Writing 29M Switch (London, City of, United Kingdom)

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Fear. Two sides to every story...

Note | 92 Comments · 101 Love It | over 3 years ago

The following is 100% true and are each from a different side of the same scene.

THE VICTIM
This may not be the kind of thing you want to read. I've been quite selective with who I talk to about this,
because no doubt some people might find it a bit distressing. If you don't want to read about it, seriously,
you should click the 'back' button now. If you do want to read about it, I suppose the important thing to
remember is, through it all, it really wasn't that bad, when you know everything that's going on. Of course,
nobody was hurt during the making of this rather long blog. Seriously, we're all fine, and very much alive.

Since Friday night, I've been feeling very lucky. Friday was the night that my eyes were opened to a whole
side of this world that until now I'd really only ever thought about. It wouldn't at all be an exaggeration to
say that this one experience pretty much changed my whole outlook on what submission can be.

I suppose they call it fear play for a reason, because quite clearly fear plays a huge part. It's the “play” part
of the name that doesn't seem quite so accurate any more. Whenever I've considered fear play, I've
imagined a controlled scenario designed to make me feel that I have no control, and like I should be
scared, that something frighteningly horrible could happen to me. And I'd play along with it, and enjoy it,
because that's what you do in fear play. I was always sure that I'd be genuinely scared, but still confident
enough in my own safety to not allow myself to be wholly affected by it.

This, it transpires, when it comes to genuine fear play, is only half true. After all, it stands to reason that
you can't have genuine fear play without genuine fear.

This will not be written elegantly. The sentences will not be well constructed. Parts of this will be written
with shaking hands. This will be diifficult for me. So I'm sorry.

My perceptions of what fear play can involve underwent a rather significant change on Friday night.

Friday night was the night I believed, for the first time in my life, that I was about to die.
Today's playlist specifically designed to make me feel comfortable and relieve social anxiety whilst
navigating London isn't helping much. I arrive at a pub I've never been to, in a part of London I've never
been to, and I feel horrible for being late, down to the consistently unpredictable tube system and my own
shockingly poor sense of direction. I feel as though I've already used up both my first and second chances
before I've even sat down.

The facts about these two people are that I only met them recently, but for a reason I'm never able to figure
out, I trust them both immensely. The facts about her are that she has sparkling eyes and soft skin and
tonight she smells of candy floss which I'd later realise takes me back to a cold autumn night on Brighton
pier where I sat on a bench and watched stars in the sky until the sun came up. The facts about him are that
he always appears incredibly fashionable and deliberate in everything he does, and he clearly enjoys
control in most situations but there's undoubtedly a very deep personality underneath it all, and I'm jealous
of how much he doesn't seem to care what people think of him.

The facts about this pub are that it's happy hour, and I'm encouraged to start drinking, although due to my
nervous demeanour, it doesn't take much encouragement. In my head, without even realising it, I invent
something of a subconscious drinking game.

Every time I feel him figuring things out about me without me ever having to say them, I take a drink.
Every time she makes eye contract and it makes me feel so shy that I have to look away, I take a drink.
Every time I feel as though I've said something stupid, I take a drink.

If she holds my glass up with the straw pointed towards my mouth, I pretty much drink until she tells me to
stop, or the glass is empty.

My head feels light and at some point I follow her outside for a cigarette, which she puts out on the palm
of my hand in a way so uncaring that I can't help but find it remarkably appealing. The more the evening
wears on, the more I become aware that I do feel entirely submissive to both of these people, and I do a
very poor job of hiding it.

I discuss the issue of trust with them, try to explain how strange it is that I already feel so trusting of people
I don't really know that well. I joke about it, and say it's stupid, say that it's not as though they're
psychopaths who are going to kill me and eat me.

Every time he points out truths about my misconceptions around my own psychological issues that I hadn't
realised until now, I take a drink.

Every time she touches my hair, I take a drink. Try to ignore the butterflies; they'll pass.

At some point, when it's just me and him alone, I ask him if he's done whatever it is they're going to do to
me before. He tells me, he's done things similar to this, but not this. And he tells me not to worry; he's done
research. I worry.
Later on, she starts to act uncomfortable about something but I don't know what. He tells her not to stop it,
and I hear him saying that if she can't go through with it, she can always go to another room while it's
happening. I hear her tell him that she likes me, and doesn't know if she wants to do this to me.

At some point, when it's just me and her alone, I try to reassure her that she doesn't need to be concerned
about things like that. This kind of thing, it's the kind of thing I enjoy. But in the back of my mind, I'm
thinking, knowing how extreme the stuff that she's done before is, what could possibly be so bad that she'd
be worrying?

She never really answers the question.

I have a few more drinks. We walk back to his flat.

I'm still feeling the slight effects of the drinks by the time the door closes, but it really only results in me
feeling a bit light-headed, and does little to remove the nerves, constantly building as I try to prevent it
being obvious just how scared I already am.

I kind of lose track of what he's doing, but he seems extremely focused and confident in all of his actions,
which is both reassuring and worrying at the same time. She's a bit more playful, and I'm totally distracted
by her as he goes about what could probably be described as preparation.

Somehow, I end up kneeling at her feet in the living room, and I like it, and I don't ever want to move from
here. I look up and she's reading from a sheet of A4 paper, and I just about catch a glimpse of what looks
like a diagram of a blood vessel amidst all the text that she's reading So I ask her if that's what it is.

She doesn't answer. Just tells me it's not for me to look at.

I start to wonder why she would be reading any kind of documentation which involved a diagram of a
blood vessel, and that much text. Then try to prevent myself by panicking by reminding myself where I
am. It works, to a certain extent.

Once the preparation is complete, I'm kneeling on the floor, and my heart's already beating so fast and I'm
already so scared and seriously, nothing's even happened yet.

She's in front of me and he's behind me, and from somewhere, the idea comes up that we should try some
breathplay first. In an instant I've got a length of rope pulled tight across my neck, and for some stupid
reason, all I can think to do is try and tell them that I can't breathe, as if that's not the point. I barely even
last a second before the rope is removed, and they both laugh at me, and I already feel utterly pathetic and
like a total failure. And I realise, I do not want to fail these two people.

