#(in case i accidentally hit post early and didn't notice)

[monarch-boo]

Hey @jesse-png ! I was your art buddy for this @gtavfest ! I hope you like this and you have a great day this Valentine's Day!

The prompt wasssss "Both visibly tattered, Niko and Packie sharing some secret kisses in the middle of a heist/mission from the sidelines.”

[authenticleviackerman]

No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai and how the book helped improve my life.

Despite the controversy and even banning of No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai in some parts of the world as I have come to learn, it has to be one of my favourite books. The disconnect from the world, society and people hit very close to home, and it was ultimately the book which made me realize that despite what people have told me ("You're such a smiley person though", and "You have too much energy to be depressed" etc.) is just not what makes a person depressed or not.

I think that this book is a perfect gateway into the concept of mental illness. I'd like to tell you a little story. Keep in mind I don't really consider myself a writer, I'm just an insomniac who is self taught in English and has nothing to do at 4 am.

I, like Yozo, learned to fake a smile. As a child I was always talkative and loved books. I learned to speak fairly early (at about 6 months of age) and always flipped through books for hours despite it not being typical for kids with my diagnosis (cerebral palsy).

I was always a child who was very afraid of something I couldn't even name. Slight change of voice made me cry, no matter what the context. I could meet my grandma's friend and I didn't greet them (because I didn't know you were supposed to greet them yet) and after my grandma told me, I started crying because I thought I made her mad.

This never improved, even after I had entered school. In fact, it got worse. I was not yet aware of anything until the first day in 1st grade, when my teacher greeted everyone formally but me, leading to confusion and so I accidentally greeted her in an informal way as well. This of course, has led to embarrassment.

I soon got an assistant who was supposed to help me learn. I never had an intellectual disability of any kind, although I couldn't really focus on schoolwork and wanted to play instead, so her role was to be like an" at home teacher" and someone to look after me when my parents were busy.

She had worked with disabled people in the past so my mom naturally thought nothing could go wrong, and for a short while it didn't until about 5th grade when things started getting worse, but that's a whole another chapter.

Long story short, for 10 years, she mentally abused me, putting me down whenever some of my weaknesses showed, totally ignoring the fact that I had learned how to speak English (in my case a foreign language) completely on my own.

That made me think I was now fundamentally broken, leading to severe self hate while I still put a smile on my face, because depression and anxiety in media are usually showed in the most severe cases, so I couldn't be ill. I'm just an idiot.

I started writing poetry (which I now inconsistently post on my Instagram but I am afraid to do so as I fear that if my mom's friends noticed it being too dark, they would tell my mom who could scold me for it so I haven't put anything out there in a while. Besides, they pretty much ruined the tags) which did get some small audience (I got one of my favourite musician's wife to follow me there) but my brain makes me give up on things because I feel like there was no point in it, which was a frequent theme described in no longer human and his other books.

For years and despite my mom literally asking me to stop crying all the time, not one teacher or professional suggested therapy. I was just told to "grow up already" or laughed in the face by my assistant (who caused me to develop PTSD like symptoms), so I had to beg my mom to bring me in repeatedly.

Thankfully, bringing the book up in therapy this summer got me on antidepressants, (which, again , I thought I don't need because in my brain I wasn't "sick enough") and now my mom is aware that I am fighting my own brain, so she isn't frustrated with me when I cry.

That is what I'd like to say, but unfortunately it was a bit too late and I learned to numb down my emotions because I'm afraid of being shamed. The only people who see me cry are my therapist and psychiatrist who saw through the (very believable) fake smile, and people who I truly trust.

The antidepressants definitely worked though, and I believe if Dazai lived in an age where antidepressants existed and mental health wasn't stigmatized, he would feel at least a little better.

I hope I manage to feel human one day.

[howtofightwrite]

I noticed that a lot of your questions deal with how fast you can kill a person, but if you're in the middle of a fight, it seems like the more salient question is with what speed you can disable your attacker so that they stop attacking you. So...if you were armed with some kind of blade, you really knew what you were doing, and you were the one to attack first, how long would that take? Seconds? Minutes? Thanks!

Fractions of a second. We've said it before, but knives really excel as ambush weapons. Their size makes them easy to conceal, but also allows for speed. In the hands of the skilled, knives are frighteningly lethal.

The ability for a knife fighter to, “go first,” means there is no fight. In fact, a practiced knife fighter can reliably end their target before their opponent has even realized something is amiss (assuming the knife fighter didn't, accidentally, tip them off beforehand.)

From an anatomy standpoint, there are so many places you can put a knife that will result in a lethal bleed. In most cases, the victim will have time to realize what's happened after the fact, but they'll already be mortally wounded.

Knife combat gets a bit more complicated against an aware opponent. Even then, we're talking about a fight that will last seconds at most. Knife wounds have a cumulative effect on the victim, and it's very difficult (unless you're wearing armor) to avoid taking stray cuts while defending against a blade. There are ways to neutralize and potentially capture your opponent's blade, but this is some really advanced stuff. In most circumstances, it won't apply.

If you know your anatomy, and know how to use a knife, they are very efficient tools for dropping someone.

Now, on the question of how long it will take them to bleed to death, that can easily stretch into the minutes, especially with, “less vital,” strikes. It will vary based on exactly what the knife damaged. But, they're likely already neutralized by that point, and in no condition to continue fighting. If eliminating the victim in a shorter time frame is really that critical, the knife fighter can follow up with an additional strike.

Also, worth knowing the repeated flurry of strikes, (IE: someone getting stabbed 20 or 30 times) isn't going to be the product of a professional. That's more in the range of someone who's very, “emotionally engaged,” with what they're doing, or doesn't know what they're doing and is hoping to hit something important on the way through. Unfortunately for the victim, this kind of mass hit pattern does tend to yield pretty decent results. Even if none of the strikes are individually fatal, the sheer volume tends to result in fatal blood loss.

That said, if someone doesn't know their A&P, stab wounds tend to be pretty survivable. You've got a better than 90% chance of surviving if you're stabbed by an idiot, and are able to get medical attention. So, while talking up knives a minute ago, it is important to remember that this is only in the hands of someone who knows what they're doing.

The short version of your question is, less than a second; knife fights are stupid fast.

-Starke

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[trans-axolotl]

Okay so I'm going to preface this by saying you've answered a very similar question once in the past, but I'm asking again myself because I feel a lot more comfortable getting my own answer ya know what I mean? It's also very long so I'm very sorry about that.

So I think I may be intersex, specifically I think I have NCAH. I saw it mentioned once on a post about intersex conditions and looked it up because I didn't know what it was, and upon reading more about it a lot of things started making sense?

The biggest thing for me was that within the past few months my voice has gotten significantly deeper and I'm not on testosterone. I couldn't figure out what caused it, I thought maybe I just like accidentally did voice training type stuff? But it would make a lot more sense if it was caused by NCAH. I mean I sound like I'm a few months on testosterone. It's a really noticeable difference.

But of course I wouldn't be coming to you if that was the only symptom that matched up.

The next one that made me kinda suspicious is that I'm definitely more hairy than the average afab person. I used to shave my whole entire body as a teen because I was so self conscious about it. But now that I've stopped I'm like, very hairy. Enough that I've had hairy women comment on it in solidarity. The place this is most noticeable is on my legs, but the little pubescent boy mustache I've got going on is definitely a close second. I was also quite tall for an a fab child, but when I hit 13 I capped out at 5'4" and just stopped growing forever.

I can't really remember if I got pubic hair early, but I know my periods came in a bit later than the girls in my grade and they were irregular enough that I once had a pregnancy scare because my period was so late. I've also read from a few different sources that NCAH can cause frequent dehydration? Because some of the hormones affected are ones that are supposed to regulate your sodium and potassium levels. And gee I definitely have that one. I had to buy these little pedialyte drink additives because just drinking a bunch of water wasn't helping.

So that's basically my case for why I think I have NCAH. Now for the actual like, question part.

I do intend to go get tested. I know that there are tests for NCAH and I definitely want to get those done to be sure. But until then (because I don't know when I'll be able to actually do that) is it okay for me to identify as intersex? I've been reading up on the experiences of other people who have NCAH and I find myself relating to so many of them. I've read and re-read and re-re-read all the sources I can find about NCAH. I have a track record of correctly self diagnosing various things so I think I trust my judgement enough to feel comfortable calling myself intersex before getting it confirmed. I just don't want to intrude on a community that I'm not 100% absolutely sure I'm a part of. Intersex people already get treated so poorly, and as a trans man I don't want to just turn out to be another perisex trans person that thought they were ~special~ or something (because I have seen perisex trans people say all kinds of shit about "wishing they were intersex" and that shit is awful). I just want to be as respectful as possible during all this, but god it feels like I've finally found a missing piece of the puzzle. Like this little lingering question in the back of my mind has finally been answered.

Anyway, thank you for running your blog and helping people learn about intersex experiences. You're really doing something so important and I'm sure so many people appreciate you. I hope you're having a good day/night/whatever it is where you are! Thank you again!

hey anon!

So first off, I want to say that I agree that it definitely sounds like it could be possible that you have NCAH. It sounds like you have a lot of symptoms of hyperandrogenism. The thing you mentioned about dehydration is definitely more significant in people with salt-wasting CAH who will go into adrenal crisis, but I wouldn't be suprised if that is also showing up in a milder way for us with NCAH.

On to your second question:

I'm not in charge of who gets to identify as intersex, or of deciding when have done enough research to self diagnose. What I can say is that I'm glad that reading and learning about intersex topics has made you feel validated and seen. I think that with your experiences, it would be okay for you to seek out intersex spaces that are welcoming of people who are self diagnosed or questioning (message me off anon if you want a link to the intersex discord server I mod). It is perfectly fine for you to be honest about where you are in your journey and tell people that you are pretty confident that you have NCAH and are intersex, and leave it up to individual intersex spaces that you would want to join about whether they are comfortable having you there. I think that there are a lot of ways that you can start to participate in intersex community without having a professional diagnosis, and I feel like the best approach is usually to just be honest about where you are in your own discovery. You can celebrate intersex awareness day, and join open intersex spaces, and follow intersex creators, or create art with the intersex pride colors, or many other different things that don't require you to have a professional diagnosis.

Intersex community is generally pretty welcoming to people who are questioning, or intersex adjacent, or who has a complicated diagnosis story. What we are wary of is the fact that there is a long pattern of people, especially trans people, faking being intersex when they know for a fact they are dyadic. It sounds like you're aware of that history, and I appreciate how you are trying to be considerate. And truthfully, some people in some spaces might react badly if you went into those spaces and said you were intersex and they later found out that you didn't have a professional diagnosis, because of the way that intersex people have learned to be wary about fakers entering our spaces. (I don't necessarily agree with that reaction or their approach to diagnosis, but I think that you should know that this is how some intersex people believe.) But honestly, I think you could avoid getting that reaction by just being honest upfront and explaining that you think you are intersex, you're in the process of getting diagnosed, but you don't know for sure.

That being said, I don't think that you owe it to other people to explain all your medical details or your personal story anytime someone asks. I don't think there's a huge problem with you saying that you're intersex if you're talking to an acquaintance, or a dyadic person who doesn't really need to know, or a casual intersex person you meet, or really any situation where it's not an intersex person who you're actually sharing community spaces and building a long term relationship with. You don't owe it to people to share all your medical records or life experiences just because they're curious, and you don't need to go around explaining everything to people who aren't in your life in a long term way. I just think that if you're going to be in intersex spaces, building solidarity, supporting other intersex people, speaking authentically about where you are in your own experience and really listening to other intersex people is the best way to go.

TLDR: I can't tell you what you can or can't do, and what feels right to you is probably the best way to go. There's probably nothing wrong with you casually mentioning that you're intersex in situations where you don't want to share your medical story, but when you're entering intersex spaces, it might be a good idea to share that you're intersex questioning and find spaces that will embrace you.

Other intersex people, if you want to add on with your own thoughts, please feel free!

[junicai]

spinning.

| summary | sometimes, its just easier to move on to a new thing - rather than hold onto the old.

| word count | 2.6k

| warnings | none

| era: | pre-debut, circa. 2013 through 2016

2013. 

There is nothing in the world that can compare to the feeling of skating across clean ice. A smooth sheet, unmarred by skates belonging to those who have yet to wake up in the early hours of the morning. 

