Collars, Dynamics & Fucking with Abandon

It’s a funny thing, casual sex. Fucking with abandon. Realising you can share your body, participate in pleasure and not really know the person you’re fucking. Mental and emotional connection are not prerequisites for sex. Open your legs with a closed heart. Let them in without actually letting them in and feel fucking fantastic because of it.

Both worlds do it, sex-positive people and kinksters just talk about it more.

There are a lot of "strange" things on the kinky side of the slash. Many steal a glance and wonder. Daring themselves to understand but not quite sure how to.

How can lashings be enjoyable? How can you feel precious when you’re crawling around on a leash? Slut is endearing? Daddy is your boyfriend? A hand around your throat is an act of kindness? It can be hard to understand. Most don’t even try to comprehend. Just toss the ideas aside as weird, strange and fucked up.

But look closer.

What gets forgotten is that person, on their knees, collared and gagged chose to be there. They’re happy to be there. No one forced them. The only decisions maker in their sex life is them.

Sexual Liberation. Free from the confines of what everybody else deems appropriate. There’s nothing so great in this world as to trust someone so much that you‘re willing to share your perversions with them. There’s a bond and a trust built there that transcends most others. Even with people you just fuck.

Collars, beacons of trust show up at every level of connection. More than the simplistic adornment they seem. More than a strap, a buckle, a rivet and a ring; a symbol that holds more meaning than anything else in one’s arson of filthy props.

Collars can mean anything of course. Ownership, love, protection, submission. Just click on the lips at the end of this post to find the different meanings they hold to other kinksters in the world.

In your dynamic, you get to decide what it means.

Because embellishments and bows, spikes and studs on a material of your choice, wrapped around your neck mean whatever they fuck you want.

Mine sits in a box, hidden from prying eyes, locked away with a piece of me that no one gets to see, but a few. Because to me, they mean trust.

I can't tell you why I leave it there, in that box now covered in dust. That collar holds significance in a dynamic that no longer exists and should I meet someone new, someone worth wearing a collar for, I'll buy a new one and we will decide, together, what it means.

But for now, I fuck with abandon.


This article is part of #kinkoftheweek. Bloggers from everywhere around the world take the prompt from Mollys Daily Kiss.

To read other submissions just click on the lips.