Z is for Zen, or Flying High in Subspace


What is subspace?

The best description of subspace that I have yet read can be found on the blog BDSM: Things You Need To Know. Will describes two distinct kinds of subspace: Physiological and Psychological. Now, I’m not going to recount either here, since that would be plagiarism and Homey don’t play that.

Wow, how's that for a blast from the past?

Wow, how’s that for a blast from the past?

I do, however, encourage you to pop over to Will’s blog and just read through the article. No, no. Take your time. I’ll wait.

Back already?

I have experienced physiological subspace only a handful of times and never during a real punishment. Don’t ask me why. I honestly don’t know. Maybe it’s because I simply don’t let myself go there when it’s real. Every time that it’s happened to me, it’s been during very intense scenes that were also little more than fun and games. I was relaxed. I was with someone I knew and liked. And I can honestly tell you, there is no experience quite like it. “Flying” is actually a pretty good description of what it feels like. “Floating” is another. I remember flushes of prickling in my skin, heat and sweat and the loud sound of my own breathing. After that, although I never lost consciousness, everything gets a little hazy.

I was on the cross and I know my hands started shaking. The Dom in control of the scene called it because he saw that tremble and thought my body was going into shock. What I had failed to tell him was that my hands intermittently shake. It’s like a nervous tick that comes and goes, a genetic condition passed down from my father and which looks a little like Parkinson’s, except that it’s not Parkinson’s, it’s completely harmless and it’s only in my hands. I’ve been told the name, but I’ve forgotten what it is now.

Anyway, I don’t remember being untied although I was awake and aware the whole time. I vaguely remember being led out of the main dungeon and into the aftercare room. What I remember about that scene was afterwards, lying on a bed of cushions on the floor, being hugged tight by my Dom…

Because this is what I ask for whenever I am asked, "What kind of aftercare do you want?" I want a hug. I just need to know I'm okay once it's over. It sounds really, really silly every time I vocalize it, but when I'm broken down to that level of vulnerability, that's what I need the most: just to know I'm okay.

Because this is what I ask for whenever I am asked, “What kind of aftercare do you want?” I want a hug. I just need to know I’m okay once it’s over. It sounds really, really silly every time I vocalize it, but when I’m broken down to that level of vulnerability, that’s what I need the most: just to know I’m okay.

…while he told me how arousing he found my tears. My husband sat at the foot of the bed, his hand stroking my leg, just keeping track of the situation until I came back to a mental state in which I could be rational again.

Here’s something you may or may not know about subspace: Although it is a fabulous place to be when you are completely lost in a scene, you cannot and should not make a decision regarding your own well-being while you are there or even when you’re fresh out of being there. You have a serious potential of being your own worst enemy while you are in that extremely vulnerable state. You may say you’re fine every time your Dom comes back to check on your progress (which a good Dom will do and do often, especially if he hasn’t scened with you before), when physically you ought to think about calling the scene. All negotiations should be done before the scene, but inexperienced or even predatory Doms may try to negotiate something further with you at this point, and when you are this vulnerable and all you can think about it serving and pleasing the person you are with, you might easily agree to do something you never in a million years would have wanted to do–blood play, cutting, piercing, water/scat activities, sexual exchanges, or even leaving the safety and security of the play space to continue on in private.

Yeah, I'm using this pic again. Be. Careful!

Yeah, I’m using this pic again. Be. Careful!

Anytime subspace may be involved, take steps to protect yourself.

1.) I cannot stress how important it is to pay attention to your spidey senses when negotiating a scene at a play party. 99.9% of the people you meet at those events are good, decent folk just looking to find someone with whom to get their kink on. But there’s a lot of novices out there, whose introduction to the freaky side of themselves was 50 Shades of Grey and who are just learning the ropes (so to speak). There’s also that .1% who wouldn’t think anything at all about taking advantage of an easy ‘Yes’ if they notice you aren’t flying at full capacity.