Not when it’s just you, the blades beneath your feet and the soft sounds that come with the ice being carved out - lines being embedded into the sheet of ice as you twirl across it. Painting pictures without the paint, gliding over the frozen lakes. 

It’s indescribable. The feeling of freedom, the feeling of flying. But that doesn’t mean Aria is going to stop trying to describe it to as many people as she can.

The most common question she is asked in an interview, either post or pre skate, is “why do you do what you do?” or “why do you love skating?” or “where does your motivation come from?” All the same question essentially, in different words and different fonts, with the same over-eager expression that Aria has come to know as one that is plastered on when the interviewer really couldn’t give less of a damn about the answer. 

They would swarm you at the edge of the rink, hungry and eager for a good piece, almost falling over each other in their desperation to catch her slip up on her words. Just because she was a child, doesn’t mean they weren’t ready prepared to destroy her on the front pages. 

Either way, Aria never had a solid answer for them.

Why did she do what she did? Her parents enrolled her in lessons as a child, you could say she just stuck with it. You could say that she found her niche early on, that she was blessed to have found what it is she loves at a young age. You could say that she was a prodigy in the making, you could say that she was advanced for her age, that she was sweeping competitions with skaters nearly twicer her age. You could say a lot of things, but that didn’t necessarily make them true. 

Skating was, all she knew. 

She had to love it.

Her life revolved around the carefully regimented training schedule, around meets and competitions that involved too many airplanes and too many sickbags and too many sprained wrists, ankles, knees; not enough schooling and not enough friends. 

Aria could her her coach’s voice calling out from across the rink. 

“Back leg! Straighten it out!” 

She straightened it out. 

Aria could feel the eyes of her mother from across the rink. The woman had insisted on accompanying her daughter to the rink that morning, although she never usually attended Aria’s morning practices - saying that it was ungodly hours to be awake and claiming that “she was a working woman! She needed her sleep”, although never had any reservations in shoving her daughter out the door.

Today though, her mother’s piercing eyes found Aria’s from the side benches she sat on, legs crossed as well as her arms, eyes cold and calculating. She knew better than to call out her corrections - less Aria’s coach hear her - but Aria knew she’d be getting an earful back home about that leg. 

She took a breath, eyes hardening as she fixed her gaze forward.

Today marked six months since she had competed in her last competition, having taken a break from public appearances and performances, reducing her training down to twice a week instead of her regular rigid schedule. Spilling across the ice, feeling her knees weaken underneath her as she pushed up into the air before coming down far too quickly was enough to deter her from getting back onto the ice again for a while. 

Aria loved skating, she did. Truly. There was something about coming to a rink in the early morning, half the gym barely awake to take notice of the petite fourteen-year-old kneeling beside the benches to lace up her skates. 

Something about the soft sun that came whispering in through the skylight windows that dotted the ceilings, something about the silent speakers that had yet to play the summer 2012 hits because the attendee hadn’t woken up from their bed yet.

Something about skating as fast as you can, before wrapping your arms in as tightly as possible and spinning. 

As fast as a spinning top; spinning, spinning, spinning. 

She never felt like she would fall. 

Spinning, spinning, spinning.

2014.

She spun around slowly, hands and arms raised as the security officer checked the scans. A small beep sounded and the lights beside the panel the officer was standing at flashed green. Stepping out, she was cleared to go through with a wave, the teenage girl offering a nod of thanks and a small smile to the man as she moved out of the way of the next passenger and towards the moving belt across the room.

Her brightly-coloured yellow suitcase was starkly obvious against the faded black plastic of the rollers that spun as it moved down, and Aria grabbed its’ handle in her fist before bracing herself and heaving it off the just slightly-too-high to be comfortable ledge. 

Aria’s shoes scuffed against the grayed flooring as she pulled the case off the belt, and reached back up to grab the smaller - but still large enough - backpack in a similar colour to the suitcase she was now stabilizing with her other hand. The bright red sticker with the letters U.M. on it stuck out against the material.  It slid off the ledge quickly, almost smacking Aria in the face.

She huffed slightly, glaring at the plastic-covered backpack in her right fist.

“Pooh-san, you could have hurt me! I have to look like the pictures mum sent of me, or else they mightn’t let me in!” she scolded the soft yellow covered ear poking out of the partially unzipped bag. It bounced slightly as Aria proceeded to swing the backpack onto her shoulder, tugging down on the strap with her hand.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her head. “Don’t you go losing that bag now! It has all your details in it for when you land - you show those bits of paper to the lady who’ll be picking you up in the airport, alright?”

A small squeeze to the bottom of the bag made the papers rustle slightly, and Aria relaxed minutely at the knowledge that they hadn’t suddenly gone missing. The rattle that followed the shifting paper popped another stark reminder into her mind. 

Still standing off to one side of the security line, Aria pulled the backpack down off her back again, opening the zip and carefully pushing Pooh-san to the side before dipping her hand in and closing her fingers around a small pink velour sachet.  

She pulled it out, and tucked it carefully into the front pocket of the hoodie she was wearing - nestled beside her passport and the few bank notes she had left. There had been hot chocolate offered on the flight and it had been all too easy to accept without her parents there to tell her no. 

Aria inhaled a deep breath, letting her shoulders come up to her ears before exhaling sharply and dropping them down.

“Okay,” she mumbled to herself, her grip tightening on her suitcase handle. “Okay.”

Not looking back, she began walking towards the exit that would lead her into the main section of the airport terminal, following all the light blue signs and their arrows pointing “arrivals”. Aria kept her head down moving in between people walking slower, apologizing when she accidentally hit a tall man with the wheels on her case and subsequently opting to push the case in front of her instead of tugging it behind. 

Leaving behind everything that she knew was daunting; her friends, her home. Everyone she'd ever known was about to be replaced with a dozen or so trainees - all years older and wiser than her.

She was going to miss home. Home, in the sense of the people that knew her inside out and back to front, who she knew the same. Even those that she didn't know at all, but knew her too well.

Aria passed a dozen shops, all with brightly coloured names and signage in an alphabet she couldn’t read, people walking both ways down a one-way corridor, noise surrounding her. Older women gave her a smile as she passed them by, offering a small wave when she smiled back. 

Walking through a final archway, Aria stepped forward into a large opened area, illuminated by the skylights that covered the entire ceiling. Large panels hung from the centre of the room, flights inbound and outbound covering both sides of the screen. People stood around at the gate, some holding up signs with names in a multitude of languages, others clinging onto the metal bar that separated the passengers from their families who waited for them.

Looking up, Aria scanned the white panels for her name. 

She spun on her heel as she searched, spinning around twice before landing on the oddly written kanji, with its slightly wobbly lines like it had been written very slowly.

Aria’s eyes trailed upwards, finding the eyes of a peaceful looking woman holding her sign and already watching her. The woman broke her serene stare with a blink, before beckoning Aria over. 

“Miyazu Akari?” 

Aria nodded, her eyes continuing their trail upwards.

There, above the woman’s head. A sign.

Incheon, International Airport. South Korea.

2014. 

Aria was spinning. 

Four counts, and a half beat. 

Her feet left the ground in a graceful arc, turning in mid air as her arms pulled themselves in, and - oh dear. She’d missed the final count. 

Aria met the ground in a heap, too rushed to try and stop her spin to slow down her movement enough for her to catch the wobble. Her hands met the wooden spring flooring, fingers crinkling as she gathered herself again. Her breath came in heavy pants, knees aching from where they had hit the floor. 

Covered in bruises hidden by the dark grey leggings, Aria’s legs shook slightly, even after righting herself and moving gingerly back over towards her starting position. She could feel the eyes of the others boring into her back, and she made an aborted apologetic bow towards their choreographer; who scoffed slightly. 

“Again. Because some people can’t count.” He gritted out between clenched teeth, walking over to stop the pounding music that had yet to halt like the rest of the girls in the practice room had. 

Aria kept her eyes on the ground, moving her mouth in time with the counts.

“One, a two, a three, a four, and, one-” she mouthed, focused on keeping her feet in time with the others as they moved through the motions again and again and again. 

By the time their choreographer called for a break, Aria was sweating through her hoodie, though still unwilling to take it off. The other trainees had no such qualms however, tugging hoodies and t-shirts over their heads to leave them in leg-hugging shorts and various colours of sports bras. Toned stomachs and steely legs were revealed, as heads were tipped back to pour water into open mouths.

Aria picked up her own water bottle to follow suit. 

The water was warmed slightly from the condensation that was beginning to gather on the mirrors and the hot, sweat-filled air that permeated the room, but Aria broke open the seal and drank thirstily regardless. She knew she only had a moment before they were called back to practice. 

“Okay girls, I think that’s enough for today.”

Or perhaps she had been mistaken. 

Nevertheless, Aria was definitely not done for the day. That final turn was going to drive her insane unless she got it down, and she’d rather not have to walk back to the practice rooms in the middle of the night just because she couldn’t sleep. 

So instead of following the others in their relieved, tired sighs and bemoans of wanting a shower, Aria opened her bag and shoved her bottle back inside. She called out to another girl as she passed. 

“Unnie, I think I might stay back for a bit. Can you tell Eunji-unnie that I’ll be late home and she shouldn’t worry?” her voice was higher pitched in Korean Aria noticed; not on purpose, but the language had a certain lilt to it that felt more comfortable in a higher register.

The woman in question send her a look, eyebrows furrowed. “That’s fine Ari-ah, but don’t stay back too long ok? We have another early practice tomorrow morning.” 

Aria winced at the reminder. “I will, unnie.”

She waved goodbye to the other girls, waiting for the last one to leave with a smile and a small wave before moving to the small sound system in the corner of the room. Aria pulled up the track again, pressing play about halfway through the song. 

Her hand came to tap out the rhythm on her thigh, eyes looking to the left but not seeing as she focused on finding the syncopated beats in the back of the song. As the section ended, Aria pulled back the track to the same part, playing it four more times before she was satisfied that she’d found the correct rhythm. 

She clicked play, before moving back to slightly off centre of the room. Counting out the opening beats, Aria pushed herself off the ground, calling out the rhythm to herself in her mind. 

The room was spinning, 

and she landed in a heap. 

2015.

Oh god the room was spinning. Her hands were shaking, Aria was pretty sure that her stomach had turned and that was a good signal that she was about to throw up and was not something to be ignored.

Yet here she was, ignoring it. 

Her wobbly hands reached for the proffered pen - a blue ballpoint pen with a fancy casing that probably cost more than the jumper she was wearing to hide the old t-shirt she had thrown on that morning. 

She was absolutely going to be sick. 

A click on the top of the pen let Aria know that it was ready, and with wobbly, shaky hands;

she signed across the line in deep blue ink.

2016.

The ceiling was spinning. 

That was new. 

Aria felt like her back had been slammed into a wall, like she’d been run over by a truck and been flattened into the ground - like she’d been underwater for too long and hadn’t had time to regain her breath. 

With a choked gasp, her mouth opened as a hand flew to her mouth. She coughed and inhaled simultaneously, choking on the air. Her chest heaved, hand pounding into it as if it was just in need of a kick-start. 

Hands found her waist, hoisting her into an upright sitting position. Aria was still coughing lightly, although the new pair of hands rubbing gently against her back helped tremendously. From a look upwards, eyes watering in the bright light, she was able to make out Yuta’s humored face.

“Yah, Riri what have we told you about those turns?” he scolded, eyes bright with mischief although she could see the tinge of worry hidden behind it. 

“Not to do them unless someone else is here,” she mumbled, leaning back into his comforting hand on her back. It really did help, considering she had just wiped out onto the hard flooring. 

“Stupid.” Yuta flicked her forehead, before mussing her hair affectionately. The skin reddened slightly, and Aria hissed in pain. She glared at Yuta, who looked far too nonchalant for having just assaulted her. Standing up, he offered a hand to help her off the floor which Aria begrudgingly accepted.

She huffed dramatically, stretching her arms above her head. Aria felt her shoulders crack and sighed slightly at the burst of tension release. She let her head fall to the side as she heard the door to the practice room open.

Ah, there were the others.  

Taeyong walked into the room first, followed by Taeil, Donghyuck, and all the boys before Aria was outnumbered seven to one. 

Her world was spinning. 

