D is for Dacryphilia, or Cry, Little Subbie, Cry
D is for Dacryphilia
Dacryphilia is described as a fetish in which one is aroused by tears or sobbing.
Of all the Doms I’ve ever scened with, I don’t think there’s been a single one who has not viewed the act of bringing their submissive to tears as something to be proud of it. It would be poor form and a stereotype for me to say all Doms love for this to happen, because I haven’t met every Dom in the existence…yet…and I don’t like to speak in stereotypes. However, all the ones that I have talked to universally view this as a badge of pride to be sewn to their Boy Scout merit sashes and displayed right alongside their badges for, say, electricity, water sports, robotics…I so want to meet this Boy Scout. …Dentistry?!? Send him into the woods for a weekend with penknife and he comes home with badge for dentistry?!? I’m not lying—look at this list!
Maren, get back on topic.
Okay, okay. But I officially no longer want to meet this guy. Or any Boy Scout. Ever.
I don’t know about other bottoms/submissives, but the release of tears doesn’t just happen with me. It doesn’t happen all the time and it certainly doesn’t happen without one hell of a good warm-up. To get me to cry (especially sans a trusty penknife and a badge in dentristry), a Dom has to get into my head, sync his need with mine and put me in a place I don’t particularly want to go. But if he can do that, he’ll have me crying by the end (which sounds awful to anyone who has never experienced the rush of that kind of release—trust me, it’s not awful), and there he’ll be, feeling his own rush of power, skill and satisfaction because he was able to do that.
And right here, I have to break in with added information. Author Trent Evens left a comment that I thought perfectly describes what a Dom goes through when the tears begin to flow. It’s in the comments, but I also had to add it here, because
This is a subject I’m UBER conflicted about, because those tears can (sometimes) elicit two different, seemingly incongruent emotions.
Yes, those tears, because they are a concrete manifestation of such strong emotion are indeed arousing but only in a BDSM context, mainly because the first thing a Dom thinks is: “What has she been put through to draw out those tears?”
The other emotion those tears elicit is an overwhelming urge to comfort her — even if I happened to be the cause of those tears — and in that very act of comforting her, that primal male urge to be useful, to protect, is tapped into. And that in itself is arousing!
It makes no sense whatsoever to me, but that’s the unvarnished truth of it.
I call it the Crying/Comforting Dichotomy, and I know for a fact I’m not the only Dom who feels it.
But is this what dacryphilia is? A Dom may be loving the hell out of my tears. He may be charged, flush with his own rampaging endorphins, and even horny as hell—but that is not dacryphilia if what brought him to that state is, say, the crack of the impact, the moans, gasps or shouts of his submissive, or the use or prospective use of any number of sharp and/or oral insertables that might be at his disposal.
Dacryphilia is very specific. It is sexual arousal specifically triggered by the weeping of another. Of all the people I’ve talked to and/or scened with, only two have admitted to this particular fetish. If it’s more prevalent than this, it’s not hard to see why people might not want to own up. Usually when you see someone getting off on making another person cry, your first thought isn’t: What a big, sexy hunk of dominant man-flesh that guy is! It’s probably closer to: What an asshole!
Not all Doms are sadists, but I think it’s pretty safe to say that someone with this particular fetish is. Maybe it only depends on how he uses it. Like a superpower, does he use it for good or evil? Even in BDSM, evil destroys. It breaks down, providing no avenue for comfort or rebirth. It’s unhealthy and, in my book, unforgivable. But, used for good…?
When I first decided to do the A to Z blog hop, I knew early on that dacryphilia was going to be on my list, but I had one hell of a time finding a good description of it in any of the erotica stories I have on my Nook or Kindle. I’ve written about it, but never called it by its name. I’m sure I’ve read about it from other authors, but they don’t call it by its name either. Nobody really even spells it out. It wasn’t until I put out a request among my author friends that someone introduced me to this little gem by someone I’d never read before. Her name is Kitty Thomas and the book this excerpt is from is called ‘The Auction’.
**I’m going to give a spoiler alert, which I almost never do, but to understand this scene and not read it as if it were the most appalling thing you’d ever seen in your life (unless, of course, your dentist is a former Boy Scout and likes to do things the old-fashioned way), you must understand that this is a paranormal story with a paranormal hero. He is giving her a normal punishment that a female of his species would heal from in a matter of minutes and doesn’t yet realize that humans don’t share this healing ability. Once he does, he resorts to using a strap like any other normal Dom and spankings then abound.
A single tear rolled down my cheek, and he smiled.
“Please don’t hurt me.”
“You should have thought about that before you disobeyed.”
I’d expected him to hit me, but instead, he held me down on the bed, and then his claw was pressed against my back. I cried out at the burning sensation as my skin broke apart.
“Please, stop, you’re killing me.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. I am not killing you.’
He’d arrange me so that my feet were planted on the floor, with my upper body draped over the bed, exactly the position one might expect to be in for rear entry sex or perhaps a spanking. He kept clawing methodically as I lay there and sobbed.
The more I cried, the more he seemed to like it. His erection pressed against my ass, as he spelled out words. It was my language. To try to control the pain, I focused on deciphering the message. When he was finished, what I came up with was: Bad Slut.
The words, even more than the pain, made me cry harder. I didn’t know why. He hauled me up to stand and turned me to face him. His tongue darted out. I was taken aback by the fact that it was forked, like a snake, but thicker. Before I could ponder yet another difference between us, he was licking the tears off my face while he held me in something like a lover’s embrace.
He stopped for a moment and pulled back to look in my eyes. “I love the sound and smell and taste. You will make more tears for me.” It wasn’t a request.
I find this scene hot for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is the fantasy aspect. I love Doms, but I love demon Doms more. All dominant men should be demons, in my opinion, especially when it comes to the bedroom. And that last line, ‘It wasn’t a request,’ is just perfect, which only goes to show, you should always take a chance on new authors. You never know when you might find a lovely little gem like this.
Belle Walker lives in a strict society where women are treated as property, sold to the highest bidder soon after their eighteenth birthday. But the auction isn’t the only danger. Though she’s never seen them, she knows monsters live outside the city. These creatures have allowed the humans a small area to inhabit with the promise to leave them in peace as long as they never cross the boundary. On the day Belle is sold, one of the monsters breaks that promise and enters the city, intent on having her as his own.
**This book is intended for an adult audience and contains master/slave, multiple partners, girl on girl, alien sex, and oral play.**
You can find out more about Kitty Thomas by visiting her blog here.
Enjoy the rest of your reading, and don’t forget to Click here to check out the other amazing authors participating in the A to Z Blog Hop going on all through June! 🙂