2.) Have someone standing by to watch out for you, to call the scene if need be and/or to make sure no further negotiations are made while you are in this fragile state. Someone who has no problem being a badass and saying no for you or even to you. Someone like…


Damn straight!

My play group is the best thing that’s ever happen to me. It’s my home away from home. I can’t imagine being a member anywhere else. I’m there every two weeks and once I leave, I can’t wait to go back again. I’ve been around long enough and have heard enough stories to realize not all places are like mine, but just because it’s different doesn’t make it bad. Just remember: Safe, Sane and Consensual. It is not your right to have those things; it is your obligation to ensure that you do.

This concludes my participation in the A to Z blog hop.

naughty ass weekend

Or week. Whichever the case may be. 🙂

I’m getting down off my soapbox now and I sincerely hope I’ve given you glimpses into aspects of this you may not have seen or thought of before, and I really hope you’ve discovered at least one new and interesting author.

I really, really had to search to find a good literary description of a bottom entering subspace due to an intense scene. This one comes from Kathryn R. Blake and is from her book ‘A Dom’s Dilemma’.

When she gave a small sob, he stroked her hair again to calm her and she responded by taking in a stuttering breath. He didn’t press her for the words, since she needed to find the strength within herself to endure this. Internal fortitude was not something he could provide for here. After a moment, less than thirty seconds later, she said a little tearfully, “I humbly beg you, my Master, to show me the error of my ways with your fair and impartial correction. I am most thankful you have shown me the care of your experience, and I gratefully wait for you to begin my punishment.”

With a nod, Jim raised his hand and brought the paddle down hard and called ‘One.’ No way did he expect her to try to keep count through this. Kelly immediately tried to block her cry with her hands.

“Hands,” he reminded calling ‘Two’ as the blow struck. She gave a soft grunt of pain, but managed to keep her hands in place this time. “Good girl,” he praised. “That’s the level of discomfort you should expect throughout this exercise. I’m now gonna try to establish a rhythm where each stroke is even and measured against the last, and I want you to let everythin’ go. Don’t try to fight the pain or attempt to escape it, just go wherever it takes you. You do not have to count, I’ll do that for you.”

“Now, take a deep breath and relax,” he ordered, and was pleased when she obeyed, then he worked out a tempo: smack, number, smack, number, smack, number. He did this to help her to anticipate and accept without resisting. The pain was coming anyway, she could do nothing to stop it, and so she needed to give herself over to it.

She gave a small jerk and made soft grunts of protest with the first few strokes, then fell into the rhythm with him for about the next twenty-five strokes. At twenty-six she let out a gasp. Realizing she was trying to hold here breath, he added breathing instructions with his strokes. “Breath in, smack, breathe out, number. Breathe in, smack, breathe out, number.” This got her through the next fifteen or so.

Jim wasn’t sure what changed at stroke fifty-one, but every muscle in Kelly’s body tensed. So, he stopped and gave her breathing instructions for a moment. “Relax, breathe in, breathe out, relax. You’re doin’ really good, and we are more than halfway through. He ran his hands through here hair. Though she was handling it well, she was also heavily perspiring, which meant she’d been working on muscle control throughout. That took a lot of energy and concentration.

“Do you need water?” he asked, taking her pulse.

“No, Sir,” she answered and her voice sounded constrained. He ran a hand along her back checking for any muscles she might be tensing. Her shoulders felt unusually taut, a sign she was struggling to master the pain by holding herself under tight restraint. He chided himself for not recognizing it sooner. Her stomach hadn’t felt tense to him so he discounted her back given the position of her arms.

He rubbed the tightly held muscles and heard her give a small sob. No doubt they had cramped up on her and his massage was painful. She hadn’t been making much sound at all. Her backside glowed a bright red now, but no sign of purple, though he suspected it would be black and blue and swollen before they’d finished.