[oftenderweapons]

Girls’ Night — a girlfriends’ tale

Characters: OCs (Vixen, Princess, Lace), small Namjoon intromission

Wordcount: 12.2k

Genre: slice of life with discussion of BDSM themes, conversation

Rating: suggested 18+

Hello doves! As I announced the other day, I have been working on extra pieces that I really loved as a concept. This one — I must admit — is especially dear to me since it covers topics that I consider extremely important. This fic discusses mature themes. Please minors, do not read or interact.

Quick recap: (read Jimin’s Love Talk if you want to know the whole background for this story) Princess — Jimin’s girlfriend — has ventured into the world of BDSM after Jimin expressed his interest in being dominated and spanked. A few days after her first brief session with Jimin, two old acquaintances come to her help: Vixen — Namjoon’s girlfriend and Princess’ high school classmate — and Lace, Vixen’s best friend, Princess’ university flatmate but also Taehyung’s latest crush. (Tae and Lace met through Vixen at Taehyung’s housewarming party). The girls meet for dinner at Princess’ apartment and after some confessions and girl talk, they explore the most important rules and procedures a person should know before dominating their partner in a basic impact play scenario, with special contributions of a trained domme and an experienced brat. 

The piece is written with the girls as characters described through the POV of an external narrator. If you want to get to know the characters a bit better, you can find their headcanons here (Vixen — Princess — Lace).

On a lexical note: throughout the text I’ve used the word “dom” both as in short of the verb and of the noun. Even though the feminine form is usually “domme”, I’ve considered it gender neutral, as a short term for both “dominator” and “dominatrix”. 

On an ethical note: I wanted to raise awareness on how a safe, sane and consensual domination works. These days there’s an increasing number of BDSM pieces coming out, and very few of them mention the level of emotional connection that is necessary in these circumstances. Most of them focus on the scene, without showing how pre-session negotiations, aftercare and post-session feedback work. I wanted this piece to be educational and I wanted to show the “background work” on how I plan each BDSM-themed piece before I write it. Though I’ve done a lot of research on handbooks, websites and forums, I am NOT a BDSM educator, so I would recommend reading more in-depth manuals in case you ever decided to venture in this world, and possibly speak with an expert first.

On to trigger warnings: swearing, consumption of alcohol, obviously there is in-depth discussion of NSFW and BDSM themes with focus on impact play. Discussion of hard limits, negotiations, SSC (safe, sane, consensual), safewords, aftercare, bruising, cutting/puncturing (connected with cane and cat-o-nine-tales whipping), marking, pain kink, punishment, drop (both for subs and doms), anatomy of impact play (where to hit, how to hit), sex toys (spanking, face slapping, paddle, riding crop, slapper, strap, whip, flogger, cane). That should be all. In terms of angst, there is some insecurity, jealousy, and slightly traumatic past experiences. Lace recalls one time she “dropped”, Vixen recalls a series of quite intense scenes. There are mentions of Vixen’s second relationship (toxic relationship with a man who called her out for her sex drive, kinkshamed her and forced her into becoming exclusively vanilla). Both Princess and Vixen mention abandoning some friends since they couldn’t trust them close to their boyfriends, or not respecting their privacy. Lace mentions traumas that lead her to learn domination. She also explains her insecurities about possibly dating Taehyung.

Word count: lengthy. 12.2k words. Reading is not necessary but recommended since a lot of pieces stem directly from this one. 

Here is my masterlist!

Enjoy 💖

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EDIT: You can find part two here

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Lace came through with the loud stomps of the heels of her boots, the bag on her shoulder swaying heavily. It looked like she was ready to enter Cat Woman mode, wearing a cropped leather jacket rimmed with a thick black-fur neck. Her wondrous thighs were clad in tight, high-waisted jeans, her black leather knee boots completing the look. She impeccably wore her part.

As she neared the door, she checked her watch, noticing that she was a couple minutes early.

Five minutes later, always fashionably late, arrived Vixen, her hair falling perfectly around her pretty face, her lips tinged with a deep wine red, her doe eyes as inquisitive and wide as usual. It was exactly the girl she had met two years before on the other side of the counter of her shop, it looked like she hadn't aged a week.

"Hello!" She greeted her friend.

"Hi there! Look at you, you look like the best girlie in the world." Lace hollered back.

"Because I am." Vixen replied, basking in the attention and the praises.

"That self esteem is thriving! Freshly fucked and ready to misbehave?"

"Unfortunately not freshly enough, but you know me, I'm always ready to misbehave." Vixen winked before making her way to the entrance of the building, pressing the buzz for Princess' apartment.

"Isn't your big boy attending to his duties?" Lace asked, curious about the whole situation. She had personally met Namjoon and had seen the two of them together. They looked like the it-couple and she would gladly bet big money on the pair. Plus she knew about Vixen's collection and Namjoon's taste in terms of lingerie and negligees: in her honest opinion that's a solid base for a lasting union.

"He's attending, yes, but I don't want to vex him with my continuous cravings."

"Baby, not all of us are like that slut-shaming bastard of your ex. Stop thinking that needing to get laid more than once a week is a shame."

Princess voice sounded from the intercom. "Hi! It's floor 16 number 41!"

"Thank you!" Vixen replied before pushing the door open.

Lace slapped her hand and held the door as Vixen walked through. The other followed. "It's just that… He's been busy, plus he keeps saying he likes to come back early so we can have dinner together, he's always rushing from the studio to the dorms to his apartment. He looks like he'll get drunk on motion sickness before the tour even starts."

Lace stared at her feet as you both stood in the lift. How could she start something serious with Taehyung if they were going on tour? By the time she would get used to him he would be travelling on the other side of the world.

"So he stays at the dorms?" Lace fixed her bag on her shoulder.

"Often, yes. He stays at the apartment when I'm around, but he prefers the dorms when he's by himself or working."

The lift dinged and you exited, heading down the hallway "Thirty-eight, forty, there!" Lace chirped, noticing the open door.

There stood Princess, hair in a ponytail, wearing a fashionable white turtleneck and a thigh knee-length skirt. She looked classy and smart, just like she had appeared during previous meetings.

"Hello girls!" She waved at the pair, gesturing at them to come in.

"Hi there!" said Lace, "long time no see."

"We don’t see each other in ages and then two times in less than a month." Princess replied while hugging her. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if we reacquainted?”

Vixen nodded with a cute smile. "It would. I must say it was a surprise to meet you at the party with Jimin." Vixen took off her shoes as Princess offered her a pair of slippers.

"It seems like fate brought us back together." Princess replied.

“Indeed.” She commented, thinking about how they would get even closer if she gave in to the preternatural connection with Taehyung. Lace tugged at her boots, fighting with them a little before finally removing them, lost in her thoughts. She clumsily tried to avoid Vixen’s stare. She knew the girl would spot her secret in a second. Not now, she told herself. With the slippers on, Lace still looked like Catwoman from the ankles up, but her feet were clad with a pair of pink panther slippers that gave the outfit a hilarious twist.

"Let's move to the kitchen," Princess said, leading the way. "The apartment is small, sorry."

"Don't worry sweetie, with a view like this I would gladly live in a shoebox." Vixen commented, looking out of the window. "Plus you live pretty high up."

"It was accidental. I just needed something close to my office."

"What did you end up doing?" Lace asked as she looked at the prints on the wall.

"I work for a fashion magazine. Usually I do model casting and a little bit of everything about organising photoshoots." Princess replied.

"That sounds great!" Lace exclaimed, grinning.

Princess clumsily opened a bottle of wine, but fortunately no damage resulted. "What about you?"

"I'm a shop assistant in a lingerie shop." Lace replied.

"Don't diminish yourself like that." Vixen said, looking away from the window. "She works at the La Perla boutique in Gangnam, plus she has her own studio where she creates customised orders." The woman patted her friend on the shoulder. "She's amazing."

Princess lit up. "So you managed to make part of your dream come true!"

"A small part. I'm still far from having my own shop." Lace exhaled.

"But she's getting there." Vixen added with a positive note.

"I ordered in a little bit of everything." Princess said, taking the food out of the oven. "I didn't trust my cooking skills knowing this one." She pointed at Vixen. "I've heard you're almost a chef."

"I just took lessons." She shrugged. "I just really like everything that feels like home."

Sniffing at the air, Vixen sparked up, getting cozy at the smell of bulgogi. "This smells very nice."

"A little bird told me it's your favourite." Princess winked.

"Do I know that little bird?"

"He knows you very well." Princess said, admiring how the polished, elegant woman-girl turned completely smitten.

"I'll make sure to thank him."

Lace snickered. "Do you need help?" She offered, while Princess laid out a bunch of smaller plates and bowls with side dishes. "I got some dumplings, pancakes and our baby's favourite: braised potatoes."

Vixen clapped enthusiastically.

Dinner proceeded calmly, all the partakers digging in quietly, chitchatting between one serving and another, catching up on the various mishaps that had happened during those years apart.

"So you studied in Europe, right?" Princess asked Vixen.

"I spent almost two years between France and England, yes." She replied politely, sipping her wine composedly as if she hadn't devoured her serving of potatoes like a very smug wolf.

"Cool. But you came back here." Princess continued.

"Yes, I missed home. And I missed jajangmyeon." Vixen grinned. "Food in general. I like my life here. Living in Europe to me felt like being continuously on the sidetrack of something. Catching up with the culture is seriously a challenge, especially when you're in the art world."

"Right, you're an interior designer." Princess reminded herself.

"Exactly."

"I've heard you met Namjoon because of that."

Vixen smiled. "Yeah, well… The usual. We met at a gallery, I had a meeting with the artist and he accidentally participated. The artist and the director of the gallery accompanied us through the exhibition and at the end he asked if I wanted to grab a coffee. At the beginning I thought it strange that he hadn't booked a private visit, but he said that because of a last minute plan he had begged the director to book him in anytime. Since I'm friends with the director and I have strict privacy agreements at the firm, the curator thought it was a good idea."

"Who would have thought, uh?" Lace chirped in, laying her chopsticks on her empty bowl.

"Y'all, soju?" Princess asked, now that they were all done with the food.

While Vixen nodded, Lace held back. "I think I'll take just a sip. It gets me bloated."

The table was clean, the small cups for soju laying on the table as Princess shook the bottle and poured it according to tradition.

"Cheers to your taken asses and my single one." Offered Lace, the three of them laughing and downing the liquid. Princess drank it without even blinking, Lace taking it in a small measured way while Vixen downed it and scrunched her nose, shutting her eyes tight and shaking her head as she processed the burn.

"You're still a doll." Princess commented.

"And you're still otherworldly cool." Vixen replied, smirking. "You were the most bad ass girl of the class. I had lots of respect for you, but I was so scared of approaching you."

"You were so tiny and shy." Princess gushed. "You were everyone's crush but you were so smart. And a bit strange. It felt wrong to even think of you like that."

Vixen shook her head, "It feels strange to bring up those memories. After university and being abroad it feels like another life."

"Because many things changed in the meantime." Lace argued. "I've known you since you started working, two years ago."

"I spent half of my first paycheck at your shop."

"You did. And I asked you for coffee because I liked your sense of fashion."

"I thought you wanted to date me." Vixen laughed.

"Well, when you're done snuggling your big bear, you know you can come to me." Lace winked.

"My bear is pretty big so it might take me a while to be done with that." Vixen joked. "Plus I'm pretty happy. I haven't been this happy since I was nineteen. I'm content. Satisfied. Taken care of. Loved. I'm thriving." She closed her eyes and shrugged, smiling.

"My bad." Lace patted her own shoulder in support. "What about you and Jimin?"

"Oh, we met during a photoshoot. I assisted in his shoot and when he was done he asked to see the pictures that would feature on the magazine. That's when he asked me out for dinner." Princess said, her eyes shining as she remembered the event.

Lace noticed the two women staring at her. "Well time for my story… Me and my dildo met at the store, he was cute, I was needy and I invited him to my bed. That's how we first met and we've been happy ever since." Lace told emotionally. The other two burst out laughing, Vixen holding her belly while Princess leaned on the table.

"Oh goodness." The smaller one said.

"I think it's time we face our main topic. Would you like to start?." Lace asked Princess.

"Okay. I'll be very direct." Princess warned.