I have time for a few deep breaths, and try to compose myself, before he has his forearm around my neck,
and it's even worse than the rope, and seriously, for real, I can't breathe. This time, when he's using his
actual arm instead of any kind of implement, the whole thing feels more brutal. More primal. Instinctively,
I start grasping at his arm, in some futile attempt to relieve the pressure on my throat. A few seconds later,
he releases me, and they're both laughing at me again, and as much as I like the feeling of humiliation, I
hate that I'm not doing better.

Breathing feels good.

He starts work on tying me up with rope, but it's not you usual "tied to the bedpost" kind of thing. Instead,
it's the kind of intricate ropework that most people never get to see, never get to be a part of. It takes a
good few minutes for all of the knots and connecting strands to be tied, and while he's doing it, she stands
in front of me, so close that her body's pushed up against my torso, so close that I can feel how soft and
warm her skin is, and it's comforting.

I pretty much have my head down the whole time while he's tying me up. Somewhere along the line,
without even realising it, I bite her thigh. I don't notice it happening, I don't remember doing it, and I have
no idea what I was thinking when I did it. And I apologise, because honestly, I didn't even know I'd done
it. But she smacks me round the head anyway, hard enough to knock my entire upper body off to one side,
and it feels wonderful, and I want to tell her but I don't know if that's the kind of thing I'm meant to be
saying.

A few minutes of ropework later, I'm pushed down to the floor, and the ropes binding my limbs are tied off
at either end of the room. From my current position, I can just about move my head to see either side of
me, and it's painful, but I can crane my neck to see in front of me. No way to see what's going on behind
me, what's being done to the rest of my body, at all. Despite the generally cruel demeanour throughout,
they still check to make sure I have circulation in my fingers, which makes me feel as though I'm in good
hands.

Somewhere around here he tells me, he won't bother giving me a safeword just yet. He'll just base his own
actions on my reactions. It's no real problem for me; I've played without safewords before, and I'm quite
certain that, based solely on how much I don't want to disappoint, I wouldn't use one anyway.

He disappears off to the kitchen for a few minutes, and she occupies herself with hurting and humiliating
me like I'm her toy. At one point, she kicks me in the ribs, totally out of nowhere and with no warning
whatsoever, and I flinch but I'm happy because I can hear her giggling afterwards. She sits by my legs and
tickles my feet, and it makes my body involuntarily writhe about, to no real avail as I'm tired up quite
securely, until he yells at her to stop doing it. She carries on, and I try my best not to move or make a
sound as I don't want to get her in trouble.

At some point, what I think is a whip is involved. And maybe you're thinking this all sounds a bit tame,
and thinking the opening paragaph of this entry exagerated a little bit.

Seriously. Wait. They're just getting started.

When he comes back, she sits on my legs and he sits next to me, and I turn my head so I can see him. And
he's got a lighter, and an aerosol can.

My heart speeds up a bit.

I know what those two things can do when combined, and I know that he's about to do it, but it's still quite
shocking when he sprays the aerosol into the small flame at the top of the lighter, and it ignites in a huge
burst of fire. It's far from me, but I can still feel its heat. Then, he does it again, but closer this time. And
seriously, it feels hot. Hot, and close.

And then, he starts spraying aerosol all over my back. She starts giggling. I start panicking. Somewhere
around here, I ask him, seriously, please, don't do that. Turn my head away, close my eyes.

Up until now I'd always just assumed, in situations like this, nobody would ever really light it. It's only
around here that I start to doubt.

And then he sprays the aerosol into the lighter again, aimed at my back.

There's a few seconds of stinging pain over pretty much the whole area of skin, and the distinct smell of
burning which lingers for more than a few minutes after the pain has gone.

I start swearing a fair bit. And I'm starting to think, this is probably going to be a lot more serious than
anything I've done before.

She whispers in my ear and checks that I'm okay while he disappears off to the kitchen again and comes
back with a whole set of knives. As soon as they're placed on the carpet and I turn my head back so I can
see them, I start freaking out, and wish I'd kept my eyes closed.

I suppose you'll need a bit of backstory to understand this next bit... Several years ago, the last time I
played with knives, my at-the-time girlfriend cut my torso and legs so badly that I passed out from blood
loss, and needed more than a few stitches to repair the damage. Since then, knives have always been a bit
of a hard limit for me. The idea of knives is enough to scare me, and I've never actually given anyone the
chance to use them on me since then.

They know all of this. They know it's one of the things that scares me most. But then again, they probably
know how much I want to please them.

I don't bother trying to talk them out of it.

He presses one of the knives, a big one with a thick blade, into the side of my neck, and asks me what I
know about my carotid artery and jugular vein. I know enough to know that I don't want a knife too close
to either, and although all of my instincts tell me to move my head away, I force myself to keep still, out of
the fear that a sudden move on my part may lead to accidents with that knife.

He starts toying with me, running the blade under my fingernails and across my fingers with a moderate
amount of pressure as though he's about to cut the ends off, using my hand as some sort of training tool for
her to see how it's done. I fail to keep my hands still, despite knowing the risks, and try to get my fingers
away from the knife, and every time my hand flinches and shudders, I worry that maybe he's out to
accidentally take a finger off. She pretty much just giggles all the way through.

I'm relieved when the knife is taken away from my hands, but not so much when I feel it again pushing
against my flesh, this time on my back. He starts asking me questions, asking if I want to have my finger
chopped off, asking if I had to choose one part of my body to have chopped off, what would it be.

I try hard not to think of all those Saw movies.

I'm panicking. I can feel the knife against my back and it's cold and it's close to my body and it scares me
and he scares me even more than the knife does and around here I realise I've started crying and I want that
fucking knife away from me but there's nothing I can do about it so I just answer, if I had to pick one,
probably a toe.

And he says, it doesn't matter. They've already chosen which part they're chopping off.

He returns to the kitchen and tells her to gather up some things, and to put plastic bags beneath my legs.
While he's still out of the room, she shaves the back of one of my thighs, and I'm trying to make sense of
what's going on. He's still in the kitchen, and I can hear the unmistakable sound of those knives being
sharpened. I'm sure he's doing it deliberately, making sure I can hear it. Building the suspense. The
waiting, it's by far the worst part.

And in my head I tell myself, it's only fear play. This is a scene. They're not seriously going to chop off
any part of you.

