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Bdsm Quotes

“In the world of animals, pain serves an equivocal role. Parental nips and swipes are common tools in upbringing. And socially, pain is sometimes used to maintain hierarchies of dominance. But this animal use of pain seems somewhat restrained, at least in contrast with the human situation. Here the capacity for pain is often used to systematically exploit and oppress at intensities often far beyond those seen in the behaviour of our nearest primate relatives. At the same time, at least in western culture, pain is rarely used for pleasure. Is it little wonder that all pain is viewed as intrinsically evil? Or that the pain-pleasure of leatherspace has been labelled torture?”

“Ne znam za vas, ali meni već dugo za rukom ne polazi da pronađem izvor žudnje. Ne, ne mislim na žudnju za bolom ili žudnju za mučenjem – one su me samo podstakle da se pitam odakle žudnja kao takva. Šta je to što u nama pali i razgoreva vatru? Zašto nam je toliko teško da pronađemo čime ćemo je ugasiti? I kad to otkrijemo – i kad je ugasimo – kako to da u pepelu uvek ima iskri koje i dalje tinjaju i koje će nas, kad-tad, ponovo zapaliti? Odričemo se svega, pa i sebe, samo da bismo nakratko utolili tu glupu glad, utažili tu upornu žeđ... Čemu to? Čemu žudnja? Ko bi to znao? I onda sam se probudio sa odgovorom. Žudnja je tu da bismo mogli da plačemo za zadovoljstvom i posredstvom zadovoljstva je dospela u svet... A zadovoljstvo je tu da ne bismo presvisli od bola i od patnje, čiji potpisi stoje na tapiji sveta.”

“But fear is part of your game, isn't it?" I look at him. "The fear that you might hurt me. That you might actually use that thing on me." I glance at the billy club, lying a few feet away, and I shudder. "Did it not excite you, just a little?" He smiles and I see the gleam of cruelty beneath the surface of those dark eyes. "You wouldn't really use it on me, would you?" "That is the mystery, is it not? How far will I go? Will I use the whip too savagely and tear your beautiful back? You do not know. You cannot predict what I will do next." He slides his fingers down my cheek. "Danger is intoxicating, Ava. So is pain. I give you only as much as you want. As much as you can bear." "I don't know what I can bear." "This we shall learn.”

“A philosophical discussion ensued about right and wrong, and good and bad. Also about things to be ashamed of and things to be feel guilty about. Could anything carried out between two consensual adults be wrong? And why should they be embarrassed by something a loving partner wanted to try? Right then they made a pact to never lie to each other, and to live out their sexual fantasies together. If two intelligent, loving and happily married people couldn't be honest with each other about their most hidden sexual desires, then who could?”

“What are you saying?” “I want to try.” He wanted clarification on that. “You want to try what?” There it was, that deep flush. “You know.” Yes, he knew, but he wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easily. She was going to be his. For a brief time, she would belong to him and he would have everything he wanted, and he wanted her to start talking dirty. Yes. He wanted to teach her, to train her to accept pleasure so she would expect it. “No, I don’t know. You’ll have to be plain.” Avery blushed a little. “I want to be intimate with you.” So sweet. So polite. So not happening. “That sounds like you want me to get into my pajamas and exchange secrets with you. I’m not your girlfriend, Avery. Tell me what you want. That’s lesson number one. Communication and honesty are the keys to the relationship I want. I need to hear you say plainly what you want.” She hesitated, but only for a moment. He wasn’t surprised. Deep in her heart, she was a brave girl. She’d faced so much and still was open with her heart. Damn, but he didn’t understand that. “I would like for us to sleep together.” “I’m not very sleepy.” He wasn’t going to let her get away with anything. She groaned a little in obvious frustration. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.” “Yes. I do. So say what you want.” “I want to have sex.” “So clinical. I’ll have to think about that.” “I want to make love.” “Sweet, but not what I’m looking for.” Her face crinkled into the cutest pout. “Damn it, Lee. I want to fuck.” Just like that he was primed and ready. She’d said fuck with such a sweet little heat, her eyebrows forming a V over her face as though the entire incident had offended her polite sensibilities. She would learn there wasn’t room for politeness between them. He growled just a little. “I want to fuck, too, baby. I want to fuck all night long.”

“The Bible with masculine domination in the Old Testament and feminine submission in the New Testament is a BDSM manual! However, its BDSM lessons have never been properly learned and implemented. Christianity only makes sense in a dungeon and torture chamber. To convert Christians, you need to give them an even more thrilling BDSM experience!”