"Don't worry, we're all grown ups here. You're safe, darling." Vixen stretched her arm out to caress her forearm. "And we're pretty open minded, trust me."

"Okay. Basically, Jimin would like me to get a bit more rough in the bedroom. Namely, we tried spankings the other week. He sort of power-bottomed? Like he gave me instructions on how to do it."

Lace nodded.

"I am worried about how to handle this. I want to do it, but I don't know how to do it right. I don't want to hurt him." Princess said with a frown. “And I’m a little worried I liked it so much.”

Lace’s lips formed a small conspiratorial smile. “At the beginning there’s always a little bit of fear. And a bit of… Shame.”

“Yes.” Princess confirmed. “But it’s not something that bothers me. Like, it’s there but it doesn’t bother me. I don’t think it will persist. When I think about what we did… Well, I’m almost proud.”

Lace smirked and nodded. “That’s good. What would you like to work on? Is it just impact play — you called it "spanking" — or is it also domination on a broader sense?"

"Well… Wait, I took notes." Princess looked around, walking towards her bedroom and coming back with a small notebook and the guide.

"It's the book!" Lace exclaimed.

"The book." Vixen wiggled her eyebrows knowingly.

"You, vixen." Lace smirked. "Namjoon is right calling you that."

"You have no idea." The other replied. "Now, let's see."

"I'll return you the book." Princess reassured her.

"You can keep it for another bit. You'll need it again with Jimin."

"We have our own copy, don't worry." Princess replied, with a quick smirk. "Well, I think I can dom pretty fine — as I read the book I realised I already have some of those behaviours. However there are some practices I might have to learn in person."

"Normally we teach how to dom through subbing: what you experienced the first time with Jimin was subliminally subbing." Lace took the reins and explained. "It is one of the most sophisticated forms of domming — being a power bottom — and the fact that he did that should suggest you that A — he's a very skilled sub, or B — he's generically a very smart person with good manipulative skills."

Princess listened to the explanation quite raptured. "Personally, I don't know how far he's gone with his exes but I would say he has taken the lead before and he's quite used to speak up and order me around a little, so his behaviour might come from that."

Lace nodded. "I would recommend that you talk to him and try to design a specific plan for the two of you. As I hinted before I have taken lessons on BDSM practices in a club here in the city. I have received almost two years of training and I have taken part as an assistant to a teacher for another two years, that's why I might sound academic and serious. You can stop me whenever you feel uncomfortable or when you need to ask a question." That's when Lace shifted. Her whole position changed: her back got straighter and her hands splayed on the table, somehow squaring her position.

"Okay." Princess confirmed.

"You know that during university I took that course on acrobatic yoga?" Lace asked.

Princess frowned. "Yeah, I remember."

"Well, it wasn't exactly acrobatic yoga." Lace shrugged and raised her eyebrows. "At the beginning I did do some acrobatic yoga lessons but then one of the students introduced me to this BDSM course and I left yoga for… yeah, you know." Lace laughed.

Vixen listened quietly, observing Princess' reaction.

"Would you consider taking lessons from an expert?" Lace asked.

Princess shrugged. "I think that the book was very good on general analysis. Personally, I've never considered meeting an expert mostly because I wouldn't know where to look for one. Plus, I've only had a week to think about this."

Vixen looked at Lace. "I'll be very blunt here, darling. I think that the best thing to do would be discussing the whole book thing with Jimin. Have pre-session negotiations. Discuss stuff. Find out what you want to explore and go there together."

Lace raised an eyebrow. "However, it is perfectly okay if you want to practice by yourself. Being a good dominant means that you can convey control and safety through your stance and behaviour. That requires practice."

Vixen nodded before adding, "It's okay if you want to take some steps by yourself before bringing him into the equation."

"Okay, so I reckon you have quite some knowledge on the theme. Maybe you could teach me something?" Princess asked Lace, a bit shy but fully determined.

Lace smirked. "That's why I came prepared. However, I must remind you I have been a co-trainer, and that doesn't mean I am a teacher, therefore I can only cover the basic stuff, which for now will suffice."

Vixen's eyes burned expectantly.

"Our girl here might help you see stuff through a submissive's eyes, right?" Lace questioned.

Vixen nodded and smiled, reassuring Princess by placing a hand on top of hers.

"Okay. Let's talk about general principles. BDSM is an acronym for Bondage, Domination, Sadism and Masochism. But I guess you read this in the book." Lace presented.

Princess nodded.

"The golden rule is SSC: Safe, Sane, Consensual. Use protection and make sure that you're both tested and clean if you go without a condom or dental dams. Also, keep your toys clean. Do not start anything if your judgement is clouded — by alcohol, drugs or violent, instinctual emotions. Make sure that both you and your partner want the same things. Explain what is going to happen and negotiate before each session — at least for the first few times. This is also the right moment to talk about safe words."

"Me and Jimin covered these already." Princess noted.  

“Then you’re already halfway there. The biggest part of training is making people always aware of all the steps that could possibly go wrong and make sure that you’re prepared for the worst case scenario.”

Vixen nodded. “As a sub, it is important to feel safe. An anxious sub is a sub who can hardly feel pleasure, and that invalidates the experience as a whole. We only do it for pleasure.”

Princess listened carefully and thought about it a little. “How… How does it feel…To be a sub? I mean, I’ve sort of subbed with Jimin but… Yeah.”

“Well, I’m leaning-sub. That means I rarely dom, and when I do I’m a power bottom — that thing that Jimin did when he gave you instructions on how to dominate him. Being a sub has a lot to do with feeling cherished and taken care of. Some of us are not comfortable with power and responsibilities. Some of us simply like to be told what to do and please. I like doing what Joon tells me to do and do it perfectly the way he wants it to be done, because I know he will praise me and reward me. I know that he loves me regardless of me doing what he wants, but it pleases me immensely to use my submission to show him how far my trust and love for him go. I feel safe when I'm in his hands. And I like punishment, it helps me deal with guilt. When I make a mistake, I always torture myself with guilt and self-hate, but punishment makes me feel like I've made a mistake and I've paid for it. The point is not the punishment, but rather the forgiveness and the sense of atonement afterwards." Vixen spoke with a composed attitude, however her eyes wandered around nervously, as if trying to avoid meeting the others’ gazes.

"In that case the dominant is supposed to be attentive in terms of how far the submissive pushes themself. A sub looking for forgiveness is a sub willing to go further than normal, which means that they might inadvertently reach their breaking point — which shall never happen." Lace highlighted.

"The golden rule is to always leave hungry. There is a fine line between satiety and nausea. The moment you overstep and reach nausea is the moment your sub might hurt themself." Vixen said, tight lipped.

Princess nodded. "I'm glad we can have this conversation. It's not something I can quite talk about with my friends since the whole situation with the boys is pretty delicate. I had to close some of those friendships to keep Jimin safe. I realised I couldn't trust some of those people and I'm glad I realised before it was too late."

Vixen’s leg started bouncing. “Same with Joon. I don’t have that many friends in the city, mostly because of the time abroad and the fact that all of the friends I had by now are married and/or with kids. I couldn’t trust many of them, but you —” she said, gesturing towards Lace, “and when I introduced you to Namjoon I told him you were one of the most discreet people in the world, because you value your privacy and other people’s privacy because of your, uhm, lessons.”

“It feels good to have someone to share this burden with. I’m pretty scared of the tour.” Vixen looked down. The poised young woman seemed to crumble, giving space to an insecure little creature. “We’ve been dating since last November, but our relationship hasn’t really begun until late February. To be honest I’m terrified.”

Both Lace and Princess reached out for her.

“I’m scared.”

“Have you told him?”

“Yes, he knows.” Vixen sparked up for a minute. “We talk a lot. He always asks me how I feel about things. Lately I’ve been spending all my time away from work with him. It’s been… maybe three days since I last went back to my apartment. And in the last month or so I’ve slept alone maybe three or four nights. I don’t know what I’ll do when he’s away.” Vixen’s eyes welled up with tears before she smiled classily and recomposed herself. “But that’s not relevant.”

“It is, baby.” Princess rubbed her shoulder. “You have my number. You can reach out to me anytime.”

“I’ll be there too, you know. I know I’m not your Big Bear, but I can cook and I’m an excellent vintage movie marathon partner.” Lace rubbed the other shoulder, catching the few tears that had fallen. This was a further confirmation that Namjoon was the right man for Vixen: he had reached out to Lace a few weeks after they had been introduced, asking her if it was cool if he asked her updates on Vixen during the tour, mostly because he knew she would put up her strong, charming face in front of him, but secretly she would be worrying over his absence. That brought them close; it felt good to create this safety net for Vixen and it felt even better to know her in the hands of a man worthy of her, attentive despite his busy schedule and strong work ethic.

“Thank you, girls. That’s really sweet of you.”

“You’re the one who made this possible,” said Princess, gesturing to the three of them sitting at the table together. “I owe you. And I reckon this is a good time to make amends for not making friends with you in high school.” Princess laughed. “We’ll all need each other. We could have a group chat with Jin’s girlfriend too. Plus Jimin mentioned Yoongi is seeing someone.”

“Yes, Namjoon mentioned too. I’ve heard she’s a lawyer. He’s got this insanely huge crush on her.” Vixen giggled. “I haven’t met her yet but I’ve heard they were supposed to go out tonight.”

“Maybe we’ll see her at the next gathering.” Princess wondered. “I must admit I’m curious.”

“I am too.”

Lace felt a bit out of the conversation. “Me and Taehyung have been texting.”

Vixen blinked and turned to her. “What?” She had this face that read perfect confusion. “How long? And you’ve never told me? I mean, I gave him your number but I didn’t—”

“It’s because I haven’t been really taking him into consideration until recently.” Lace replied. “Normally I would reply to him with small texts, just to avoid sounding rude.”

“You mean to tell me you have Taehyung wrapped around your little finger — Kim Heartthrob Taehyung — and you weren’t even interested? Have you been doing drugs too?” Vixen looked outraged. “Fucking insane.” She shook her head.

“You know me. I value my privacy. Do you know how fucking un-private it is to potentially date that man? What if they find out about my extracurriculars?” Lace pointed out.

Vixen exhaled and formed a tight-lipped smile.

“Don’t give me the disappointed mom look.” Lace replied. “Plus I’m the same age as you, you have no right to turn judgemental.”

“Of course.” Vixen nodded. “Your safety first, love.”

“It’s just that I want to, but I can barely imagine how fucked up that could be.”

Princess breathed out. “Jimin and I have been extremely private about us and me being so close to the press means I am risking so much.” Princess opened her arms wide. “But it would take a catastrophe to take him away from me.”

“Give him a chance. Tell him about everything outright and let him choose. He’ll take his chance. Don’t choose for him.” Vixen pointed out. “That’s how I did with Joon. We talked and clearly said ‘this is what I need and what I can give, can you comply? Are you okay with it?’ It’s a bit of a bet, but I think the prospect of gain outweighs the actual risk of it.”

Lace nodded. “And then there’s the tour.”

Vixen and Princess nodded. Vixen tried to keep her insecurity and jealousy at bait. All those girls drooling over him, all those female staff members travelling with him. She propped her elbows on the table and pressed her forehead against her palms, her lovely hair falling forward.

Princess, sitting beside her, rubbed her back. “What if you just give him one date. Tell him your situation both about your, uhm— hobby and your emotional state. I’m sure he will understand. His emotional intelligence is impressive.” Princess stated, nodding, her hand still rubbing Vixen’s spine.

“He’s the kind of man I would gladly be a sucker for.” Lace explained. “I knew I was a dom since I was eighteen, but Jesus, I know I would sub for him.” Vixen seemed to awaken at that comment. “I’ve seen his stages. He is insane.” Lace bit her lip. “But I need time to trust him. And it would feel useless to get cosy with him only to have him leave for the tour.”

“Just tell him.” Vixen encouraged her. “He will surely work with you on a compromise.”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Are you okay?” Lace checked in on Vixen.

“Yup. Just a sudden jealousy rush.”

Lace frowned. “He would never. Don’t worry about that.” Lace cocked her head to the side. “He worships the ground you step on.”

“Girls throw thems—”

“He throws himself at you.” Lace remarked. “Plus he loves you. You love him. That’s all that matters. He gave you the passcode to his house, basically made you move in, what else do you need? I bet he’d gladly handcuff himself to you if you asked kindly enough.” Lace joked.