And then I ask myself, if that's the case, why the fuck does this feel so real?

He's in the kitchen for a few minutes, while she's whispering in my ear again, and despite how scared I am,
the way she talks to me in her honey voice and calls me the nicest names make me feel like there's
nowhere I'd rather be than my current predicament, and even though I can't move at all, I really wouldn't
want to.

When he returns, he's got those knives again, and he picks up another one and tells me to look at it, asks
me if I know what kind of knife it is. And I start panicking again and ask him, is that a meat cleaver?

He says, it is. Asks me if I know what meat cleavers are used for.
And I answer, they're used for chopping meat.

And I keep reminding myself, they are not going to chop off any part of you.

They're not. Relax.

He tells me he's going to rub some numbing gel on the back of my leg, and pinches me slightly to see if it's
working, while asking if I can feel anything. The third time he asks, I can't feel anything. I'm quite
impressed by how well the numbing gel works, and make a mental note to pick some up.

They start talking to each other, and he tells her that the most important thing is the carpet. The bags need
to be under my legs to stop the blood getting on the carpet. Whatever happens, don't let any blood get on
the carpet. If any blood gets on the carpet, making sure it doesn't stain is top priority. The way he says this,
I can tell he's actually not joking.

He sits on my legs so they're facing each other, both holding me down, and says that he's going to start
with the horizontal cuts, but not so much telling me, as telling her, or maybe just saying what he's thinking
out loud. By now, I'm proper crying, but trying to do it quietly because I don't want to do anything to make
this any less fun for them, or maybe I just want them to concentrate on what they're doing to avoid any
mistakes.

They start cutting me.

I feel the knife press against my skin, and the cold, agonisingly slow sensation as it draws across my thigh,
and it feels deep. Far, far deeper than anything I've had before. I can feel the point of the blade tearing my
skin with every fresh incision, and the warmth of the blood running down my leg. I make a bit more noise
here, but try to keep my head buried in a pillow. I feel pathetic and like I shouldn't be making such a fuss. I
try not to think of the knife and the blood and the fact that I'm bleeding.

I lose count of how many times he cuts me, but when he finally takes the knife away, I'm so relieved and
feel as though I've successfully conquered one of my fears. Still sitting on my back, she's saying how
pretty the wounds look, and it makes me happy that she'd say something like that. He moves to sit in front
of me, and tells me to look up so he can check I'm okay. I do, and through tears I can see that he's got my
blood all over his hands, and fuck, there's seriously a lot of blood there.

But I tell him, I'm okay.

And then I start to realise, we're not done.

He disappears again, back to the kitchen again, and starts talking in what resembles medical jargon to me,
and I can clearly hear the sounds of a pan being heated up. He's saying something about after they do this
next bit, the wound has to be cauterized immediately, saying there's a really short time limit that this next
bit has to be done in. And he's making sure she knows what she's doing, but she doesn't sound confident at
all, and I start to think maybe I need some time out to recover, and I start to think what the fuck does
cauterize mean anyway, and I ask her but she's not listening.

And I remind myself, seriously, they're not going to cut off any part of you.

He returns to the room and tells her to sit on my back, tells her how important it is that I stay still. Tells her
where the first aid kit is. Reminds her that the carpet remains top priority.

I start asking what they're doing, but nobody's listening to me.

She's sounding a bit freaked out and unsure, but he's pretty much issuing orders to her at this point and
telling her exactly what to do.

I'm still tied up and I can barely move and I ask what they're doing but they're still not listening to me.

I'm crying.

And then they start cutting into my leg.

I start screaming pretty much instantly. With every millimetre the blade moves, I can feel it getting deeper
and deeper under my skin, and he's telling her to keep going, and I can feel what seems like a huge chunk
of my thigh being torn from the rest of my body. And they're not stopping, and the knife keeps moving
further and further, getting deeper inside my leg as it travels from the top of my thigh down towards my
knee.

That numbing gel, it works. My leg still feels in pain, a kind of rythmic pulsating sensation, a constant
sting, a horrible unnatural feeling that I've never felt before.

Eventually, long after I feel as though I can take any more, it stops. They're both talking, and they both
sound pleased with the results, as though it's been a success. She sounds excited. She keeps saying "oh my
god".

He appears next to me, telling me to look how well I've done, but I don't want to, so I just keep my head
down and keep crying like the pathetic thing that I am, and I can't even turn my head to look at it. And
when I eventually do, the bit of flesh that he's holding in his hands, it's fucking huge. Several inches long,
and covered in blood that drips down covering his fingers and forearm. And he's telling me, look how well
you've done.

And I stare at it, because I can't believe what I'm seeing. And they've actually done it.

Fuck.
They've actually cut off a chunk of my leg.

He yells at her to get the ice pack on my wound straight away while he's off in the kitchen again. She
sounds a little panicked and freaked out by the whole thing, but she keeps the ice pack pressed down on
my leg, and whispers in my ear, telling me I've done so well, telling me I'm okay now.

Seriously. I can feel the blood pouring out of my leg. Feels like a lot of blood.

When he comes back from the kitchen, I hear him ask her, is she going to have some. She sounds
disgusted, tells him no.

I'm not sure what he's talking about, but I have a vague idea. And I'm thinking, no way would he actually
do that.

I struggle to turn my head to the side, and I see him there, and he's eating my leg. He's chopped off a bit of
my leg, and he's sitting there eating it in front of me. With onions.

And then, out of nowhere, she suggests, "make him eat it". I only protest for a few seconds, because he
agrees, and starts trying to push the bit of my leg that he's just cut off my body into my mouth. I keep my
lips pushed tight together, and I start thinking that things are going too far, and I don't feel good.

And he asks me, is "the scene" as fucked up as I thought it would be?

I never, ever expected anything like this.

He gets up and leaves again, and she's telling him, shouting to him in the kitchen, there's so much blood.

I start feeling nauseous and light-headed, and my vision vanishes from my eyes and all I can see is shades
of purple and black. I decide it's best to talk to her, because frankly, she seems to have a bit of a
conscience. He just seems like a total psychoapth.

And I say her name a few times, and try to tell her that I'm going to be sick, I'm going to pass out.

Neither of them do anything.