When she let out another sob, he shushed her. “Shhh. Relax and breathe through it, Kelly. Try not to tighten up. I’m very proud of the way you’re handlin’ this. I know it’s not easy to lie there and accept the pain, but you’re doin’ a beautiful job of it.”

She gave a tiny sigh at his few words of praise and relaxed. He ran his fingers over her entire body with a smooth motion, making sure even her leg muscles, ankles and feet remained as loose as possible. She knew how to control her breathing enough to breathe through the pain, and he was impressed by her level of stoicism. She was clearly not a novice at handling deep pain. He didn’t think Kyle had ever punished her this strenuously, but obviously someone had. These techniques were only learned through experience.

Another thing that impressed as well as humbled Jim was the trust she had given him with her submission. The way she lay so still and accepting of what he did without any protest, showed she trusted him not to take her beyond the point of what would be a tolerable agony for her. Yes he was hurting her, but he wasn’t being cruel or brutal about it, merely methodical.

After a minute of thoroughly checking her, she took another breathe, then said, “Thank you, Master, for being so patient with me.”

Though she didn’t say it directly, her words meant she was ready to continue. Whether they began again or not was his decision, but he wouldn’t belittle her courage, despite his own misgivings. He checked her one more time and couldn’t find a reason to call a halt to the punishment other than the redness of her buttocks, which was expected. So lifting the paddle, he said, “We begin again at fifty-two. Breathe in,” he ordered bringing down the implement. “Breathe out, fifty-two.”

She let out a few grunts and whimpers for the first couple of strokes until she grew accustomed to the pain again. She had been a real screamer yesterday, but today she accepted a far more severe punishment in a calm, reserved manner. He knew she was hurting, by the way the flesh on her buttocks began to get darker with each stroke, yet she made no effort to resist.

As he counted and instructed her to breathe, he occasionally ran his left hand over her back and shoulders, but could tell this distracted her, so he tried to monitor here visually. Though her eyes were closed, her forehead stayed slightly wrinkled so she still felt the pain, she just wasn’t fighting it. Then at sixty she went completely limp and he suspected she’d gone into subspace. She had to trust him with her life to do that. After checking to make sure she hadn’t simply passed out, he took care not to alter his words, or the pattern of his strokes, hoping she would fly for a bit.

Gratefully, she stayed in subspace through to the end. When he called seventy-five, breath out, she remained still. He placed the paddle down and checked her pulse. Her eyes were closed and her forehead smooth. Momentarily oblivious to her surroundings, she was flying high.


Kinky happenings in rural New England.

James Evans has been a police detective for sixteen years and an active participant in the local BDSM scene for even longer. So, at age 35, he knows what he likes, and for the last three years, he’s liked what he’s seen in Kelly Franklin. Pretty, feisty and submissive, the fact that she scurries off like a frightened rabbit every time she sees him, only intrigues him more. He would have pressed a lot harder to corner her, if she didn’t already belong to someone else. That is why, when Kyle Sinclair mentions he’s looking for a new Dom to top Kelly, Jim doesn’t hesitate to sign up for the job.

Taking his cues from Kelly, Jim quickly discovers she isn’t seeking pain and punishment the way Kyle thought. In fact, all of Kelly’s signals indicate she is scared of pain, which both puzzles Jim and brings his protective side to the fore. Why would a girl want to be a submissive at a BDSM club if she fears how a Dom might punish her?

As a Dom, Jim is pleased by Kelly’s open responsiveness, but as a police detective, he is determined to solve the enigma she presents. Their relationship grows even more complicated when he discovers Kelly has not only been keeping secrets from him, she has lied, and neither side of him tolerates any type of deception–ever. A point he is more than willing to make with Kelly draped butt-naked over his knee for a spanking until she finally tells him the truth.

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! 🙂

One thought on “Z is for Zen, or Flying High in Subspace

  1. I’ve enjoyed every single post you’ve written for this challenge. Your sense of humor truly just shines and I appreciate your openness. And you did it all during a move!! I’ll just say, you’re cool!! 🙂 Thanks very much.

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