit to someone willingly is an act of love and to accept that submission with love is the apex of human connection. He sees the endless struggle to dominate everything around you, be it a person, a job, a pet, or World of Warcraft, as the source of conflict.

He also labels that kind of dominating persona as a very masculine trait. While it’s not exclusively masculine, he sees it as a common thread among male-driven narratives. Conversely, he sees women as having a greater capacity for that kind of loving submission. Wonder Woman is, in his point of view, embodies the greatest capacity for that kind of love.

Wonder Woman loves and embraces everyone around her. Her capacity for love, regardless of gender, is well-documented over her 70-year history. Sure, the kink has been largely filtered out with a few notable exceptions, namely “Wonder Woman: Earth One.” That only makes the elements Marston used in creating her all the more profound.

In some ways, William Marston was ahead of his time in creating a female hero that emphasized what he saw as female traits. He never tried to make Wonder Woman as strong or as capable in the same way as Superman or Batman. She wasn’t supposed to prove that women could be as strong as men. Just being a woman gave her a unique strength all her own.

You could also say he was ahead of his time, with respect to how he conducted his personal life. He didn’t bother with the ideal of monogamy, one man and one woman being in love until the day they died. He and the two women in his life forged their own brand of love and family. They followed their own romantic path.

They never claimed their non-traditional brand of love made them superior. That would’ve defeated the point. In Marston’s kinky world, any effort to dominate others through force, shame, or debate was pointless. In the end, the best way to bring peace is to conduct yourself in a way that makes others want to submit to your loving authority.

That’s not just my interpretation. When he was once asked by The American Scholar in 1943 about why Wonder Woman would appeal to men, he said this.

“Give them an alluring woman stronger than themselves to submit to, and they’ll be proud to become her willing slaves!”

As a comic book fan, a fan of beautiful women, and a fan of female strength in general, I whole-heartedly agree. The success of the “Wonder Woman” movie, over 70 years of comics, and a top place in the pantheon of iconic female heroes says a lot about our willingness to submit. Perhaps “Professor Marston & The Wonder Women” will help us appreciate that even more.

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Wonder Woman And Sex Positivity

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I know I’ve been talking about Wonder Woman a lot lately. No, I’m not going to apologize for that. I’ve had a perfectly valid reason and no need for excuses. It’s not unreasonable to say that Wonder Woman is having the best year she’s had in her 75-year history and that includes the era in which she made Lynda Carter a sex symbol.

The “Wonder Woman” movie is an unabashed success. Just this past week, it surpassed both “Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice” and “Suicide Squad” to become the highest-grossing DC Comics movie to date on the domestic front. It managed to do all this with a female director in Patty Jenkins, a strong female lead in Gal Gadot, and a naked Chris Pine. I think ladies everywhere deserve to flex their ovaries this year.

As great a year as she’s had, there’s been another major development with Wonder Woman that will likely slip under the radar. That’s a shame too because it’s an important development, which is another way of saying it has very sexy implications. Given the nature of this blog, it would be a professional failure on my part if I didn’t talk about it.

In this case, it has to do with what’s been going on with Wonder Woman in the comics. Now, I don’t deny that a very small percentage of the people who saw the “Wonder Woman” movie actually follow the current comics. Most have probably read Wonder Woman comics in the past, seen her in various cartoons, or watched the old Lynda Carter TV show.

The current comics, however, are kind of an afterthought. That’s understandable in some cases. If you only saw the “Captain America” movie, you might be a little confused to find out he’s a Hydra agent in the comics. If you only ever saw the “Iron Man” movie, you might even more confused to find out that Tony Stark is in a coma and Iron Man is a 15-year-old black girl from Chicago.

The comics are confusing, convoluted, and frustrating to say the least. I say that as someone who has been closely following comics for nearly two decades. There are so many different interpretations, alternate universes, and re-launches that most reasonable people would decide it’s not worth the aggravation. I like to think I’m reasonable in most instances, but I guess my love of comics is just that strong.

For those Wonder Woman fans who do follow DC’s iconic comics, they got an overdue, but extra-satisfying treat. As part of DC’s ongoing Rebirth initiative, Wonder Woman’s comic was re-launched and revamped in a way that helped streamline a mess of conflicting continuities and scrambled timelines. Trust me, it’s much more complicated than it sounds. Just look up something called “Flashpoint” to see what I mean.

If you’re a Wonder Woman fan, though, you don’t need to know the cow shit to appreciate the flowers. Under the pen of Greg Rucka, an accomplished comic book writer who has written Wonder Woman in the past, and Liam Sharp, an equally-accomplished comic book artist, Wonder Woman’s entire story underwent an overhaul.

That story is one that I cannot recommend enough to Wonder Woman fans. If you loved the movie, then you’ll love these comics. They cover everything that makes Wonder Woman great. Her heart, her compassion, her warrior spirit, and her sex appeal is all on highlighted in all the right ways for all the right reasons. It may very well be the most balanced she’s ever been as a character.