I try to tell her that seriously, I really don't feel good, I'm going to pass out any second, I'm losing
consciousness. And for some reason, lying there potentially dying in a pool of blood spilling from the
gaping hole in the back of my leg, I mention that my shoulder hurts.

They both laugh, but nobody does anything to help me.

And I start saying, seriously, seriously, I need to get out. Somebody needs to untie me right now. I'm about
to be sick and I'm about to pass out and I really don't feel good at all. At some point, I use the term
"safeword". Not just on its own, but in a sentence. I tell them, whatever it is, I'm uisng it now. Before I
pass out. All that does is make them laugh at me, and I've never felt like more of a failure than at that
moment. It doesn't matter, anyway. They remind me, I don't have a safeword.

And I start to wonder, why won't they untie me? They've already cut off a bit of my leg and eaten it in
front of me, tried to make me eat it too... Surely there's nowhere we can go from here. This is meant to be
the comedown period. I'm meant to be relaxing. Probably getting some proper first aid. It's over.

So why won't they untie me?

From behind me, still sitting on my legs where I can't see, I hear her voice, and she sounds panicked.
Scared. And she's telling him, he needs to help her. He's cut too much off, and there's so much blood.

He comes back to the living room from the kitchen, and sits next to her. Tells her not to worry, tells her it's
fine, removes the ice pack.

And I hear him say, "o...kay".

I freak out.

They both stand up and I can tell from the tones of their voice that they're panicking, and that this isn't
going to plan. They're clearly both unsure of what they should be doing right now, and due to their own
panic states, neither of them is bothering with me any more. Nobody tells me what's going on, tells me I'll
be okay. Nobody unties me, and I still can't move. And I'm bleeding.

I start to wonder how much research he really did.

She's looking for a phone, and I can hear her telling him, there's too much blood, they need to call my an
ambulance.

My two main concerns at that point are that I may well be dying, and seriously, this is going to make
things between me and them really, really awkward.

And then, in possibly the most horrific moment of my life, I hear him say, they can't call me an ambulance,
not with me in the state I'm in.

I hear them both go into the next room.

I lie there on the floor, feeling ever closer to passing out, silent apart from the occassional sound that
comes with uncontrolable crying, and I try not to picture how my leg looks.
The average human has around ten pints of blood in their body. I try not to remember that a human can
lose approximately 15% of their blood before serious medical complications set in. I try to ignore the fact
that these calculations only allow me to lose about a pint and a half. I try to ignore the fact that based on
her reaction, I've probably already lost that.

My heart is racing, which means my blood is flowing quicker than normal, and that isn't making the
situation any better.

Fuck.

In the next room, I can hear them arguing. She's still telling him, they need to call me an ambulance. He's
telling her, they're not going to.

I overhear him say, "He's new to the scene."

"He's not even going to the munch tomorrow."

"Nobody will even notice he's gone."

In my head, I reluctantly put together what he's saying and come to a conclusion, but it doesn't seem real,
it's the kind of thing people say in horror films, it's not the kind of thing real people in real life actually say
with regards to real people lying in their living room.

Just for the record, I didn't tell anyone I was coming here tonight.

And then I start to think, maybe I'm being stupid. Maybe this is just part of a scene they're acting out. This
is fear play. Maybe they're just acting.

I'm not sure if this is real or not.

I hear her keep protesting, saying they have to call an ambulance.

Then I hear him hit her, what sounds like a real brutal slap. And he tells her that if she just does what she's
told, they'll both be fine.

She was trying to protect me, and he hit her, and he's making her cry, and he doesn't even care, because
he's already made up his mind what they're going to do to me.

I decide it's real.

And shit.
I'm about to die.

Around here adrenaline kicks it. The ropes around my wrists are probably far, far too tight to get my hands
free without damage, but I struggle against the binds anyway, but nothing happens, and I can barely move
any part of my body, but I feel like I'm shaking anyway. And then I remind myself, seriously, you either
get your hand free, or they're going to come in here and kill you.

Literally. Kill you.

It hurts a lot, but I pull my right hand with as much power as I can gather, leaving deep crimson marks all
around my wrist, and for a second it feels like nothing's happening, but then my right hand comes free
from the knot. Then the same with my left, which is easier because the ropes are looser now that my right
hand is free, but that wrist still gets rope burns in the process. I turn around and start tugging at the ropes
around my legs, but I have no idea how they're tied and it just seems to be getting tighter and I really,
really, really don't want to die like this.

I'm crying and my hands are shaking and I don't even know where to start getting my legs free.

Someone comes back into the room but I can't see anything and I'm still tied to a radiator and I'm crying
more than ever and shouting something but I don't know what.

And then I miss a few seconds.

The lights are on and I'm sitting with my head against my knees and my arms wrapped around my legs,
and I can't talk or move or stop shaking. He's somewhere else but I can hear his voice, and she's next to
me, holding me and it feels okay. I stay there and it literally feels like hours, and I'm crying.

He tells me, I'm okay. Tells me to feel the back of my leg, it's fine. But I can't bring myself to do it,
because in my mind, if I touch the back of my leg, all that I'll feel is a gaping hole, maybe touch the
muscle, maybe touch the bone, look at my hand again and see it covered in blood. I can't bring myself to
touch my leg, so I just shake my head, and keep crying, and they're telling me I'm okay but I won't accept
it.

And in hindsight, I have to admit for feeling a bit ridiculous at just how naive I was. I haven't been cut. I
haven't had a bit of my leg taken off. They were never planning to kill me.

And I feel stupid, because all they did was feed my mind, and let my imagination do the rest. The
combination of their believable acting skills, and my inability to turn my head and actually see what was
going on, was the perfect combination to let me convince myself this was all happening, and make me
believe it was all real.
Maybe if I was a bit calmer, I would have questioned all of this a bit earlier. I guess I lost my logical head
a while back. It only takes a little bit of panic for me to lose all my rational thought, and for the
imagination to start making me believe the worst.

Even after I take all this in, I still don't stop freaking out.

A duvet and a cup of tea later, I feel better, but I can barely move and I've got no energy, so I just want to
sleep. I'm laughing and I'm relieved because I'm alive.