“Scratch that ‘kindly enough’. He’d cuff himself to you without you even asking.” Princess remarked.

“Can we move back to the BDSM introductory lessons?” Vixen asked, shaking her head, but with a tiny smile on her face.

Lace saw that was a good sign. Princess smiled beside her. “Okay, I’ll go with my request. I know I told you I wanted to get to know more of impact play and if we could focus on that...”

“Yes, I get where you’re headed. Let’s get it. But we’ll need a clean table for this.” Lace explained.

“Let’s do this.” Princess stood up from the table, beginning to clean up everything. It took the girls only a couple minutes to get rid of dirty dishes, empty boxes, the glasses and the soju. Even the fruit basket the guests had bought was moved on the kitchen counter.

“Do you have any sanitizer, perhaps?” Lace asked.

“Isn’t it better if we move to the sofa?” Suggested Vixen. “Use the coffee table?”

Princess shrugged. “Same to me.”

Lace nodded convincedly. “Let’s prep the coffee table. Sorry for the main table.”

Princess shrugged. “Needed to clean it anyways.”

A few minutes later the girls were all sitting around the coffee table, Lace’s bag placed at her side while Vixen occupied her other side, Princess sitting in front of them.

“Let’s do an impact play in depth analysis. What you need is one — a dom, two — a sub, three — optional, — supplies.” Lace listed. “Let’s go a bit at a time. First, the dom. A dom must be sober, lucid. No alcohol, drugs, and most importantly, no impulsive, instinctual emotions. If you’re furious, don’t go there. Violent emotions can cloud your judgement. Don’t let those lead you. Of course you might be angry or aroused, but that must not take the lead. If your anger makes you want to give them fifty spanks, but normally your sub can take twenty, you can negotiate maybe twenty-five. Be judicious, never hungry.”

“Good.” Said Princess, focusing on every single one of Lace’s words.

“Once you’re sure you’re in a coherent, calm mindset, you should negotiate with your sub. Remember: safe, sane, consensual. Safe, in this case, involves that your supplies are clean and cannot hurt your sub, both in terms of cleanliness and state of use. Check for loose threads, scratches on leather that could possibly host bacteria or dirt, splinters in case of wooden devices, porous surfaces. We’ll talk about this more accurately in the supplies section. Sane means to check your mindset and your sub’s mindset. Same rules as before: no alcohol, drugs, violent emotions.”

Vixen made eye contact with Lace, silently requesting permission to speak. “Small note on that, may I?”

Lace nodded.

“Your sub might come to you while being emotionally unstable. They might need you for comfort or atonement. Make sure to heal that emotionally before dealing with it sexually. It means to discuss what caused the upset state of mind in order to identify the real entity of the problem, correct the perception of it and negotiate the atonement.”

“Excellent point.” Replied Lace.

Vixen smiled cutely.

“Can I have an example?” Asked Princess with a frown.

“Of course. Let’s say I fucked up at work, I booked the wrong artwork and the artwork they wanted is no longer available. I manage to find an alternative but I somehow feel like I let down my client. I go home and I am scolding myself because I didn’t deliver what was asked of me. My dom may spot my disappointment or may recognise self-punishment. Also, I might explicitly tell my dom I am not feeling well due to a sense of guilt. This leads to my dom asking me why I am upset or why I am punishing myself. I — along other perfectionists like Jimin — tend to overestimate my mistakes, making them a bigger deal than what they actually are. My dom corrects my perspective through objective analysis, underlines my successful abilities in dealing with the issue and suggests potential improvements on those things I didn’t manage to solve. Perfectionists have a strict inner judge that scolds them and punishes them. Therefore their psych is divided into victim and punisher. This fracture obviously causes discomfort. The dom’s goal is to heal this fracture, especially since the perfectionist’s “punisher” side — so to say — is very strict and usually overestimates the damage and subsequently overestimates the punishment. After correcting the perception of the mistake, the dom gives an appropriate price for atonement.”

“So the goal is to stop the guilt trip mechanism?” Princess asked.

“Yes.” Vixen confirmed. “But this is just one kind of spanking. There are other cases. It can be educational or simply sexual. Educational is when the dom corrects the sub’s behaviour because they violated a rule or an order. In that case it’s mostly dom-initiated—”

“Unless the sub willingly misbehaved to earn a punishment.” Lace added.

“That sounds Jimin.” Princess commented, rubbing her forehead.

Vixen smiled widely.

“That’s not funny, you brat!” Lace scolded her.

“When you find your sub willingly misbehaving, you should talk to them very clearly. Usually they do it to attract attention. Ignoring them might hurt them or bring them to further misbehaviour, which can turn dangerous. I normally recommend conversation.” Lace explained. “Pay attention to them and ask why they broke the rule, what they were trying to get out of it. You can give them the punishment they were asking for — for example if your sub disobeyed because it earns them spanks and they like spanks, you can either give them spanks or punish them with something that they really don’t like, for example edging.”

Princess nodded. “That’s interesting, thank you.”

“Any remark, Vixen?”

She shrugged. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What about sexual spanks?” Princess questioned.

“Those can be incorporated into foreplay. Some people are simply aroused by pain.” Vixen shrugged. “It puts the sub into a vulnerable position, and it underlines a power imbalance. It makes the sub feel smaller, powerless — or almost so — and sometimes humiliated.” Vixen explained.

“Exactly. I would add that it stimulates the circulation of blood to the pelvis region, which means that skin is more sensitive, arousal increases and the whole perception intensifies. It builds trust and sometimes, according to personal history of each sub, it can send them back to childhood memories, mimicking the power imbalance between child and adult who disciplined them. It has strong disciplinary and educational value, back to the punishment scene.”

“Oh, about punishment!” Vixen exclaimed. “We forgot the most important part of it all. But it refers to all sorts of spanking, to be true. Negotiation. Once you have identified the fault, tell your sub how many hits there will be, how you will deliver them and with which instrument, which position they will have to assume. Repeat safewords. Make sure that they agree fully to every detail of the spanking. If they do not agree to some parts, ask to find a compromise, a middle ground between your and their needs. Once you have the green light, you can talk your sub through the whole experience as the scene actually develops. Once you are done with the scene, say a code phrase that means that the scene has finished.”

“Okay, me and Jimin did this stuff our first time trying this.” Princess confirmed.

“Wonderful. Was it a positive experience? Did you have any uncertainties, questions?”

“It was a very positive experience, both in mine and his opinion. We talked it out the morning after, since I preferred to have some time to elaborate my personal feelings about the scene”

“That’s okay. As a dom you can experience mixed feelings, especially after a first scene, with activities that are usually misjudged by society”. Lace explained, gently patting Princess’ hand on top of the table.

“I think that Jimin’s positive reaction and guidance helped me feeling positive about the whole scene. He was truly supportive through all of it.” Princess smiled softly.

“That’s a good partner. Both for life and for play”. Lace smiled herself, glad that Princess’ first experience went well.

“There were very deep emotions of care and support and love during the whole scene. A kind of affection and vulnerability I had never experienced with anyone else. I hope I can go there again with him, but next time I want to be more reliable and secure and experienced. I thought that a general introduction, especially about supplies, could help me, since Jimin was interested in that.”

“Okay, let’s just finish the general intro. We were saying safe, sane and consensual. Safe means toys, safewords and aftercare supplies. Sane means both parties know what they’re doing, the dom is aware of the sub’s mental space. Consensual means negotiation about number of blows, technique, position and eventually toys. Make sure that your sub always knows about the motive of the spanking. The natural response, especially to pain, is ‘why’. Make sure they know. Eventually, remind them. Once more remind them of safewords and the final sentence.”

“Do not ever stop unless they safeword.” Vixen said. “If they repeatedly tell you to stop, remind them they have their safewords if they want to. As a sub I’ve said both ‘stop’ and ‘why’ at least a hundred time during a spanking. ‘Stop’ and similar are pretty recurrent. Just say ‘You know your safeword, love’. If they really need them, they will use them, trust me. Just remind them all the time. You could maybe need to slow down, make sure that they aren’t panicking and they do actually remember their words.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Lace confirmed before turning to Vixen. “Have you been studying?” She joked.

“I’ve been reading lately.” Vixen confirmed, with a very happy smile on her face.

Lace mirrored her expression. She knew Vixen had been pushed into quitting BDSM activities by her ex boyfriend. Knowing that she was finally back to something she liked, something she was comfortable with made her happy. “I’m glad you’re back on track, sweetie.”

“Thank you.” Vixen closed the small exchange with Lace.

“Once a scene is closed, your sub might have different responses. They might ask to be left alone. In that case, make sure that healing supplies are ready for their self care. Remind them to check for abrasions. If the skin is damaged on a surface level — that means it is not only bruised, but also broken — you will need disinfectant and probably band aids.” Lace explained.

“But that happens rarely, right?” Vixen asked.

“With average spanking, that is quite rare. Normally you need specific instruments specifically meant to cause abrasions.”

“Like canes and spiked toys?”

“Yes, but not only those. I’ve seen pretty heavy damage caused by an apparently regular flogger.” Lace commented, shuddering at the memory.

Vixen blinked, a bit shocked. “Okay, back to aftercare.”

“Yeah,” said Princess, exhaling and looking away.

“So, unless your sub wants you to leave, you stay around. Provide for them. Rub lotion first. Some subs store specific lotion for this kind of stuff. To ease the burn, the sting, or lessen the bruises.”

Vixen interrupted. “I must say, most of us like the bruises and the reminder-sting, so they don’t really do much about it. Still, it depends on how far you’ve gone and how the sub feels. Usually, my favourites are a cold cloth, lotion and if I went particularly far maybe a painkiller. Normally herbal lotion and muscle relaxant are an excellent solution. They’re softer and safer, especially since you never know how a sub might react to medicines. As usual, make sure that whatever you use on them is safe. Let them prepare their usual medication. Make sure you have plenty of time to ascertain that they are emotionally stable. Do not leave them alone unless they request so, and tendentially it is good etiquette to stay in proximity, in case they change their mind.”

“Thank you so much for all the head ups.” Princess said, true gratitude shining all over her face. “I feel more comfortable knowing that we followed those lines during the first time too. It’s not something absurd. Youjust really need to use your common sense.”

Vixen nodded. “Being smart sure helps, but it’s not everything. You can only truly learn it by making it a routine.”

“You mean practice?” Princess questioned.

Lace nodded. “Yes. Once you actually start practicing, you’ll immediately find out your forte and potential weaknesses. Be comfortable with those: you can ask us or look it up on the guide, or on BDSM blogs. I can send you reliable sources, if need be. I would say you can reach out to my dungeon, it is a safe and discreet environment, but I fully understand your position, and I get that you might prefer to have a private approach to this. You can eventually book personal appointments with an expert. Those normally include non-disclosure agreements and Jimin could be protected from the public eye, as far as it can go.” Lace explained. “We have had many, many clients who have requested so. It would be perfectly normal.”

Princess thought about it and nodded. “I’ll discuss it with Jimin.”

“Perfect. As you can see the key to this is communication.”

“Indeed.” Confirmed Princess.

“Now, let’s get down to the actual business.” Lace opened the bag but left all the contents inside. “Impact play can happen on different parts of the body. Vixen?” Lace called.

Vixen stood up gingerly.

“Tie your hair, doll.” Lace reminded her.

The woman fished a ribbon from her pocket and did a soft ponytail.

“Good. I’ll show you.” Lace fished out a long, silky bag from her weekender; untying the ribbon, she pushed her hand in and extracted a long stick. A cane, Princess corrected herself.

Lace didn’t pay much attention. Its purpose was that of a pointing stick at that moment. “Number one, the derrière.” Vixen turned and Lace let the wooden instrument hover over the girl’s ass. “You know what to do to hit here?”

“Find the tailbone and place your non-dominant hand over it to protect it. Alternate sides, rub between a spank and another. Hit the lower region, far from the nerves up high. Where the flesh swells, that’s where I can hit. Also the back of the thighs.”

“Excellent. That’s all.” Lace congratulated. “Other spots are the back of the legs, more precisely the back of the knees and the calves. However, knees are delicate, so you can only deliver delicate blows with a restricted selection of toys. I would not recommend it. The back of the calves also offer a limited selection of toys, but it is slightly safer to go there. Still, the surface is limited and the knees and ankles are close. The risk of missing your target is high. Since you’re a beginner I would not go there.”

