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Master Aryn Blaque

I first saw him onstage playing. And so did you, if you were lucky.  He made love to her, with rope, and cuffs and a whip. He treated her like she was a jewel, then he adorned her with his marks. The things he did made my whole body tingle in excitement, just watching.  Then he turned to me, looked in my eyes, licked his lips and smiled slowly, like I was next.


Never had I seen BDSM like that.  Not on top.  Not on bottom.  And I wanted to be in both positions. To play so well, that it became art.


Soon afterwards he began to work at the same dungeon that I did, as a professional Master.  Mistress Sabrina Belladonna introduced us as we all smoked cigarettes on the rooftop terrace during breaks.  Even though he was intimidating on stage, in reality he was a very caring person. He was sweet to me.  And pretty soon he was my boyfriend.

I was honored when he invited me to join the weekly S&M show he ran in the infamous cramped backroom of Sin-A-Matic.  It was one of the very few opportunities people had in the 90s to experience BDSM. At a time when only a few adult-store magazines and books were the only place to find images of BDSM, Sin-A-Matic drew crowds from all over the globe to watch actual play. 


And the play was amazing. These days it is much easier to see BDSM on the internet and in videos or at events, but now it is pretty difficult to find play on that level. 


Aryn was highly respected for his skill and showmanship, he made throwing a single tail look easy.  He electrified rooms, not with flashy lights, stage sets, costumes or toys but with intimate energy exchanges that drew everyone there into his scenes.

I only got to join in for a few months, but I will never forget those nights.  We showed up with a vague plan of who we were playing with and what we were doing, huddled into the tiny exit hallway, and waited for his direction.

He asked “What you got?”, then pointed to one of us, saying “you’re up next”, and soon we stepped up on that tiny stage to play.

We always had a full room. Behind the dance floor, main stage and poolroom, a doorperson held back an impatient line of those who didn’t know the latest entry password. It was just a storage room painted red and filled with old sofas, chairs and floor cushions placed in front of a tiny black wood platform featuring only a St. Andrews cross, a lone chair, and perhaps some fabric and candles

Master Aryn Blaque
BDSM Performer, Lifestyle Master
mentor, EducatoR
prodom & daddy

But those modest surroundings were elevated by the intense, steamy, skillful play of Master Aryn Blaque and his regular performers: Mistress Shaydee, Master Entropy, Master Schno, St. Michael (R.I.P), Marquis, sub regan, sub tiffany, sub jennifer, plus guest pro and lifestyle players. 


We had so much fun learning and inventing as we flowed through the acts, inspired by Aryn’s confidence in us and the safe space he gave us to create.  One night, Master Entropy showed up and started twirling two floggers, nobody had ever seen that before. Now they call it Florentine flogging and I even heard someone teaching a form of it say that it came from ancient Florence. HA! It was invented in the fucking Sin-A-Matic backroom! 

Aryn’s natural rapport with the audience invited them into the world of BDSM, as he played with grace, humor, and passion.  He made everyone feel safe to explore, so much so that people would clamor to get onstage for their first ever spanking, bondage or flogging, witnessed by an audience, when BDSM was still taboo.


Nothing, nothing, nothing was like Aryn throwing a whip.  To see it, was a lesson in what BDSM is really about. The flow of energy between people. One taking...and giving back even more.  Electricity. Exchange. Respect. Connection.  Sex – with clothes on, maybe even without touching. 

And if you were kissed by his whip. Ahhhh. He flogged me, while I was naked on all fours, the leather tails caressing me sensuously. Then it felt like a massage, then a pounding massage, then the tips were scratching my skin, hurting, hurting, hurting, until....I was flying...hungry for each strike that felt like an orgasm across my back.  The Pleasure.  The High.  He gave me that. And then he taught me how to give it.  How to make someone’s eyes glaze over, their face relax into bliss, their entire being radiate with joy.  And how to then hold them, talk to them, and bring them back to earth safely.


He broke me with hot wax. Dripping it. On the same spot. For. So. Long. I didn’t think I could take it anymore until I slipped beyond and drifted away.


He used to practice his single tail by flicking the light switch on and off. On and off.