The next morning I'm actually so, so happy that I went through that, and that it was with these two people
in particular. I feel like I'm on a bit of a high for the next few days, and everything just kind of feels good.
The "drop" comes about 48 hours later, and for real, it's by far the worst I've ever had it. But it still all feels
sort of worth it. I don't talk much for the next week or so.

Pretty much, I feel like it was nothing short of a life changing experience. I feel like my perceptions around
fear play have been totally rearranged, and the fact that I got to go through my first real experience of this
with two people so talented, so good at it, I really can't help but feel like I'm the luckiest person in the
world for having that experience.

And everything in the world looks just a little bit different.

THE REALITY
So what really happened there?

For me, it's as much about the preparation as it is the actual scene. For an hour long scene, I may be doing
3 weeks preparation - as I'll explain. For me it's about working out how to make it feel as real as possible
and being aware of as many possibilities as possible to keep things on track, the way I want them.

This scene was particularly challenging and is far and away the most detailed and extreme I've ever tried -
so who better to try it on than someone brand new to the scene!?

I've talked before about how fearplay is about the "what if" factor, and when all your senses are telling you
one thing - trust typically goes out of the window - along with logical reasoning...

I came up with the idea about three weeks ago after the line in American Psycho "I ate some of his brain".
I decided to talk to my sub @DollyBoo about it and we decided to do it to @PennieBlack - from Dolly
words, "just about the only male sub I've ever met who doesn't just follow orders, but actually goes out of
their way to make a Domme smile." - Dive in girls!

So, planning started. The basic premise? I wanted to make him think that I was carving away his flesh,
cooking it, eating it and then killing him afterwards. Hannibal Lecter at his best.
The outcome? It worked...

The Walkthrough

I pre-cut a slice off the top of a piece of pork belly so it was mainly the skin, but with a bit of visible flesh
on the other side. Pork is what surgeons practice on and the skin colour and texture is extremely similar to
human flesh. Cooked human flesh smells and tastes like bacon.

I put the meat in a bag under a cushion along with a bottle of fake blood. Both needed to be slightly warm
to the touch in order for the temperature to be realistic. Dead meat feels very different to live flesh.

The plug system and fairy lights distraction trick I have set up for later is arranged and ready.

There is a small jug of water beside the hob.

I drew out a rough run through on paper to get vague idea of the order things were going to go in, so I
knew where everything was . I included alongside this loads of diagrams of the human leg and cross
sections like this: Leg Steak. This meant that, from a distance he could see diagrams of the anatomy of the
leg, with me talking about the biology and "science" behind skin/flesh damage and all the planning
towards this "new direction I was trying" over the weeks... So I must be "able to do it pretty safely because
I've researched it".

Dolly needed to have a copy as well, so she could follow along because she was playing the supporting
role - more specifically the Domme who, as the scene got more intense, started to really have second
thoughts about it and trying to make me stop. I am the calm, precise psychopath.

I collected together rope and tied his arms above his head. Then tied rope between his arms behind his
head so he couldn't look back and see what was happening - could only see what I wanted him to see, in
front and beside him. I tied the rope from his wrists to a secure point on one side of the room. I tied his
knees and ankles together and tied that rope to the other side of the room so he was stretched out and flat
on the floor.

I asked a couple of questions about family heart condition history, blood pressure and BMI.

I did a bit of breathplay with a rope pulled across his throat and spent ten minutes or so doing some basic
knife play and verbal interaction, with Shannon giving some humiliation and a little pain.

"This isn't enough. I'm taking this further".

I gave Dolly some bin bags and told her to lay them down on the floor underneath him and then to fetch
the carpet cleaner, sponges, a bowl of warm water, shaving foam and a razor.
Once the bags were laid down and pulled under him, I told Dolly to put the carpet cleaner and sponge
nearby and to "make sure no blood goes on the carpet - that is number one priority. I don't care what
happens. Make sure my carpet isn't stained."

I had her sit on his back and shave an area at the top, back of his leg - so he couldn't twist round to see it,
but could see the blood pooling and the end of the blade while I was working.

Perfectly shaved to match the smooth flesh of the pork belly.

I put on a white doctors mask and then squeezed some sunburn lotion, which makes the skin slowly feel
colder from a small tube into a kidney dish and then showed him the dish and let him see me dip 3 needles
into the liquid and leave them ready. I told him that "topical anaesthetic cream" works better when injected
under the skin. The kidney dish and needles were put aside. I wouldn't need them again.

I took a chopping board with a selection of knives laid across it and began to drag a carving knife slowly
along a knife sharpener.

Pushing all the knives but one aside I got a frying pan and, peeled and chopped an onion and crushed some
garlic, then dropped it all into a pan.

I took the pan to the hob and set it down. Turning the back left burner to full and the back right burner to
its lowest. I set the pan on the front, the loud burning of the high burner clearly audible.

Dolly and I put on Latex gloves and took the tube of sunburn lotion again and she applied it to the back of
his leg, talking to me about alcohol swabbing. Then I used 3 new, sterile needles to just pierce the top of
the skin in three places, in a triangle. Then let him hear me drop those needles also into the kidney dish.

I went back to the hob and took the pan and emptied it onto a plate - everything still raw - but he doesn't
know that.

I go back to his leg and pinch the area. "Feel anything?" Yes.

Leave it 20 seconds. Pinch more lightly. "Feel anything?" A bit.

Leave it 20 seconds. barely touch the skin. "Feel anything?" Not really.

"Good, the anaesthetic is working well".

I open the bag of meat and the bottle of fake blood and place them down.

Then back over to the hob I move it to the low burner and stand, talking to Dolly and the panicking Pennie
about what was to happen next. The pan has to be on the hob for 30 seconds. I've tested this multiple times;
once it leaves the hob It's still warm a minute later, but not enough to burn. I'm still watching the clock - 20
seconds on the low burner so far. I pretend to pour oil into the pan with one hand, but subtly poured a little
water directly over the flame of the burner on full, making it hiss and spit.

"Excellent" then take the pan and set it, upside-down on the chopping board beside our little Pennie.

I've got about 1 minute.

I take a blunt knife and Dolly sits on his back. I draw an outline of an oval shape on the leg with it, then
make a cutting movement with the back of the blade at the top. Then I drag the knife at an angle scrapping
over the skin, all the time while I'm every so often dropping the pork meat onto the leg and Dolly is
pouring blood over my hands and the meat which is running over the knife blade and down his leg creating
a red pool.

