Kabunza: Here, there be dragons!

For the past couple of months I have been adding dragon tails to our complete impact play sets and (finally) I have managed to get around to procuring myself a set of twins.

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The thought of florantining dragon tails sent pleasurable shivers down my spine, so I decided it was mandatory to build a matching pair. They fly, wrap, roll, flick and flow as fully intended and I have hardly been able to put them down since creating them.

We have now started taking custom orders for individual dragon tails to be created. So if you fancy getting your hands on one (or a matching pair) created just for you, feel free to contact us through our online Kabunza Etsy shop.

If you would like to see more photos of our Dragon tails and other products that we have made in the past (perhaps to give you ideas for your own custom creation), check out our Kabunza blog at: http://kabunza.wordpress.com/, our fetlife profile at: https://fetlife.com/users/1764274 or our facebook page at: https://www.facebook.com/Kabunza

Angele in action.

As requested: Some recordings of Angele being used.

Both videos are of stimulation to the neck, shoulders, back and spine. Angele was on her minimal setting.

The first video includes the “Single Eye” electrode and the second includes the “Saturation Tube” Electrode.

I know I say this every time that I post anything on my blog that consists of electrical play in any of its forms. But it is uncanny how many idiots are still alive:
“Please remember to play safely. It is not recommended for people who have a pacemaker, ICD or heart conditions to play with electricity.”

For the love of everything kinky, use what little common sense it takes.

These videos have been published with the consent of the recipient receiving my attentions.

The best cruelty.

“It is just a little cut, Mistress.” He said as I inspected his nipple closely.
A very faint and miniscule red line adorned the tip. It looked beautiful.
“Too eager with the razor while shaving?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“The smallest cuts are always the most uncomfortable.” I said as I ran my tongue over a fang and continued to inspect the tiny wound with interest.
My sadistic mind began to tick over the possibilities. For me, this is automatic.
“Lay down.” I said forcefully as I pointed towards the bed.
He hesitated for a few seconds but did as he was told. For him, this should have been automatic.
I spent a few minutes chaining his wrists and ankles down. It gave me time to mull over the ideas forming. I decided simplicity would be best. Nothing quite beats tactile contact with a sharpened claw in an open wound. Regardless of how small the wound.

Have you ever heard the expression “You need to be cruel to be kind”? Well, it works both ways.
The best cruelty, the kind you can taste in the air and which sends a sadistic rush of pleasure down the spine, comes with kindness, relaxation and a false sense of security.

I removed a surgical latex glove from its container (I always keep a box of these handy, they have so many uses) and watched his expressions as I seductively walked towards where he was laid on his back.
He was already erect. But the gentle hip sway, the slow process of one foot in front of the other, the click of heel on tiled floor and direct eye contact with a knowing smile was an assurance he would remain so.
The glove was placed over his member. It was simply to keep his juices contained and off my rather expensive clothing. His eyes widened as I lifted a leg over his waist and sat on his stomach. His look was one of slight worry and he had good reason to. It was likely he was questioning why I was being so nice.
Stockinged thighs wrapped around body, a slight pelvis muscle flex to further distort attention and a forward lean to draw eye to cleavage.

I was being really “nice”.

Subtly on my part and oblivion on his part, my own attention returned to that miniscule bloodied cut.

I gently caressed the clean, unscathed nipple. A touch as soft as liquid silk. No doubt running shivers down his spine from all the tease up to this point.

And then he felt it. My other hand, unseen, unheard, unnoticed, had slowly made its way to the gashed nipple. My pointed claw pressed forcefully inside the cut and he grunted, his face turning red with the pain and his attempts at keeping the moans of agony contained. He struggled, but the chains held his limbs securely and the weight of my body on top of his kept him from attempting to dislodge the claw.

The expression on his face (aside from the pain): one of shock and realisation as to what I had been doing all along. It was equally as beautiful as that tiny nipple wound when I had fist seen it.

And now it was my turn to be the one with that rush of pleasure down the spine.