Princess nodded. “What kind of toys can I use?”

“We’ll cover that later. For now let’s just run through anatomy.” Lace answered calmly. “Are you good, Vixen?”

“Yup.” The other replied.

“Perfect. Turn to your side profile.” Lace asked and Vixen quickly provided.

Lace pressed the cane in a line connecting the peaks of each of Vixen’s glutes. “From here—” she moved all the way down to her mid thighs “— to here it’s good. The peak to the midthigh.”

“Great. Got it.” Princess replied. “There are other places? Like…?”

“Would you like to talk?” Lace asked Vixen. “You're the expert.”

“May I?” She asked.

“Of course, sweetie. You’re the expert in this.”

Princess raised an eyebrow at the comment, but still she stayed focused. To say she was intrigued was a big understatement.

Vixen’s sweet voice began speaking. “Other than the backside, as we’ve just mentioned, there are other spots that can be involved in impact play. While the back of the thighs and the butt can stand harsher beatings with almost all toys intended for impact play, other areas are more sensitive, more delicate or consist in a smaller expanse of skin, therefore they shall be treated differently. Both the palms and the back of the hands, just like the soles of the feet can be involved, especially when matched with instruments with a smaller surface of beating, like a slapper, a riding crop and a cane — for example. They shall be treated lightly, since they have lots of nerve endings, bones and tendons exposed.”

“What’s a leather strap?” Princess asked.

Lace lifted a finger as a sign to wait, before digging her other hand in her bag and extracting a small device, of maybe twentyish centimetres of length and five or six of width; she placed it on the table to let Princess observe it. “Handle and slappers.” She pointed. “Very noisy, actually pretty innocuous. The leather bits slap against each other and create a single impact that sounds like a double.”

“It sounds scary, though.” Vixen noted. It always made her blood curl in her veins, the heavy smack turning into a torturous feel as the hit didn’t match the noise. Fear worked, but the sensation didn’t. It was not something she liked, usually.

Lace nodded. “I haven’t used it much. Usually people like the cane on the back of the hands. Because of old school punishments.” Lace explained.

“Right. Thanks.” Princess nodded.

Vixen waited for a sign before moving on. Once she had both women’s attention, she proceeded. ”Thighs are generally all good, if they’re fleshy and plump enough. Make sure that you don’t go too hard when hitting close to private parts. While a vulva can handle a fair bit, the penis is generally more delicate in the structure. Thighs can handle all toys, just like the ass. Paddles, slappers, straps, riding crops, whips and canes. For private parts I recommend the riding crop.” Vixen smiled politely.

Princess interrupted. “The strap is that kind of… like?” She gestured a long and thin rectangle with her hands, looking for words.

“It looks like a belt bent in two, with a handle. Maybe I have it…” She rummaged in her bag. “No. Sorry. I think I left it at home.”

Princess waved her hands. “Don’t worry, that’s okay, I think I visualised it pretty well.” She smiled. “There’s more?” Princess said, marvelled as Vixen began talking again.

“Well, yes. Oh, first a small warning — before I forget. You must absolutely stay away from the belly and the stomach. Same for the lower back.” Vixen showed the various spots on her body with precise gestures of her hands. “Too many vulnerable organs left unprotected there.” She took a small pause and then moved on.

“Some people can handle hits on their shoulders and upper back, where the internal organs are protected by the ribcage and other bone structures; however I would talk with a professional about that kind of scene since you need to flawlessly master advanced equipment — people tendentially use whips and similar, or the strap.” Vixen stopped for a second, looking at Lace as if asking whether she had anything more to ask. Lace shook her head, inviting the other woman to proceed.

“Now, about delicate parts: some people like being slapped in the face, but then again, that must be clearly stated in the negotiations. I’d say you should only use hands, but maybe I’m projecting.”

“In four years, I’ve only used and seen other use hands. Also, riding crops, but usually that’s just to direct head movements or to pat the face, rather than slapping it.”

Vixen nodded. “Great. About interesting stuff, nipples can be gently stimulated with small, very delicate pats. Riding crops are excellent for this use. Also slappers. Maybe canes in some cases.” — Lace did a so-and-so motion with her head. Vixen continued, — “Some people can go very hard on nipples and technically — just like with the butt — women who have bigger breasts can stand more intense stimulation”.

“Oh, that yes. You can use, as usual, riding crops, but also paddles, straps and whips — if you’re experienced.” Lace added.

Princess nodded with an interested expression. She could mention that to Jimin. Imagining him with a riding crop, standing at the side of the bed, rubbing the leather bit against her nipples before whipping them harshly had her losing focus for a second, taking in a big breath and biting her lip.

Vixen grinned. She could practically read the other woman’s thoughts. “For women with smaller breasts and men, I would say to stay on the more gentle side for the first few sessions and eventually — once you know each other and once you know your sub’s pain threshold — you can get more heavy-handed, so to say. As I said before female private parts can handle pretty harsh whippings, especially since arousal tends to make the labia plumper and therefore protect the skin better. Still, you should start slow and work your way up. Male crotch area is a lot more delicate, however the shaft can take a medium-intense whipping. I recommend riding crops and small leather straps.”

Lace raised her eyebrows at Vixen with a proud grin. “Nothing to add. This should be all.”

“Wow.” Princess was a bit excited. If Jimin had looked that good with a few spanks, she could only imagine what he would do once she got more experienced and learned what actually drove him crazy.

“That’s a lot of stuff, I know.” Lace reassured her.

“I’m actually excited. Like, it sounds very interesting. There’s a lot of trust and knowing each other. I really like that. I think it brings the partners very close.”

Vixen nodded. “It does.”

Princess bit her lip. “I don’t want to pry but… Do you do all of that?” She looked at Vixen with a slight blush.

The woman giggled. “Not anymore, no.” She took a meditative pause, like she was reminiscing something. It felt strange that a girl so young could feel so old every now and then. That dark cloud that obscured Vixen’s doll-like traits disappeared, leaving only a fond grin in tow. “Now I do the bits I like best.” She grinned.

Lace looked at her with a bit of worry before smiling again.

“Before we actually start with tools I need to make sure that you know all you need about aftercare and drops.” Lace said seriously.

“Yes, please.” Princess said. “May I recap what we said about aftercare?”

“Yes, sure.” Lace invited her.

“Prepare the stuff before. Check for abrasions: if there are, then disinfectant and band aids. Next cold cloth, lotion and eventually painskiller. Use medicines that my sub takes regularly. Make sure that they’re okay emotionally. If they want me to leave, I do, but I stay close.”

“Amazing. Quick learner.” Lace cheered.

“Those were also in the book.” Princess commented, diminishing her feat. “Plus I did it already. Sort of.”

“I’ve seen people take weeks to put all of that together. You did a good job, stop doubting yourself.” Lace corrected her. God, these two insecure creatures would be the death of her.

“Aftercare is not only physical, but mostly emotional. If your sub wants you close, cuddle them. Jimin looks like the type to want cuddles and reassurance afterwards. Make sure you give plenty. Would you like to explain the drop Vixen?”

“Yes, of course.” Vixen intervened before addressing Princess. “I always like to talk about this subject because it can affect anyone, without any need to get involved in BDSM. ًWhen experiencing an orgasm, our bodies produce an incredible quantity of hormones that make us literally ecstatic. What happens sometimes, especially after long or intense scenes is that our bodies get high on these hormones, experiencing a sense of withdrawal once the rush is over. Such withdrawal, so to say, can cause pretty intense sadness that can lead to numbness, indifference, or even hate and depressive or aggressive behaviours. A good way to slow down this sadness is providing the body with other hormones that usually calm us and relax us. Cuddles and sugars usually are a good way to help the body produce oxytocin — commonly named ‘the hormone of happiness’. It’s the same hormone that spikes when mothers are breastfeeding their babies.” Vixen smiled fondly.

“This is incredible.” Princess said, completely amused. “So cuddles heal both the sub and the dom, I assume.”

“I think so, yes. Usually I’m the cuddler while Joon is the cuddlee during aftercare. Both subs and doms can experience the drop since both suffer the shift in hormones. It’s really about mutual care. Usually though, there are people who suffer more.” Vixen commented.

Lace spoke shyly. “Once I went so hard on a sub that I felt awful with myself after the scene was done.” Lace said. The silence felt heavy, like in some part of her mind Lace was still seeing that scene. “Usually the dom is expected to give the sub water, sweets and a cozy blanket — water for the body fluids, sweets for rebalancing the sugars after an intense effort and the blanket for emotional safety. I remember that one time the sub used the aftercare kit on me. It took me almost an hour to get back on a neutral state of mind.” It was Lace’s turn to be comforted. As Vixen rubbed her friend’s back, Princess spoke.

“So I might experience guilt and sadness afterwards and that’s normal?”

As Lace was still thinking, Vixen spoke up. “It happens, though usually, if your partner reassures you and supports you properly, you should be able to deal with it together with quite some ease. I myself have shouted slurs at my dom in the past during punishment, but that is because pain or anger make you do that. I may have sent him into a drop once, and since that time I always make sure that I praise and cuddle my dom once the scene is over. It’s important that you remind yourself that what is said during an intense scene is due to the sub’s sensations in that moment, therefore you shouldn’t give it much importance. Still, once you have your post-session chat you have every right to say ‘that hurt me, please don’t do that again’. It’s etiquette.” Vixen said with a serious note.

Princess nodded. “So cuddles, water, sweets and a good comfort blanket.”

“Normally, yes.” Vixen replied. “Sometimes shower or bath together, wash your partner clean or have them wash you. For some people physical cleanliness is also spiritual cleanliness. It eases the mind from whatever ‘dirty thing’ you’ve done during the scene. The rest is really what you would normally do during self-care, but with your sub. Facemask? Junk food? Lotion? Massage? Tea? Whatever you like as long as you do it with affection.”

Princess nodded. “This is really helpful. I just need to do anything that Jimin likes, and do it with him.”

“Yes, if he wants you close — which I assume he does, knowing the two of you.” Vixen smiled.

Lace added her own contribution. “If possible, remember to schedule a post-session chat. Whenever it feels comfortable. Normally you wait until all parties have fully recovered before saying ‘let’s talk about it together’, but some subs are already okay talking about it during aftercare. Just make sure that you know how your sub felt about the stuff that you did together, and that you tell them how you felt yourself. This is not one-sided. Power imbalance is limited to the scene: once you’re done, You’re equal again — that’s why a final sentence is necessary. It breaks the power imbalance and repristinates equality. All parties are equally entitled to support and communication.” Lace said, making sure that Princess grasped the concept. That’s where most couples went wrong: communicating.

“Thank you girls.” Princess said gently. “Thank you for the insights, and for your personal experiences.”

“You’re welcome.” Lace said heartily before grinning. “Now, let’s discuss supplies.”

Vixen cheered with a small ‘yes’ at which Lace replied murmuring ‘painslut’, chuckling playfully.

“Let’s start with these.” Lace showed her hands, letting the sleeves of her shirt fall a little, exposing her wrists. “These are your main instruments.” She showed the palms, then the backs. “You can use them everywhere. You can use your whole palm, flat, for a sting and cupped for a thud.”

“What’s that?” Princess asked.

“Vixen.” Lace called.

“A sting is when it prickles and bites, a thud is when it reverberates and goes deeper. You go with a quick, fleeting swat when you go for a sting—the palm must be flat and there must be a bit of wrist game. To deliver a thud, you should let your hand cup slightly and hit hard, keeping your hand pressed where you hit. It’s a matter of angle and speed.” Vixen replied readily, as if she were being asked what is two and two.

Princess grinned and nodded. “I see. Jimin mentioned something about it, but I don’t remember clearly. Which one hurts the most?” Princess asked Vixen.

“Well, it depends. It’s a different kind of pain and it depends on one’s sensitivity. Personally I prefer thuds, because usually it’s the muscle taking most of the impact, in case of traditional, over-the-knee butt spankings. Stings make my eyes water a little, because it hits a smaller area of skin with more pressure. But it really depends on what your sub feels.”

“It is all in the way it is delivered.” Lace stated.

Vixen bit her lip, nodding, and moved on.