"Brilliant, you're doing so well Pennie!"

I take the pan and throw the meat onto the chopping board with a splat. I shout at Dolly to clear up that
fucking blood and check the heat of the back of the pan on my forearm - perfect.

I press it down onto the back of his leg for a few seconds; "the wound needs to be cauterized immediately"

The pan comes off and Dolly gets some ice and presses it on the crying Pennies leg; "it'll ease the pain",
she's comforting him and he's begging, but she's not listening. Apparently his shoulder hurts; which gets a
laugh out of us.

I show him my hands and the slab of flesh drenched in blood and tell him to look and see how well he's
done. He can see the the blood dripping off the knife and bits of residue meat attached to the blade. He
doesn't want to look. He just wants to cry, but with a little persuasion, eventually, he looks and utters "oh
fuck, oh fuck, oh my god".

I rinse the flesh under the sink and drop it into the pan back on the hob and add the onions and garlic. "A
dash of red wine. Some black pepper. Delicious."

The meat begins to sizzle as it cooks and turns that perfect colour and the smell is fantastic.

Dolly is panicking "Patrick, there's a lot of blood still, this is really bad"

"He's fine just keep the ice there"

"Seriously, you've cut too much away - look"

"Dolly, it's fine - do you want some of this?"

"Uergh no"

"Fine, I'll have it. Can you shut that little shit up please?"

I put the cooked meat onto a plate and dribble some of the juice from the pan over and add some rosemary
and tiny salad leaves beside for perfection, then take it over and sit by them. Offer Dolly again, to refusal
and then start to eat. Tearing the flesh away from the fat with my teeth.

"Patrick, look at it, it's too much, he needs an ambulance"

"OK... Let me see...... OK, shit that is deep. Get a phone. No fuck, we can't call an ambulance."

"We have to!"

"LOOK AT HIM, OF COURSE WE CAN'T CALL A FUCKING AMBULANCE... OK, alright, we can
fix this, come with me"

I take Dolly into the next room and while she's rubbing up against me we're shouting and arguing about
what we are going to do. She's hysterical. I punch her in the stomach.

"He's new to the scene. He's not even planning to be at the munch tomorrow - nobody is even going to
notice he's missing. We have to, just do as you're fucking told and we'll be fine"

We come out of the bathroom to find Pennie curled up, desperately trying to free his legs from the rope.
Covered in blood. He's managed to tear his arms out of their bindings - with quite some rope burn in the
process and is clearly petrified.

It's time to bring this to a close. We both go to him, support and hug him and help him calm down - despite
him at first not being sure whether to trust us. I explain to him it was all fake, that there wasn't a single cut
and that it was pork meat. I tell him to feel his leg and that he's fine - he's still scared to even check.

His sub drop was immense, but he can tell you about this from his point of view.

There had been more to come - involving double bagging some bin bags and a plug socket distractions
using a power saw "easily powerful enough to cut bone, but unfortunately very messy", making him think
he was going to be placed neatly into bin bags, to be disposed of later.

But I think, all things considered, that would have been going just a little too far...

92 Comments (leave comment)

 Mika_Onida: over 3 years ago | report | delete
Wow... way too much for me but totally awesome mindfuck.

SheDeity: over 3 years ago | report | delete

I think I love you

Zenla: over 3 years ago | report | delete

You sick fuck.

IndomitableShrew: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Oh my god! That is horrific, and brilliant, and...wow!

How was Pennie in the weeks following the passing of his sub-drop? I've done some pretty heavy scenes
and it amazes me that once the sub-drop passes, the anguish somehow turns to amazement and pride in
oneself. I think heavy scenes do a lot to build ones confidence.

BTW, there is nothing wrong with a cannibalism fetish. /crosses arms petulantly

Xylabion: over 3 years ago | report | delete

<laughing @ Zenia>

@Indeliblemarker... I knew there was a reason I liked you! Excellent execution and writing - the 1st
section particularly...doing exactly what it say on the tin. ;-)

I'm a little intrigued, of course.... Cooked human flesh smells and tastes like bacon.
How do you know?

ScleralDarkness: over 3 years ago | delete

@Xylabion http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_does_human_flesh_tas…
Enjoy :)
 ScleralDarkness: over 3 years ago | delete
@KaterinaMinola He didn't sleep that night, I remember we woke up in the morning to find him kneeling
in the same spot by the window staring out of it that he had been in 6 hours earlier.

He explained to me that coming so close to genuinely thinking he was going to be killed was life changing
but he went through a whole range of other emotions.

He said he felt angry and self loathing at the fact he had been dragged into it so much and that he hadn't
trusted that he was going to be fine, despite being told he was safe.

He felt relief and happiness almost like he was getting a "second chance".

He sub dropped of course, and was in a bit of a daze for a very long time. I'm not sure whether there was
an element of pride, there may have been... But you have to remember, he tried to safeword and then
Houdini'd on me!... Literally ripping the skin off the back of his hand to get out of the ropes.

wildrosebuds: over 3 years ago | report | delete

gobsmacked... you each have my admiration for your courage and skill both in the scene and the write up.
An awesome eye-opener!

Xylabion: over 3 years ago | report | delete

They claim female flesh tastes considerably better than male...
Age and sex many play a role as well.
See? I told you... ;-)

MACXX1: over 3 years ago | report | delete

INTERESTING,,,,

yara_Excalibur: over 3 years ago | report | delete

wow... I can only imagine how he felt, a piece of art....

MR-Excalibur: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Mindfuck of the century. perfect

Pinkdiamond01: over 3 years ago | report | delete

I agree with SacredSubArtist, A wonderful work of stomach churning, 'why the fuck I am reading
this...Scroll down 'is he dead'...scroll up....no no just follow the narrative.....harrowing but fabulous....

Emanix: over 3 years ago | report | delete

I've had this tab open for a few days in the hope of finding something sensible to say about it. Fascinating
work of art. Very impressed by the level of detail and intricate planning, and genuinely not sure which side
I'd rather be on.