I heard the crack of it breaking the sound barrier before it hit me.  It was unbearably painful. Then instantly gone.  You can’t even remember that much pain and it leaves so fast that each time it is like the first.


In the traditional way, he gave me the experience of play and then showed me how to do it, safely and skillfully.


I know he wouldn’t mind me telling you that we switched.  Because one night, I had a bit too much to drink and decided to volunteer for an onstage flogging. He looked at me sideways and asked if I was sure I wanted to do that in public. I nodded. I didn’t care if I was a “Pro” with an “Image”. Fuck that.  If people can’t handle that I can both top and bottom then FUCK THEM.  So he did it. But then when he was done, he dropped to floor and worshipped my boots.  People were shocked to see him submit. We laughed so hard offstage at the confusion we caused.

Like we did the last time we were hanging out.  We laughed about the men who think that women are all "born submissives", after he had told one that he would only be back at that event, if I said it was OK, and the guy was rendered speechless. We laughed about old times and new times we just had 5 mintues ago.  We always laughed so much together.


Aryn was a great friend. He stayed in touch and made time for his friends, especially if they were in need.  He was always there to give advice, support and a boost of confidence to all those who looked up to him.  And there were many.


He was a prominent member of the BDSM community who made everyone feel welcome, despite their differences. One of the first male ProDoms in Los Angeles, at the Velvet Underground, he played with clients of any gender or orientation, just as he did onstage, fostering a level of acceptance across BDSM subcultures, which can be surprisingly hard to find, even today.


He stood out at BDSM events as often the only black person present, and in that way, he was a role model to people of color who are still under-represented in the fetish world, but furthermore, he stood out was as an inspiration to anyone who witnessed his ethics and skill.


Called Daddy by many, Aryn earned deep trust because he conveyed respect for people who put him in a position of power, they felt safe under his protection, sure that he would honor their boundaries.  Women knew that they could count on him to treat them the way they wanted, they could be vulnerable in a non-sexual way without holding back because Aryn would dominate them without being inappropriate. As a Daddy, he was a father figure to many people of all genders and orientations.


Aryn was a teacher.  He shared what he knew.  When he played at several nightclubs, events, and play parties in the Los Angeles area, he was always open to questions and generously taught strangers BDSM skills. He gave private lessons, usually for free, to many people who credit him for their technique.

Many people looked to him for advice on BDSM, but they also looked to him as a life role model.


After we broke up, he was still always sweet to me. And we stayed friends for 20 years.  We supported each other and we always met with a smile, and a hug.  We still called each other Honey, until the end.


When I was very ill, I made him promise that if I got well, he would do a Sin-A-Matic reunion event.  We would get the group together onstage.  We made plans and I even got official permission to use the name Sin-A-Matic for one night only.  He was adamant though that I had to get everyone on his list to do it or he wouldn’t do it at all.  He was never interested in being the star, even though he was. 


Documented in the 2003 film, Headspace, the community that Aryn created came together as curious seekers and graduated to become a generation of experts who still teach in the BDSM community.

In his final years, Aryn declined invitations to play in public, preferring to keep it private, although he kept in touch with his many friends in the scene.  Aryn was a loyal friend, who could be counted on for a laugh as well as to be there in a time of need. Often he cared for others better than he cared for himself.


He took care of people.  He took care of his mother (who was not such a great mother by the way) until she died. He took care of people maybe too much, at the expense of his own well-being.


He told me how tired he was and that he really wanted to focus on himself.   So, when he said he couldn’t come to my party because he was in the hospital with pneumonia, that made sense.  A few days later he found out it was lung cancer.  I wanted to visit him in the hospital but when I told him I was on the way he said, “No Honey, not now”.  So, I stayed home. Then....he was gone.  

Like many others, I didn’t get to say goodbye.  But I did get to say to him one last time “I love you”. And hear “I love you too”.   His last words to me, were typical Aryn, caring and kind.


He died on June 3rd, 2016. At his two well-attended kink memorials, it was widely recognized that much of the Los Angeles BDSM community could trace their involvement back to his monumental influence.


Master Aryn Blaque inspired not only the Los Angeles BDSM community, but the entire world.

May He Rest In Power

Anchor Aryn
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