“Hands can be also used to slap the face, as we said,— that should be especially clarified during negotiation — but also nipples and genitalia. Also, thighs, calves, hands and feet — though in some cases they might be too mild. Always remember that it is good manners to try the toys on yourself first, especially if it’s a toy you’ve never used before. Get familiar with its weight and density and grip, so you know how it affects you before affecting your sub. Make sure to start slow and eventually intensify, always asking your sub if they’re okay in the first place. Be careful with your sub’s pain threshold: since you don’t have direct perception of how much you’re hurting them, try to increase force and pattern a bit at a time.” Lace explained.

Princess felt sure about the directions. Common sense and the guide told her the same things, which reassured her about the fact that she would remember all the complicated passages. Sure, it would be easier to have an actual practical exercise.

But for now she would make do.

“You ready for the next?”

“Yes.” Vixen replied.

Lace tutted. “The question was not meant for you, menace.” She said, reprimanding a grinning Vixen.

Princess cackled. “Sure.”

Lace picked up another object from her bag. “Here we have a paddle. It can have different shapes and textures. Some contain small indentations, or even spikes. The main features are the handle.” She showed the part. “And a flat surface, used to hit the sub. In terms of tenacity and resistance, mine has a hardwood interior covered in a leather exterior. Oh, and it’s branded.” She showed a red leather heart sewn onto the black leather cover. “It leaves a mark.” Lace smiled cutely. “Best used on wide, fleshy surfaces. Questions?”

Princess shook her head. “Oh, yeah. How much is it?”

Lace twisted the object in her hands. “A good one is around thirty five thousand won or so. If you want something that lasts and that is actually covered in true leather, the price might be higher. I could recommend a shop that sells excellent gear.”

“Thank you. Also, you said it comes in different shapes.”

“Yes. A dom in my dungeon has a pretty extravagant one in a cherry shape.”

“With a double sting?” Vixen asks, eyes almost glittering.

“Yup.”

“Amazing. I had spotted it once but I never bought it. Maybe I’ll have it commissioned.” She mused.

“Joon would?” Lace asked, eyebrows raised.

Vixen shrugged. “I just need to be good — or bad — enough.”

“See, darling, this is a brat.” Lace addressed Princess, pointing at the other girl in the room. “Their anatomy is five percent manners, five percent playfulness and ninety percent utterly smart evil.”

Vixen smiled before cocking her head to the side prettily. “Yes, that’s me.”

Princess bit her lip and smiled. Vixen was a lot more interesting than she thought. All those cute manners and polished looks could not entirely shade the dark magnetism of her eyes. She would pay good money to see what ruckus she could cause with Namjoon in the bedroom. And it would be even more interesting to see what poised, calm Lace could do to teach her how to behave.

Lace put her paddle down before fishing something else from inside her bag. “For tonight let’s cover only the basics. I’ll keep more lowkey devices for another time. Or maybe I could show you what I have and you ask me about what looks interesting to you.”

Princess nodded. “That would be lovely. Plus I’m sure you’ll have to get back to Joon since he’ll want to see you before they leave tomorrow.” Princess asked Vixen.

“I don’t know if I’ll see him— oh, that one looks lovely!” She said, looking at a riding crop from Lace’s collection and distracting herself with it. “Yeah, I told him he should stay at the dorms and rest. His week has been hectic with all the briefings for the press conferences and tv shows.” Vixen explained as she picked up the crop, studying the red, heart-shaped bit.

“Yeah, I figure. Jimin and I are meeting for an early breakfast tomorrow, before they leave.” Princess explained.

Vixen’s fleeting gaze moved away. She seemed visibly unsettled. Still, her mood changed once more as she collected Lace’s paddle from the coffee table, the other woman not even noticing one of her devices had attracted Vixen’s attention.

Vixen rolled it in her palm a couple times, shifting it to feel the weight distribution and the texture.

Princess looked at how she studied the object, carefully taking in every detail. Vixen’s perfectionism showed in that exact moment, in the undisturbed, slow way she felt every ridge and stitch with her fingers. If she could think of an adjective it was ‘thorough’, in the first place. ‘Sensual’ in the second.

Raising an eyebrow and biting her lip, Vixen opened her free hand, lifted the paddle and delivered a heavy thwack.

A shiver ran down Princess’s spine. She could almost feel how Jimin would moan after a smack like that.

Lace turned around, looking at Vixen. “Like it?”

Vixen simply nodded with a wicked smile. “Do you know what wood it is?”

“Not sure, possibly birch or cherry tree. Soft wood but very elastic.” Lace sat upright as she was done taking out all of her collection.

“And the leather is splinter-proof.” Vixen commented.

Lace hummed in confirmation. “See anything interesting, Princess?”

Princess creased her brow. “What about the riding crop?”

Vixen smiled mischievously as Lace wrapped her palm around the handle, lifting the object. “Here. This is a personal riding crop. It has been commissioned specifically for me. It’s my favourite and somehow my brand.” She smiled fondly as she studied it. “However, I would say one should never grow fond of a vulnerable thing such as a riding crop. They break fairly easily. Anyway — the general traits of a riding crop are the shaft, the handle and the tip. In terms of length, I normally recommend minimum sixty centimeters, to increase flexibility and impact strength. The shaft should be elastic, but not too much or it loses impact strength and a submissive usually doesn’t want the whoosh without the smash.”

Vixen giggled at her side.

“What is that?” Princess asked, frowning.

Opening her palm, Lace calculated the distance and whipped the leather bit hard against the soft flesh at the base of the thumb. Princess clearly recognised the sound of air whistling before she hit her skin with a thin clap. “That’s what I meant.”

Princess nodded with eager eyes, keeping an amused silence.

“Fiberglass is a good material for beginners. If you’re buying one in person — which I recommend for the first time — make sure that it can make a forty-five degree angle when you bend the tip towards the handle. A forty to fifty degrees with a fair amount of resistance means it’s flexible enough, just make sure that it’s not too close to the breaking point. The handle is normally made of leather or very good rubber to improve the grip. Some cheap riding crops — also, the ones not intended for BDSM purposes — come with a strap to slip your wrist into. I recommend you don’t use the strap or that you remove it completely because first, you shouldn’t need it and second, you should avoid everything that keeps you from interrupting the scene and comforting your sub as quickly as possible. Sometimes even a couple seconds can be very important when it comes to subdrop. Remember this at all time, in all scenes. Remove everything that could keep you from helping your sub.”

“Okay. But if my riding crop falls?”

Lace smiled darkly. “Trust me dear, you’ll hold on to that as if it were the sceptre of England.” Princess laughed. “And if it falls, it’s usually a sign of poor mastering of your tools. Train yourself. You can use a dense pillow to learn the variety of strokes that a crop can deliver. It can be used for sensation play, simply rubbing your sub’s skin, caressing it, spending some time to arouse them before the whipping starts—”

Vixen purred at that.

Princess thought of Jimin biting his plump lips, eyelids fluttering at the gentle touch of the leather tickling his body.

“Are you with me?” Lace called for Princess’ attention, an amused grin on her face. Lace almost wanted to congratulate her for staying focused for so long.

“Yeah, just — thinking.”

Lace exhaled and wore a grin on her face. “I get that. Let me just finish this and we can take a pause. The tip is the important part of the crop. Mine has a fancy, heart-shaped tip, however, the best standard ones have triangular or rectangular tips that are a couple fingers wide on the very tip and restrict around the head of the stick.”

“Sounds nice.” Princess said.

“It is.” Vixen mused. “As Lace said, riding crops aren’t excessively difficult to use, if one has the patience to learn the basics and take some time to experiment. They can offer plenty of freedom to the dom in terms of use since they can be incredibly harsh, but also extremely light and gentle. You can use them on most spanking areas: breasts and nipples, feet, thighs, ass, shoulders and genitals, both male and female. Also the face, if you’re being light-handed enough.”

“Jesus, you’re wicked.” Lace snickered.

Vixen shrugged. “Says you.”

Princess looked at the exchange quite amused. “Okay. I think I got it. Oh, isn’t that a flogger?”

“Yes, it is. But that is for your sophomore lessons. For now, let’s stick to the beginner deals.” Lace said, slowing down Princess’ enthusiasm.

“Oh.” The other answered, taken aback.

“The bigger the toy, the more difficult it is to use it. Floggers, also called multi-tailed whips, are unpredictable because the whips are really flexible, usually made of leather, and very light. You must have excellent wrist flexibility and great spatial awareness. Once you can use your crop with your eyes closed, then you can consider learning the basics of flogging.”

“Okay. I assume canes and that fancy thing over there are off-limit too.” Princess noticed.

“Isn’t that a cat-o-nine-tales?” Vixen said, wide eyed. “It’s been years since I last saw one. Since my training.” Vixen shivered. “He had silver studs on the tips.”

“Did he ever use it on you?” Lace asked, very serious.

“Once. I didn’t speak to him for a week afterwards.” Vixen said, gaze empty. “I’ve never seen one like that in my life, though. Are those flowers?”

“Yes.They have a silver bead in the middle with some petals around it. The effect is very unusual, or so I’ve been told.” Lace answered with a chuckle. “It was a gift from one of my students. Lovely girl. Kinkier than hell.” Lace smiled and took the toy. “See. Those are meant to hurt. Mark or scar even, in some cases.” She showed the appendage to Princess.

“I don’t like that.” She replied with tiny hesitance.

“The cane is also a vicious one.” Lace suggested.

“The first time I safeworded was with a cane.” Vixen said with a meditative smile. “It hurts like hell. Normally I can take around forty to fifty spanks. I couldn’t handle ten with a cane.”

“I don’t think I like that either. My favourite so far are the paddle and the riding crop. I think Jimin likes the paddle, or at least the idea of it. The riding crop is… for personal reasons.”

“Excellent choice.” Lace grabbed a glass of water and drank, easing her mouth and throat after all the talking. “A riding crop can really gratify a dom at their first experience. You can study it, if you want to.” Lace encouraged Princess to hold the toy and look at it from up close.

Princess thanked her before lifting the crop from the table. “It’s very light.”

“Indeed. It’s a lot lighter than a paddle, that’s why it’s a personal favourite to most female doms. Plus it can be used to praise and to punish, making it a tool of great versatility.”

Princess studied the handle, with a thick leather band wrapped around the stick to grant a good grip. Lace, previously standing, bent down behind Princess. “The leather has been treated so to reduce any slipping.” She corrected Princess’ grip around the handle, placing her hand wrapped tight around it and fixing her thumb. “Like this.” Next, she placed the tip on the flat of the opposite hand. “Always make sure that there are no loose stitches here. Make sure that the spot where the tip meets the stick isn’t rough or hard or juts out in a way that could cut the skin.” She fingered the spot, tracing it. “Also remember to check the flexibility, see?” Lace made Princess’ fingers wrap around that spot, making her push it towards the butt of the handle. The sensation was extremely elastic, with a bit of give still, but far more resistance. “That is good elasticity for a versatile crop. Try it on your forearm.” She suggested, pushing Princess’ shirt upwards.

A bit hesitant, Princess lifted her dominant arm up. Lace corrected her stance, repositioning her elbow. “You only need to do a slight rotation of your forearm for now. Keep your elbow still and smack your forearm down, like you were arm wrestling but with more snap.”

Princess nodded, her eyes closing before she let her arm snap. First she heard the ‘whoosh’ of the stick cut through the air, and then the snapping sound, like a dry cracking.

“Good one. Did it hurt?”

Princess tutted. “Not too bad. The bite was pleasing.”

The sound awakened Vixen from her trance. She had been staring at the paddle for a few minutes, thinking.

“Try using it feather-light now. Like it was a make-up brush on your skin.” Lace placed the tip of the crop on Princess skin with the lightest pressure, the touch so soft that the tip didn’t even bend a little to accommodate the skin. It was simply lingering, grazing.

“I really like it. I think I’d love to own one.” Princess said enthusiastically. “Would you come with me if I go buy one?” She looked up to her friend.

“Yes, sure. You have my number, we can arrange someday this week, or whenever you like it.” Lace smiled genuinely. Her cheeks puffed up in round apples.

“I think you should check on Vixen.” She whispered.

The girl was being too quiet. It meant she was thinking. Overthinking, if Lace knew her friend well.