Ananke-: over 3 years ago | report | delete

I remember reading this on (the other board) a while ago, and have shown it to a few people since. Truly
pulse raising.

mootygirl: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Following @ThatAnanke. It's hard to write something coherent after reading this note, but comment I must
.. This is an astonishing piece of writing detailing an incredible level of planning. Eye opening, pulse
racing and hard to read - huge thanks to all involved for sharing this.

Clara_Binchy: over 3 years ago | report | delete

What a scene! The feeling of humilation for Pennie is what really strikes me about this. Really soul
wrenching.

etty: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Thank you for sharing- I found myself holding my breath most of the way through. I love fear play but
have never quite got to that point where I've believed I was in mortal danger. Kudos to you all!

bip0lar: over 3 years ago | report | delete

oh sweet lord, what a scene indeed. Thank you for sharing this and feeding other people's brains too... Well
done, to all of you.
 azrayel_: over 3 years ago | report | delete
I will always love this.

T5Tart: over 3 years ago | report | delete

you Sir are an evil genius

SecretLifeOfToys: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Poor guy... I suspect you've ruined him for playing with many other people now. :)

Even all these years along, I remain curious enough and frightened enough of you to keep the possibility of
our meeting at the same static point. I very much doubt you'll remember, but you were the first person I
ever memoed on Informed Consent, back when you were still in Nottingham. It must be over 4 years ago
now.

ScleralDarkness: over 3 years ago | delete

Wow, how do you remember me!? Yes, that would indeed have been well over 4 years. Still, I was the first
person you memoed? You clearly have excellent taste.

I'm sure I was quite different back then, I certainly was doing fearplay as extreme as this... I don't even
remember what my specialities were at that point...?

SecretLifeOfToys: over 3 years ago | report | delete

My memory is a bizarre combination of blindingly brilliant and horrendously appalling... I remember your
main profile picture, but I'm not sure about the things you were really into... rope was a big thing for you
then, and I remember reading about your martial arts interest and also about your lovely lady at that time. I
messaged you because you were the most articulate person who was close to me both geographically and
in age. We exchanged a few emails, but I don't think it was anything of any depth. :)

I spend more time in London these days, so perhaps our paths will finally cross at some point soon. :)

ScleralDarkness: over 3 years ago | delete

I think I know funkdup... But I'm not very good with names.
Rope is still a big thing for me, but I don't practise it publicly any more - I don't like what its turned into in
the London scene. Aside from that, I do go to some events in London so perhaps you'll run into me.

That's an interesting perception you had of me. Justified yea, but interesting.

ScleralDarkness: over 3 years ago | delete

Thanks for <3 's. I'm impressed people have managed to read through to the end of this blog; the first half
is quite slow moving...

Sensually_Me: over 3 years ago | report | delete

OMG

anonymity90: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Throughout reading the first half, I was playing the "I wonder how they did that" game. I am pleased to
say, I figured out a few things before you revealed your magician's secrets.

anguissette_dia: over 3 years ago | report | delete

WOW - Just wow

pixel_princess: over 3 years ago | report | delete

I've now read this both on IC and here and emailed the link to my other half...so curious about fearplay :)

dannigirl: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Very scary, and incredible planning.

Mr_Universal: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Awesome to see this again :D

Miss_Ellie: over 3 years ago | report | delete

This is just amazing!

american_girl: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Worth another read. Fear still isn't my thing, but you do it incredibly fucking well, it seems.

funkdup: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Yup, you do know me. I made you proper coffee at the Summerhouse...

ScleralDarkness: over 3 years ago | delete

@funkdup yeah, I knew once I looked at the profile who you were. I can do faces. I can't do names. I can
do faces hard.

Sthetic: over 3 years ago | report | delete

You know, I've never actually managed to read this the whole way through, although I've tried a couple of
times over the last two years. I heard the victim's side firsthand a week or so after it happened (and over
large quantities of alcohol) but I've never been able to handle it in print.

U R well hardcorer than me, Inky. Innit.

ScleralDarkness: over 3 years ago | delete

@Sthetic don't worry, I'll give you hugs when I see you next and stroke your hair to make the mean words
go away. Alternatively, man up bitch.

Sthetic: over 3 years ago | report | delete

To be perfectly honest I think that you stroking my hair would make itworse. :p

LadyHibiscus: over 3 years ago | report | delete

I thought this would be a tl:dr, but EXTRA LULZ. Total genius. Yes.

I would totes do something like this. Laughing maniacally. Wheeeee!

 ScleralDarkness: over 3 years ago | delete
That comment pretty literally the single most irritating thing I've ever read. Congrats.

grasshoppertml: over 3 years ago | report | delete

You're a mad bastard. I always forget.

Marijn_: over 3 years ago | report | delete

That was pretty incredible. Not just what happened, but also the writing.

littlemsdisaster: over 3 years ago | report | delete

wow...just wow...

kuriouslilkitten: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Oh Gods... I may have nightmares now... I don't know if I could handle even a portion of that without
going insane...

Norwegianjesus: over 3 years ago | report | delete

I don't think I'm a good enough actor to pull something like this off. Makes good reading though.

discordantheart: over 3 years ago | report | delete

What an incredibly thought out mindfuck.

PennieBlack: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Oh, we did get up to some crazy misadventures.

MissIndepend-nt: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Followed Marijn. Wow, had to think about this one for some days before I could reply. First of all; kudo's
(or props, or hails whatever) for the planning and being able to make it so real. Pushing it beyond....well,
every limit. Sick but wonderful!! Second; indeed the writing is very good as well.

@Akahige, you probably read this already, of not please do.

@1318-16 I know we talked about fear, emotions, and submerging yourself into the scene. This take's it to
a new level.

I'm really curious how the "victim" is doing now.

D-503: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Wow. I read this a while ago but forgot to love it or leave any crumbs. I had it bookmarked in my old
phone and just spent an age tracking it down to look over it again. Well worth it though, amazing story.

Halo22: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Fascinating....

xrubysohox: over 3 years ago | report | delete

i love how fucked up this is. you are amazingly twisted.

ScleralDarkness: over 3 years ago | delete

@xrubysohox I warned you...