“Does this mean you’re going to make love to me tonight, Christian?” Holy shit. Did I just say that? His mouth drops open slightly, but he recovers quickly. “No, Anastasia it doesn’t. Firstly, I don’t make love. I fuck… hard. Secondly, there’s a lot more paperwork to do, and thirdly, you don’t yet know what you’re in for. You could still run for the hills. Come, I want to show you my playroom.” My mouth drops open. Fuck hard! Holy shit, that sounds so… hot. But why are we looking at a playroom? I am mystified. “You want to play on your Xbox?” I ask. He laughs, loudly. “No, Anastasia, no Xbox, no Playstation. Come.”… Producing a key from his pocket, he unlocks yet another door and takes a deep breath. “You can leave anytime. The helicopter is on stand-by to take you whenever you want to go, you can stay the night and go home in the morning. It’s fine whatever you decide.” “Just open the damn door, Christian.” He opens the door and stands back to let me in. I gaze at him once more. I so want to know what’s in here. Taking a deep breath I walk in. And it feels like I’ve time-traveled back to the sixteenth century and the Spanish Inquisition. Holy fuck.”

“When the power of the shift rips the human body apart and transforms it into its new shape, there lives a second, less than a second, a mere shimmer of time when the mind is without a home, no body to call its own. Existence is painless in there, nothing but formlessness beyond understanding. A secret place, it contains nothing but the essence of self, a lost self. In the fire of pain, Colton found a whisper of that place, its ghost, its echo, and from that echo he withdrew a thread of deepest black.”

“Odavno znam da nema pogrešnih osećanja, ali sad znam da je bol jedini stvaran i da je bol, jebiga – da je bol prag koji treba da se pređe, da bi se sišlo u suštinu, u srž života, pa i dublje od toga. Nismo predodređeni ni za šta drugo, ali najveći broj ljudi ne ide dalje. Poseku se i na posekotinu nalepe flaster. Neće u ranu nabiti čiodu i kopati po njoj, nego će popiti Panadol, Brufen, Aspirin. Što dalje od shvatanja da je posle bola skoro beskorisno doživeti bilo šta drugo...!”

“„Vidiš, prihvatiš li bol – uživala u njemu ili ne – podstičeš kontrolu nad telom. Budi se potreba da bolom, pa i samom sobom, u svakom smislu ovladaš.” „Mišel Fuko bi to verovatno nazvao vidom samodiscipline”, rekao sam, „jer je pokoreni u isto vreme i onaj koji disciplinuje i onaj koji se disciplinuje – pa i posredno, putem pristanka da bude disciplinovan.” „Zar nije zanimljivo to što nam, za ma kakav značajan preobražaj, treba nekakav pokretač?”, rekla je Valerija. „Pokretanje nekog procesa je neminovno za promenu... Međutim, to i nema nekog smisla kad se shvati da je čitav život neprekidan proces promene.” „Da, ali čovek to i ne doživljava baš tako”, rekla je Irina. „Zato mu je potrebna zamisao o tom – pokretaču.”

“Posed In Vein by Stewart Stafford O Stephanie! In your cruciform puppetry, Bloody veins stretched out wiry To relive in a bondage diary. Subject mapped as inked skin she wears, Decorating, desecrating olden snares. Each needle kiss, a line defined, A pinprick story rushes her mind. By candlelight, in her coven deep, Secrets webbed flies must keep, Spelled out straight in her hexing book, Consort Lenore gives a cryptic look. They tug the strings, the marionette, Caught in her captor's welcome net. In artificial light, a social moth's mien, A wrought, posed, fetishistic scene. The knots are tight, the ropes defined; Bodily and in private mind. This mutual art, a supplicant's plea, Cut into her Kinbaku diary. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

“The experience of pleasant pain is familiar to many, perhaps most, people. (Not you? Think again: ever enjoyed the pleasant muscle ache of a good day's exercise, or the challenging burn of a spicy curry?) Many more, although they may not be consciously aware of it, also have some experience with erotically arousing pain: biting, scratching, pinching, mild hair-pulling and hickeys have an honored place in many folks' sexual repertoire. If seeking out and/or eroticizing pain is sick, then it's a sickness about as rare as the common cold.”

“He moves suddenly so that his hand is cupping my sex, and one of his fingers sinks slowly into me. His other arm holds me firmly in place around my waist. “This is mine,” he whispers aggressively. “All mine. Do you understand?” He eases his finger in and out as he gazes down at me, gauging my reaction, his eyes burning. “Yes, yours…” Abruptly, he moves, doing several things at once: Withdrawing his fingers, leaving me wanting, unzipping his fly, and pushing me down onto the couch so he’s lying on top of me. “Hands on your head,” he commands through gritted teeth as he kneels up, forcing my legs wider… “We don’t have long. This will be quick, and it’s for me, not you. Do you understand? Don’t come, or I will spank you,” he says through clenched teeth.”

“There is a glimmer of metal that wavers between his thighs. He turns to face me. The balls of his large gauge nipple rings catch my eye as they glint in the light of the room. But, it is the tintinabular rings below that cause my eyes to descend to his shining metallic beacon of love. I feel my jaw slightly drop open and a small puff of air escapes over my lips. I am wildly transfixed. What is that? What will he do with it? I nervously wonder without a solution. He moves toward me with the sound of pockets full of change, and I know my life will never be the same.”