An Ode to the Belt

An Ode to the Belt

I’ve always had a soft spot for DIY kink.  Whilst I adore my tools of the trade (and I have plenty of them), there’s really nothing quite like a spontaneous foray into exquisite sensation.  I love the urgency, the immediacy, the desperation to lay your hands on just about anything nearby in order to restrain and punish your submissive.  A silk tie pulled from your neck, a hairbrush hurriedly grabbed from the dresser.  Patient, well-planned, well-tooled-up kink is a beautiful thing, but sometimes all I want is for my submission to be needed so intensely that it’s taken from me in any way possible.

Enter the belt.  My #1 favourite implement.

My love affair with the belt began with my first ever D/s relationship.  During one session, my dominant stood before me and asked me to take off his belt. With trembling fingers I fumbled with the clasp, my eyes trained on his as he watched me.  I had never been belted before.   I was genuinely scared, but I wanted it more than anything. I slowly trailed the soft leather from the loops of his smart trousers and held it out to him on open palms, whimpering already.  He proceeded to fold it into a loop, hold me down by my neck and beat me until I was floating so gloriously I never wanted to come back down to earth.

This first experience was calculated, but subsequent beltings have often been spontaneous.  I’ve found myself becoming disobedient on purpose, just to have a chance at watching my lovers’ eyes flare, knowing that he might be encouraged to hastily take off his belt and put me over his knee.  This has backfired on me more than once, as you can imagine, and I have (mostly) since learned to ask nicely if I wish to take the belt.

As a Domme, the belt becomes even more poignant.  I feel so girlishly cruel when I flash a sweet smile and ask my submissive to remove his belt, knowing that after our session, he will go back out into the world with the memories of the leather he wears every day being wrapped around his neck, or brought down upon his backside.  Every time he sees it over the back of the chair in his home, he will think of the fire in my eyes when I was moved to beat him with such urgency.  When he is alone, he will quietly slip it around his neck again, close his eyes, and remember.

BDSM is often characterised by implements, toys and restraints. For me, Domination – whether I’m submitting to you, or you to me – is all about the cerebral, the creative, about holding the space and using things around you in order to assert your authority.  Toys can be a lot of fun, but don’t believe for a second that any of it is necessary.

(Image: Myself and the exquisite Jessa Jones)


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