Tied And Flogged: A Ticket To Subspace
There are many many descriptions of what subspace is like, out there. But this one from Holly is a good one:
Then I’m tied, and he starts out with just his hands, running up and down the length of my body, warming me up, waking me up to the feeling in my skin. It’s sweet and sensual and gentle, and at the same time just a little frightening, knowing he’s priming me to fully feel what comes next.
What comes next is the flogger. The first time it lands on me it’s soft, just a dusting, soft flexible leather gently stroking down my back. The next time is not quite as soft. Soon the flogger is landing hard and fast on my shoulders, my back, my ass and thighs. It’s not truly painful–I’m not much into heavy pain–but it’s a constant pounding, a warm slap into my muscles each time the tails land on my skin.
And then–WHAM–I’m in subspace. It’s that strangely detached place I go when I’m high or heavily drunk, when I’m under hypnosis, and during intense sex; I’m aware of everything that’s going on and can think about it lucidly, but my reactions are not lucid and there’s a powerful sense of otherness to the experience, a folding in on myself, a shift to an emotional parallel universe. I’m nearly limp in the ropes, and aware of my limpness, but unable or unwilling to compose my body. I can sort of babble out words with great effort, but without that effort I just moan. For reasons I can’t possibly explain, it’s wonderful.
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