Hide One | The Flesh Archives

I first met Bunny at a queer bisexual camping event in the summer of 2023. I was there to give a workshop on building floggers out of repurposed household items and had brought along a selection of my own impact toys to demonstrate the variety of sensations people could experiment with.

My collection that day included a thick leather strap with welted holes, a boarding school tawse, a riding crop, a rainbow-colored baseball bat, a few floggers of varying weights and materials—and, tucked among them, one vampire paddle.

A vampire paddle is a spiked instrument that resembles a normal paddle, but is laden with spikes that draw & splatter blood when bashed against the flesh of a willing bottom. Blood play is edge play, in the sense that it isn’t a kink that everyone has & the level of risk for this type of play is higher as a result of the impact of the risks behind it & the technical skill and training a person needs to be able to participate in the kink from a risk-aware stance.

I had never used the vampire paddle on anyone before, & didn’t intend to use it at the camp, but it felt right to include it. As I passed the tools around the circle, I watched the participants carefully handle each one. Most people gave the paddle a quick glance and passed it along—until it reached Bunny. She giggled, looked up at me, and asked,

“You know what this is, right?”

Bingo.

Never forget: you might not be the only one in the room with your kink. If need be, code.

From then on, Bunny has become a steadfast friend and play partner, & the figure seen with a knife entering her cunt.

It goes without saying that knife-fucking is a high-risk edge play practice—never something to leap into without trust, negotiation, and preparation. And Bunny? Bunny is a high-risk fuck.

She brings out both the worst and the best in me. She pulls my studies of edge play into something sharper, darker, pushing me to feed my most nasty desires. With her, the knife becomes more than steel—it becomes a key, unlocking the most raw and uncomfortable corners of my history. Like a dark Midas, I turn those memories into gold, forging them into a hilt of pleasure.

2025: I stripped her bare with the knife, cutting her clothes off in the woods. I tied her to a chair, beat her with a chain, pulled a bag over her head, threatened her, knife-fucked her, degraded her, and sent her walking back to camp naked.

Like that chain, my focus runs in both directions—outward into the scene, and backwards into my own life. I think about where I am now as a dom: my relationship to BDSM and kink, the technical skill I’ve honed, the connections I’ve built. And I think about the start of the chain, clenched in my fist—me, as a child, locking myself into my parents’ handcuffs alone in their room. Every moment in that chain matters, each link shaping who I am now. I hold both the mistakes and the triumphs with humility, & happiness in the person I am today, & the friendships I have maintained along the way.

Kaybea—the other figure painted on this hide—I also met at camp that year, when she volunteered to be my demo bottom for the flogger-making workshop. From that day forward, she remained one of my impact bottoms and eventually became my collared submissive and girlfriend.

As our dynamic deepened, I made it a priority to take her to her first workshop, equipping her with the tools to speak up during our play and take responsibility for her own safety.

PRICK—Personally Responsible, Informed, Consensual Kink—is a framework I began using with submissives as a way to encourage them to question and critically think about the play they engage in. I hoped that, if they ever found themselves in a situation where play stepped outside of negotiated risk awareness, they would be able to recognise it, trust their intuition, and stop the interaction.

I wanted Kaybea to feel empowered not only within our dynamic, but in any scene she participated in—knowing what she liked, understanding proper technique, and being able to care for herself even when I wasn’t there to watch over her. Of course, PRICK is not a substitute for proper accountability, risk awareness, and ethical topping—it was meant to give her the tools to stand on her own feet, even in the dark & to know she created her own power & had my support whenever she needed it.

Kaybea remains to me as someone I care about deeply, as I find myself beating her red and bruised, fucking her with vicious glee. I hold the love in my ability to toe the line in our play. We dance closer to the shadows together, both of us knowing that if she falls, I will fall with her. Gladly.