However, it’s the conclusion of that story, which culminated just last week with the release of Wonder Woman #25, that introduces an important element to Wonder Woman’s story. It goes beyond simply capping off a successful run on an iconic comic book series in a satisfying way. That alone is pretty remarkable, especially at a time when comic companies can’t resist killing major characters for a sales boost.

Specifically, it has to do with Wonder Woman’s sexuality. I know that’s a favorite topic of mine and for good reason. Her sexuality is actually pretty broad compared to other male heroes who simply want to bang supermodels all day. Her origins have strong ties to the world of BDSM and in recent years, she has been revealed to be bisexual.

Despite these details, Wonder Woman has been one of those characters who has been sexually nullified, so to speak. For a good chunk of her history, she’s never been allowed to be overtly sexy. Sure, her attire is sexy and she’s not exactly shy about showing off her body. When it comes to having an actual sex life, though, it might as well be on par with the Hulk’s penis. We know it’s there. It’s just not something we talk about.

Sure, she’s allowed to have love interests. Steve Trevor, who was played by Chris Pine in the movie, is her most famous. She’s had others, including Batman in the Justice League cartoon and Superman in the comics at one point. However, the sexuality in all those relationships is severely muted, if not outright ignored.

That changed somewhat in Wonder Woman #25. Greg Rucka and Liam Sharp actually acknowledged that Wonder Woman can be sexual and it doesn’t have to be some big, shocking ordeal. She’s a powerful woman and she has sex. That should not be shocking on any level.

On top of that, Rucka and Sharp make it a point to mix Wonder Woman’s sexual inclinations with her romantic inclinations. Remember, Steve Trevor? Well, now he’s not just the man who managed to get Chris Pine naked in  the “Wonder Woman” movie. He’s the one who makes love with Wonder Woman in Wonder Woman #25. I’m sure both Chris Pine and Gal Gadot would approve.

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It was a sweet, beautiful scene that mixed both romance and sexuality. After a long journey that had many heart-wrenching moments, Wonder Woman returns to Steve, who prepared a romantic night for them. She opted to skip most of it, head into the bedroom, and make love. I’m not going to lie or apologize. That moment made me shed tears of joy and gave me a boner.

It may not seem like a big deal, Wonder Woman getting frisky with her oldest and most well-known love interest. Trust me, both as an erotica/romance writer and a comic book fan. It’s a huge deal and it adds a critical dimension to Wonder Woman’s character that tends to get censored way too often, which is sex positivity.

I’ve talked about sex positivity before, namely how it stands in contrast to sex negative feminism. I’ve even talked about distinctly sex positive superheroes like Starfire. Given Wonder Woman’s status as a feminine ideal, you’d think she would be naturally sex positive. That thinking wouldn’t be dead wrong, but it wouldn’t be right either.

It may be a result of her having not-so-subtle BDSM origins. It may also be a byproduct of the heavy censorship comics endured for most of its history, thanks largely to a bullshit moral panic from the 1950s that nearly killed the industry. Whatever the reasons, Wonder Woman’s BDSM origins were purged and her sexuality was effectively ignored.

She was still a woman, but her sexuality was about as prominent as her appendix. Her entire persona, even into the modern era, emphasized her warrior woman status. She only fought and looked good while doing it. That was pretty much the core of her character.

Now that’s not to say she had no other appeals. She most certainly did. However, her sexuality, and even her attitudes towards sex, were either ignored or circumvented. That’s why this new development in Wonder Woman #25 is so critical.

In this case, Wonder Woman actually did something even Starfire struggles to accomplish. She created a perfect balance of sexuality and love. Starfire may have a very healthy attitude towards sex and nudity, but she tends to be too casual when it comes to romance. She’s perfectly comfortable having sex, but expressing love through sex is a bit trickier.

For Wonder Woman, it’s a natural manifestation of her loving, compassionate personality. She has love for her friends, her fellow heroes, and Steve Trevor. Rucka and Sharp just let her express it through her sexuality in a way that was sincere, meaningful, and perfectly appropriate for the context of the story.

That kind of sex positivity is exceedingly rare these days. I’ve said before that the world needs more of it. There are ominous signs that society is becoming more sexually uptight. Sexuality, especially of the female variety, is still very much a taboo. Men and women alike seem to have conflicting attitudes that can manifest in unhealthy ways.

How fitting is it that Wonder Woman, the most iconic female hero of the last century, finds a way to achieve a beautiful balance between sexuality and romance? It’s a powerful element that I hope DC Comics doesn’t censor once more. A female hero knows how to fight, love, and make love in a meaningful, compelling way is a beautiful story in its own right. You could even say it’s a true wonder.

Yes, I know that sounds cheesy as hell. No, I’m not going to apologize for that either.

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