Gutsyruu: over 3 years ago | report | delete

I remember reading this awhile back and was quite terrified by it (except now I am filled with curiosity and
intrigue). When you talked about the things you've done and that you had written about it, this piece of
writing was the first thing that came to mind. Clearly there was something in here that stuck with me.
You're definitely twisted and brilliant.

Babefiend: over 3 years ago | report | delete

What a fabulous piece of writing and an incredible story to tell. Gutsyruu summed it up perfectly – twisted
and brilliant, truly brilliant. So well thought out and planned, makes me wonder what other devious plots
and plans live up in your mind? That combined with your evident acting skills make you diabolical. I don’t
know that I could commit to a scene in that way.

I loved hearing it from both sides and finding out some of your tricky trickster tricks – oh the mind is a
wonderful thing, in the right hands. I trust your sub has recovered well and continues to love life? The
emotions he must have gone through in the days to follow must only ever be experienced by a select few,
that sense of renewal. It makes me wonder how I would react?

Thank you for sharing, my mind is still whirring!

Donna_: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Thanks for sharing this, it's an inspiration. I love the elaborate planning.

Red_Kraken: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Wow! Amazing. Thank you for sharing this with us all. Know I know why I felt a little uneasy around you.

Breadcrumbs for Kinkymuchkin, be careful who you bump into!

ScleralDarkness: over 3 years ago | delete

@Kraken_awakes I made you feel uncomfortable? Well, what a charmer you are...

Red_Kraken: over 3 years ago | report | delete

No you didn't make me uncomfortable, just uneasy. Its not the same thing. I did not intend to offend

StitchLips: over 3 years ago | report | delete

watches making everyone feel uncomfortable

ScleralDarkness: over 3 years ago | delete

@Kraken_Awakes to someone like me, it's a compliment.
 Red_Kraken: over 3 years ago | report | delete
@Indeliblemarker OK, now I'm uncomfortable.

StitchLips: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Can this be like a mindfuck. Ineniblemarker has to say "actually now I am offended" Kraven apologises
and Inebiblemarker says "its okay really" then Kraken insults him again....lol (only teasing Kraven x)

ScleralDarkness: over 3 years ago | delete

@broken-princess No.

StitchLips: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Oh.

jackwhipper: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Nice work :)

Hants_succubus: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Ooooo. I like. Now if only I can get someone to..... Hmmm.

ScleralDarkness: over 3 years ago | delete

Not this one as it's done, but I still have plenty of fearplay concepts up my sleeve.

Cheers @jackwhipper - hopefully see you soon mate. Kisses!

Red_Kraken: over 3 years ago | report | delete

@hants told you that you should have come to the munch. Have i mentioned hes sex on legs too? X
 Hants_succubus: over 3 years ago | report | delete
Fuck ..... Well it's my birthday soon ;).

wooh: over 3 years ago | report | delete

WOW.... I mean... WOW....

Firefly10: over 3 years ago | report | delete

Hmmm different, definitely got my attention! i found my imagination going a bit wild hahaha

Loffel: over 2 years ago | report | delete

I envy your meticulous nature, this is fantastic. Thank you!

lil_puddles: over 2 years ago | report | delete

holy fuck swoons ive had some pretty intense mind fucks, but nothing on this. I've got something to wish
for... or not.... hmmmmm

river_saffron: about 1 year ago | report | delete

Amazing... one dreams of a scene like this.

marnen: about 1 year ago | report | delete

HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT. I want to do this to someone now.

SordidPeach666: about 1 year ago | report | delete

That was beautiful, thank you for sharing.

tomkat1982: about 1 year ago | report | delete

Hats off to you indeed old boy, that's a beauty!
 Jin_: about 1 year ago | report | delete
I love creative thinkers. This is one brilliantly constructed and executed piece of work. Bravo.

F-R-O: about 1 year ago | report | delete

Absolutely amazing!

I was not fully aware of how much I was turned on by this until the end of 'the Victim' point point of view;
until I released the breath I had been holding and realised how wet I was.
Thank you Sir.

Fear play has only intrigued me after my Mistress suggested I try it. I could not agree as I could not be
scared of those I trusted and loved. The contradiction just did not sink in as a possibility.

Mistress Sadie arranged a wonderful scenario many months later when all details of our conversation had
been forgotten.
She was not a primary role but oversaw everything without my knowledge.

Knowing she was NOT there to protect me was probably the point which tipped me over the edge.
THIS action made me understand how my submission to her made me so fulfilled.

I would love to play with fear again but until that day comes, I'll try to follow your example and put my
own experience into words.
Thank you so much for waking a desire that has been dormant for 20 years.
J

F-R-O: about 1 year ago | report | delete

@Willtom - Thank you for bringing this to my attention.
J

OurEcstasyx: about 1 year ago | report | delete

Breadcrumbs. I absolutely adore this writing, and I can't even imagine being in such a state of fear. I hope
to one day experience something in which I can grasp a better understanding of what it feels like to think
you're going to die.

Very well done.

 SiberianT: about 1 year ago | report | delete
OMG. Wow, what a read! Truly well done, and well written about. I am still a bit light headed from
reading the victim portion. Wow, again.

What a great, great mind you have to construct a scene like this and carry through with it so very
convincingly.

submissive_one_63: about 1 year ago | report | delete

omg... wow.. what a read is right... feel very sick to my stomach... good thing i don't eat pork meat.. lol
well that kind anyway...

p0cketbaby: about 1 year ago | report | delete

Fuck... Just fuck.

Adorare1114: about 1 year ago | report | delete

that is probably the most singularly scary thing I have ever read. And if I hadn't been pointed here via link
(spoiler at that!)...I would have been too sick to read all the way through. Amazing...fucked up...and...well
yeah, really fucked up.

Sebastian: about 1 year ago | report | delete

Absolutely love this head fuck I have done one similar a long time ago but this was much better planned
out than mine congratz

UtterBastard: about 1 year ago | report | delete

Very amusing :)

stillpure1: about 1 year ago | report | delete

wow, Thats amazing. I can only imagine the fear. I like head fucks but I know I would have to fully know
and trust the people that were involved. Not sure that I could do it with strangers.
 leinaya: about 1 year ago | report | delete
:)

Silvano_Bastardo: about 1 year ago | report | delete

Brilliant.

EVOLed_Rise: 9 months ago | report | delete

For fucks sake this is incredible.