Cleaning Out My (BDSM) Closet

Good evening lovelies,

I wrote this afternoon about the need to sort out out BDSM toys and I felt perhaps I should write a post about some of the emotions that I experienced while doing so. BDSM is often talked about as this interesting, sexy, roleplaying game, but there can be some incredibly intense and confusing emotions raised, both inside of play and out of it. Here are some that I experienced today:

Sadness

One of the first emotions I experienced was sadness. Cleaning out our toys meant parting with some of the toys I’d once loved and cherished. Before I started this task, I made a list of the top 5 toys I liked the most and I asked Wolfie to do the same. The riding crop, pinwheels and claws were on both lists and the floggers, blindfold and cuffs were also saved. For everything else though, it was judgement day.

Apathy

I have to be honest, when I opened the silver case, there were a number of different toys and a number of different feelings. For the nipple suckers, the time had come to say our farewells. I also plucked out all of the butt toys and placed them in a To Be Decided pile. I didn’t feel anything for them, and I’d never been massively into anal play.

“This is the one we use when we do do it” Wolfie said, holding up the translucent purple beginner’s plug. My voice caught in my throat when I remembered the time I’d used the suction cup base to sucker it to the bedside unit and left it to dry after a cleaning. Him holding it in the air like a prized diamond was more than retribution enough for the audacious moment that I’d once put him through.

“and this one is a bit.. ambitious?” he said, holding up the black anal prober.

“That part is,” I said, pointing at the wide base, “but that’s okay” I added, tapping on the narrow tip.

“Oh?” Wolfie asked, astonished.

I snatched it out of his hand and slammed it into the For Keeps pile. No further questions.

Loss

One of the toys that really hasn’t fared so well from our collection is our bungee rubber flogger. For years, the bungee flogger has been a favourite of ours, owing to its long, heavy, sweeping sensual strokes. Don’t be fooled though, they can be used to deliver both a sensual sweep and a stinging blow if a sadist so wishes to!

Holding up the flogger, some of the throngs were dirty, some were knotted together and some were snapped. Admittedly, storing our toys in a secret bottom of a storage ottoman had hardly been the best solution to saving space, but it seemed like an idea in the moment.

“Oh Big Bruvva, what have we done to you?” I lamented.

“Could it be replaced?” Wolfie asked. Sure enough, Trussed UK is still alive and going strong and a replacement flogger (which will be better cared for) will only set us back £12. With that in mind, I made a note to invest in a new flogger after Christmas. I felt a fair bit better after that.

Nervousness

As well as what has been and gone, there was also what lies ahead. Tearing out the perforated hole of the latex gloves, I quickly stuffed them to the bottom of the metal case. I’ve made peace with what is, with the thoughts that I have and their existence, but it doesn’t mean to say that the gloves don’t fill me with anxiety. Them, and a night of curiosity (or a bad move) are all that lies between me, fantasy and reality, and there was no guarantee that reality would be so enjoyable for me after all.

Excitement

As well as a mix of negative emotions, I did feel a pang of excitement when I saw my Bad Kitty Butterfly Nipple Clamps. They were so pretty and I remembered that I loved wearing them. During my childhood, I hated having a flatter chest than many of my peers. Now, I have a smaller, perky breasts, and the butterfly clamps are the most perfect accessory. I also knew how much Wolfie loved my small but perky breasts, so I should wear the clamps more in the new year.

As we wrapped up, I held up the two leather collars that remained. The studded one, and the one without.

“This one,” Wolfie said softly, taking hold of the simpler black collar with a silver heart at the centre, his smile told me all that I needed to know. In spite of my ordering the studded collar for a costume party, he’d always wanted me to have a collar of the same design, but without the studs. In the months since, I’d successfully been able to purchase it, the very collar that he held in his hands.

“This one is the prettiest.”

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