How to Cry, Whimper, or Moan?

Is there a way to learn how to cry, whimper, or moan in a scene?

Growing up in a small family with thin walls, I learned quickly how to hold back my emotions and stay silent/unexpressive. If I ever cried, it'd be quietly and away from everyone else, which led me to be unable to cry in front of anyone at all regardless of the situation. As for masturbating, I always came silently because, again, we had thin walls, hence why I don't know how to whimper or moan.

This was useful at the start, but now I don't know how to be expressive during scenes, which I really want to fix. As someone who loves bdsm, especially painplay, it feels kind of boring to just lay there and I want to learn how to do more. I attempted both moaning and whimpering but it just sounds so awkward, and I just cannot figure out how to cry at all.

Do any of you have any tips?

I can identify with you. I spent my childhood as an only child in an adult world - single mother, university professor. Often farmed out to families she knew when she was at seminars, sabbaticals etc., sometimes for months at a time. I learned quickly that being quiet and non-expressive was my place, and I learned that lesson well.

There is nothing worse than fake sounds of passion. I tried too, and my Domme just laughed. It sounded so ridiculous, worse than fake porn stuff. I can see why trying to do that makes you cringe! Rightly so. I also understand that this is not how you want things to be. I'll give this my best shot.

I too was quite poker faced and inert in any BDSM sessions I had - which only began when I was in my late 60s. I can't say what will help you, but I can tell you what worked for me. In response to my partner's uncertainty and frustration, I started giving verbal feedback about what I was feeling. That felt awkward too, but at least it wasn't absurd. It was a way of owning what I felt, what I wanted, expressing it, asking, directing my Domme's actions for my desires. That was a huge step for me - I wasn't totally comfortable with even having sexual desires and needs, part of the "good boy" syndrome. She responded wonderfully.

I am a switch, although I lean toward the sub side. I know from my Dom experience that it is essential to know what the sub is feeling. After all, in a truly loving scenario, the Dom/Domme is the servant, taking the sub on a ride to a destination of the sub's choosing. Like a limo driver, the Dom is at the controls, but the trip is in service to the sub's desires. I wanted so much to give her a great experience. I was overly cautious, and she encouraged me to do more - harder strikes, more pressure on those nipple clamps, stretch that hole a little more, "Hurt me!" etc. That direction helped me so much, and soon, I began making an intuitive connection with her. I could read her, knew what she was feeling, because of the verbal feedback, and then because I knew her, her reactions, different "tells" that revealed what was working and what wasn't. Her responses helped me to be comfortable in the Dom role, and to sharpen my skills. I was so grateful for that.

That information gave me the courage to get over my awkwardness and begin verbally giving that kind of feedback. I tried to be as open about my responses to what she was doing and my desires as my body was open to anything she wanted to do to me - chained, spread eagle, standing, everything totally accessible and vulnerable. "That's good." "More" "Too much!" "Keep doing that." "Could you ...?" "Fuck yeah!" It felt so weird and awkward, but it worked. Not only did she love it, and to focus her attention where it did the most good. It also helped me to embrace what I was feeling, and reduced my level of shame immensely. I got more comfortable in my own skin. It was visible - I was relaxed.

Then, slowly, I began to respond without filters to the sensations that were coursing through me. My body would rise to her touch when she strimulated me, when I wanted more pleasure/pain. I would twist and pull on my bonds if I wanted to get away from a series of impacts. I wasn't thinking about anything - just feeling and reacting. My breath would catch at a moment of intensity or surprise. And the natural sounds began to happen. I wasn't choosing or trying to make them - feeling comfortable, and embracing what I felt gave rise to the natural, unfiltered expression of the moment.

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My advice, for what it's worth: Put those feelings into words. Get over the barrier of shame and embarrassment by owning and expressing your emotions, reactions desires and needs. Verbal feedback may seem awkward to you, but a loving partner will eat it up and be hungry for more. They want to give you what you need, and need to know how to do that. If you get over that hump, you will gradually become more comfortable with yourself as a kinky, weird, sexual creature. As that level of comfort grows, the inhibitions will begin to wither and lose their power. We are naturally expressive. Look at the exuberance of a kid who is secure and comfortable. That can be you.

One other possibility: ramp up the intensity of the sensations. At a certain point, it's hard to be quiet and stoic. Let the noises happen when they want to come out. But the more you are comfortable in your own skin, and accept the mix of emotions and sensations within yourself, the more expressive you will become.

Is there a way to learn how to cry, whimper, or moan in a scene? (...) Do any of you have any tips?

There is no easy way. Long exercises with a patient partner are necessary. You have established habits, and this is not changed easily and quickly, but gradually. I was dealing with a woman who liked spanking, but couldn't scream. I had to encourage her to do so. But it is not an easy process, it is important that such a person feels safe.

I had the opposite. When I was about 11 years old (I don't remember exactly) I read adventure books and wanted to be brave like their heroes. When I was spanked by my mother, I didn't scream. My mother stopped spanking after a few blows. She started asking me why I wasn't screaming. When I answered her, she said that shouting was necessary. Thanks to the fact that I scream, she knows that spanking is painful and works as it should. She told me to scream and start spanking again. She was beating me a little harder, which was an additional incentive to scream.

Experience is the best teacher.

Often a member of a Mexican Mariachi band will give a proper "howl" and even an extended further howling. From this we can say it is something of an art. Witnessing this at a large outdoor event in old down-town San Antonio Texas, as they were taking a little break, I asked him how he learned it!

He told me I had asked the perfect question, as it was of his grand father that he had asked the very same question. Grandpa then asked him to come stand beside him on his left side and he would demonstrate. He took his grandson's right hand in his left and pivoted to in front of him and in the same move, stomped his grandson's foot. The boy's eyes popped open and he howled out Ooow, OOooohh. And grand pa says remember this always, my son when it is needed that your howl will brighten the music.

Now for me it was a little different, but not much different. Mom'ma was sending her enema waters up my butt and I was whining. To this mom'ma taught me how to "moan" instead, as her mother had taught her, she said.

Hearing this remedy I simply changed my tune and moaned for her. As I did, she moaned back to me. We exchanged moans with an exchanged rhythm. I learned to match her tone and in-toning while her waters were running in and troubling my tummy-tum.

The next time I needed an enema, she greased her finger and showed it to me, giving me the "come here signal" and the command to drop my pants. I did and stepped carefully toward her. She laid me over her lap and without losing a moment stuck me and twisted her finger in good and deep. I automatically moaned for her and she moaned back. One day when I seemed sad and depressed, I told her, I wanted to moan for her. This time, with her enema filling me, she stood us in front of a mirror and said, I was a good boy. I expressed my expanding & weighted tummy for her. She kept her arm and hand reaching down behind me while I took deep breaths and moaned softly for her, my butt was sucking desperately and boner reaching up for the ceiling after something, though it knew not for what.

There was no doubt, I had the greatest mother of any other kid in school.