“Are you okay?” Lace moved towards Vixen, looking at her vacant stare, her skittish mood and the insecure nibbling on her lower lip.

“Yeah, I was just thinking...” Vixen replied, still unfocused from her surroundings. “I don’t know if Princess is okay with this. It’s her home, after all.”

“What is it?” Asked the other one, immediately alarmed.

“Would it be awkward if we tried a small simulation? Not a scene, just an exercise. For practice.” Vixen proposed. “If you’re all okay with it.”

Lace studied Vixen’s expression. “What about Namjoon?”

“I could ask him. I think he’s awake, I’ll text him. Ask him if it’s okay with him. This is nothing sexual. It’s just for learning purposes.” Vixen shrugged.

A part of Princess’ brain was already seeing it happen, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “If it’s not too much of a bother, I think it would be really helpful to me if you and Lace tried. I don’t think I want to do it myself, but I’d like to watch.” She admitted.

“Are you in the right mindset to do this, sweetie?” Lace asked. “You’ve been on mood swings the whole night. Are you sure?” Lace asked, seriously concerned.

“Yes, I’m sure. Trust me,” Vixen said, reassuring her friend with a kind smile. “I just need to ask Joon.”

Lace thought about it. Doing such a thing with Vixen of course could be extremely helpful to Princess, showing her how a scene worked, however Vixen’s mood swings suggested that she was looking for reassurance, that she was hoping someone would literally spank her negative thoughts out of her. She probably wanted Namjoon instead of Lace, but maybe this mechanism of simulation and education was what she needed to rein in her insecurities. Vixen was a smart woman, extremely aware of her emotions and the mechanisms to handle them. Lace decided. “Okay. Call him.”

“Let me grab my purse, then.” Vixen stood up and reached for her phone at the dining table. “Thank you”, she said to Lace before unlocking her phone and finding Namjoon’s number on her shortcuts.

“Put it on speaker.” Lace told her.

The three women waited expectantly as the ringing echoed through the small room — Lace with cold ice settling in her veins, Princess with ebullient anticipation and curiosity, Vixen with a certain emptiness in her gaze, her free hand toying with the small pendant laying between her collarbones while she rubbed the flat of her upper chest.

The ringing stopped, followed by a couple seconds of silence.

“Hello?”

-----------------------------------------------

Part two here

[conner-grace]

The Detective and his Little Assistant (part 4)

(Part Index)

Chapter 3: The Plot Thickens

*Warning spoilers if you haven't gotten through 6/13 in the game*

A/N-Before the chapter starts, I want to explain a couple things. First, I chose to make Kaito a witch because I identify myself as a witch, and yes, I do mean witch, not warlock, because witch is, in fact, a gender-neutral term, also due to me being a witch, everything Kito does involved with witchcraft will be based off my own experiences, knowledge, religion and opinions, so please don't tell me I'm wrong unless you can cite a reliable source for your info. Second, for those reading this, who don't know Japanese culture very well, calling someone by their first name without an honorific (-san, -kun, -chan, ect.) unless you know them very well, or they've given you permission, is highly offensive. Please remember these for future chapters :) .

Now to the story.

~~~

Monday, June 13th, After School

*Akechi's P.O.V*

I was listening to the audio data from the pen I downloaded to my phone on the way from the station to work. I was quite happy to see that it hadn't been accidentally turned off throughout the day, despite the likelihood for it to have. I was actually skipping past a bit that seemed to be a personal conversation between her and her friends, though I seemed to be the topic of their talk. If it weren't for my current opinion of Yuno, I might've even blushed at the direction the discussion was going, however, I was disgusted and just trying to get past it.

"Finally." I sigh, getting past it, not surprised that it took up all of lunch. Listening as she head's to pe. "Hmm, who should I ask for help on my homework today?" She either wonders aloud or asks her friends, judging by the steps I heard around her. Her friends offered up names. I quickly realized all the names were all from the top 10 students in the first and second years, 'but most of those kids would never-oh, yeah, blackmail'  I think, my gritting my teeth. 'Wait, thinking about it, not even Kaito-kun would've taken this lying down, so what's she got on him that he doesn't want me to know?'  I knew it as a little self-centered to think I'm the only one who mattered, but it Kaito had in fact told me that my opinion was the only one that mattered to him, and the teachers would never believe any bad rumors about him since he was the star student of nearly every class he was in. He also never cared what any of the students around him thought of him, except, after we became friends, for me. In fact, a couple months after we became friends and before I knew he considered himself a witch by his religion, a kid that that seemed to a rather bad opinion of Kaito-kun and said something about my friend cursing him or something like that. Kaito-kun seemed to not have even heard him, but then froze quickly looked to me, fear flashing through his eye like lightning before he hid it. I realized later he’d been worried about my reaction and trying to hide it. I'd ended up asking if he'd cursed our fellow student, and he'd replied he never cursed anyone, I'd then asked why out of curiosity, and he'd told me it was because cause he was selfish, and since he believed in karma, he didn't want the negative energy of a curse coming back to bite him later.

I felt an earbud pulling me out of my ear, snapping me out of my small trip down memory lane. "Oh don't worry, I've got something special planned for-" I heard through the other earbud as I paused the recording, knowing I'd have to relisten to it later after, hearing an annoyed sigh next to me that I knew belonged to Sae-san.

"Oh, sorry Sae-san. I got lost in thought it seems." I say with a practiced sheepish smile, pulling out the other earbud.

"I hope you know you were so lost in thought you nearly walked into the door." She smirks teasingly. "Maybe you should keep the music for your work-outs only."

"Guess so." I chuckle, remembering the few hours of music Kaito-kun had given for my birthday as well, that I'd put on my phone and started listening to during my early morning runs, and noticing I’d been only a couple steps from walking into the door.

"Well, let's go in then, we've got cases to get to." She smiles.

"Indeed." I smile, opening the door for her.

"Always the gentleman, thank you." She sighs with a smile, walking in.

"Of course, you're welcome." I smile, following in after.

***

Deciding not to listen to the recording until I got to my apartment, considering how I nearly walked into a door the last time I listened to it on my way somewhere. I was heading back to my apartment in the evening light, hoping Kaito-kun had actually taken the advice of my pre-scheduled messages telling him to go to bed…. even if I wasn't following my own advice. I smile, remembering where my mind had wandered before Niijima-san, and how it had ended. My mind started to drift back down memory lane, remembering how after he'd explained why he didn't curse people, he told me he'd actually reported the student for harassing a female classmate. He ran off to the bathroom after telling me that and it took a little while, however, over the next three days the problem student kept having the worst luck. One of the biggest scenes that spread around the school like wildfire, was the when girl he'd been harassing, who was actually quite sweet and quiet for the most part, slapping him across the face before admitting he'd been harassing her, causing him to get suspended. When he came back, he ran towards Kaito-kun and I at lunch, nearly falling on his face in the process, and yelled about Kaito-kun cursing him again, my friend seemed completely surprised and a little lost. Though after he left a sly smirk pulled at Kaito-kun's lips.

"I don't curse people, but I can enhance one's karma." He smirked under his breath, causing me to look at him questioningly.

"So, you had something to do with this?" I asked, though not quite believing he could.

"I'd like to think so. I mean, I did use a spell to make all he's done come back to him three times three." He smirked, snapping his fingers while saying the last word, the problem student tripping over his own feet and falling at the same time, causing his smirk to grow. "I was gonna leave it at the report and try helping the girl, but...he just kept pushing." He sighs.

I learned two things that day; 1: don't piss off the witch; 2: Kaito-kun wasn't all rainbows and shy smiles like I'd seen till that point and I'd even started putting a little more stock in mysticism and such. "I could report you." I smirked, mostly curious to see how he'd react, though not quite sure how that'd go. His reaction surprised me, his face fell slightly, though he tried to hide it as he looked down to his food and started playing with it rather than actually eating it. I'd expected him to just laugh it off, as he did with most things.

"I'd like to see how that goes down, with your rep, it might actually go a bit differently than the 20 or so other accusations." He smirked, though his voice was a little harsh.

"I-I said could, not would." I quickly stated, trying to back peddle out of this point in the conversation.

He’d pinched the bridge of his nose with an annoyed sigh. "Sorry, I'm overreacting, but you wouldn't be the first to report if chose to." He murmured.

"That's a bit obvi-"

"I meant the first I considered a friend to do so." He specifies with a sigh, making me freeze, realizing what the statement meant, 'he's...used to being betrayed, so when the possibility of it happening comes up, he immediately goes on the defensive'

***

I went straight to my computer after locking my door, hooking my phone up to it so I could better analyze and actually edit the recording so I could only keep what was actually important and discard what wasn't, 'like the first disgusting 30 minutes' I think, deleting that time from the file. Starting back at the beginning of Yuno's talk with her friends. "Hmm, who should I ask for help on my homework today?" I knew whoever she asked for help, probably didn't have an actual choice They talked for a few minutes, before settling on a female student who was 2nd place to Kaito-kun in his class, however one of the other friends piped up. "What about Kaito?" I froze, my worries confirmed that he was a target. I could feel my jaw tighten at the insult of them using his first name, especially without an honorific. "Oh don't worry, I've got something special planned for Kaito today." Yuno giggles, the rest joining her. My hand starts curling into a fist 'what the hell did you do?!' I mentally growl before skipping past, and deleting most the silence of the pe class until I heard Yuno talking to the girl she chose for helping with her homework. Judging by the girl's voice, I was right in assuming her victims at least don't feel like they had a choice in helping her. While she was heading to her next her next class, she told her friends about taping notes to Kaito-kun's locker 'so that's why he seemed a little off after school' I think, feeling the leather strain around my fist. Skipping past and deleting her silent work, stopping when I heard them starting on the notes for his locker, saying what they wrote mostly stupid shit, that had me grinding my teeth and wanting to punch them like 'fag', 'looser', 'freak', then I barely stopped my fist from hitting the desk with the last one, "you're lucky we're not dealing with Salem trails stupid witch". Forcing my hand to relax as I buried my head in my hands, knowing if I hadn't been wearing my gloves, my fingernails would be digging into my scalp right now as they continued.

"If that bitch used my pen to write that." I hissed, ending with a growl that many might've described as murderous as I continued listening, not even wanting to think about what else they might’ve done to him.

"Why not just go ahead and tape a picture of a vase of flowers to his locker Yuno-chan?" One of the friends snickered. "I can't do that, Kaito might freeze long enough for Goro-kun to see, or he might actually tell." Yuno giggled.

*SLAM* my hand hits the desk hard enough I might have actually bruised it hearing that. "Do. Not. Use. My. First. Name." I growled, wishing she could hear venom dripping from every word, wishing I could throttle both of them for that considering doing something like that was a way of telling someone to kill themselves.

"Why didn't you use his pen?" One of the friends smirk, causing me to sigh in relief. "Cause if he manages to find out, he'll never forgive me." Yuno sighs.

'Oh-ho-ho, we're way past no forgiveness bitch' I think with a dark chuckle, getting the last bit of evidence and wishing I had a punching bag in my apartment, as I get up and head to the bath to try and calm myself down enough to go to sleep.

 *Akira's P.O.V*

I had just got back to Lablanc after talking with everyone at the dinner, Makoto-san, third-year, and the student council president had figured out who the phantom thieves were.

"You're back-whoa, you look tired. Long day?" Sojiro-san asks from behind the counter.

'You have no idea' I think with a sigh, nodding my head to my caretaker while I was on probation. "Your day any better?" I ask, deciding to strike up some conversation.

"If slow is better, then yes." He says with a slight smirk.

"Heh, well then, guess I'll head up." I say, not having much else I could say to him.

"Actually..." Sijiro perks up slightly. "Do any students from Aoyama use the station as you?"

"Uh, yeah, Akechi Goro, we actually talked a little this morning too." I say, though figuring that wasn't who he was wondering about.

"No one else?" He asks, trying to seem disinterested...and failing.

I thought for a moment, before remembering the smaller boy that ran over to Akechi-senpai. "Yeah, actually, a boy, around my age, but a bit shorter." I answer, I definitely had Sojiro-san's attention, even if he was trying to hide it. "Akechi-senpai introduced him...Sasaki, Sasaki..." I trailed off, trying to remember his first name.

"Sasaki Kaito, he's short and rather shy?" Sojiro-san offers.