"Has your M/s relationship ever crossed the line into the realm of Domestic Violence?"

Good question. It would be very easy to draw parallels between M/s and domestic violence but the major difference, as pretty much any BDSM practitioner will tell you, is consent. The way I also like to define it (and be sure we're not ever crossing a line) is with fear. I do not fear my Master and I don't have any reason to. But the way I could be sure if I was in an abusive relationship is if I feared my boyfriend.

There are things we do which scare me a bit as they are happening (like being suspended from my ankles) but I still know that I can trust Master to look after me. He won't let me fall and any fear I have is more a kind of "If the rope slips..." rather than "If Master cuts the rope..."

Master and I also have a safeword which He always respects. (Although, eventually I'll have to give this up.) If I call out the safeword, then He stops what He's doing straight away to check that I'm okay.

He never, ever hits me when He's angry or if He can see I'm not in the right state to be able to take it.

There have been times when I've cried in a scene (generally from pain) but whenever Master sees this He will be particularly loving and warm when it comes time for aftercare. Sometimes He shows me so much love and concern that my heart aches a little - in a good way.

There's one story that really emphasises all this for me. Before I tell it, I'll just let you know a couple of things;
1. My family has a history of eye troubles (detached retina, macro-degeneration, etc) I already need glasses and try to be very careful when it comes to my sight.
2. Despite the first point, I really do love being slapped in the face.

I was at Master house, in the kitchen. We had been playing before but it had been cut short (I forget why exactly) and we both had to get ready for work in about an hour. He came up behind me with an evil grin and a length of chain which He used to tie my arms behind my back, then He wrapped it around my waist. I was so pleased that we were going to be able to get some more fun in before I had to go and I happily followed as He pulled me towards the bedroom.

We were just getting started and He gave me several hard slaps on each cheek - they were harder than usual and on the last one I almost felt my jaw vibrate. He reached down the side of the bed to pick something up, when suddenly I noticed-
"I have a spot!"
Him: "What?"
me: "I have a spot! A spot in my eye!"

I was completely freaked out and I heard His demeanor change immediately. I kept closing and opening my eyes, trying to make this giant, grey spot in my vision disappear, but it stayed and I got more and more scared. I started crying.
I started thinking how stupid I was to have told Him I wanted to be slapped and to have let it keep going in so many sessions. Why didn't I think what could have happened? What if this spot never went away and the only reason I had it was because I had been so stupid? What if part of my retina had actually detached?

The whole time I was sobbing hysterically, He just held me tightly, saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." But I hadn't been thinking it was His fault at all - and I still don't.

When I calmed down and started breathing more normally, He brought me some ice in a tea towel. I'd been keeping my eyes closed for a while, not wanting to face the realities of when they were open. I gratefully accepted the ice and He stayed with me as I held it to my eye. He'd stroke my back or cuddle me and, after a little while, I felt brave enough to open my eyes again. The spot had shrunk, ever so slightly and I was incredibly relieved - as was He when I passed on the news.

It was mostly gone by the time we had to go, we both got dressed and, knowing that our jobs were opposite directions, I suggested I take the bus. He refused so strongly I was a little taken aback. But He said there was no way He was letting me take the bus after all that had just happened.

The spot was completely gone by the end of that day and I went to the eye doctor two days later, got a full check up, and found out I was fine. Master seemed as relieved as I was when I told Him about my check up. But we've since been a lot more careful with anything to do with the face.

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So, the point of that story was not to scare you. In fact, as accidents in BDSM go, that was probably quite a mild one. But, to me, it demonstrates exactly how non-abusive the relationship is;
- Master was not angry at all that we had not been able to have sex, despite the fact it would be nearly a week before we could catch up again. He has never brought it up to make me feel guilty, or held it against me in any way.
- Master stayed with me the whole time to make sure I was okay. If we hadn't both had to go to work, He probably would have spent all day and night with me. Even when it was apparent that I was getting better because the spot was shrinking, He didn't leave me.
- He brought me ice for my eye and then, later on, fed me chocolate to lift my spirits. Both of these are things He can order me to do as His slave (and often He does) but one this occasion He doted on me because He could see how much I needed it.
- As soon as He saw something was wrong, He untied me. He didn't say "You'll be fine" then continue with the scene. He was genuinely concerned for my well being.

I actually look back on that with a certain amount of fondness because of exactly how much love was expressed in all that concern. How many abusive partners would give their victims ice packs and chocolates, refuse to let them go home by themselves or cuddle them long after they had started to feel better?

I hope that answers your question. It is difficult to make clear lines between BDSM and domestic violence, especially when the powerplay continues outside the bedroom. But I think the main things you have to consider are; Do you feel comfortable with everything you're doing? Do you give your consent for it to happen? Are you ever afraid of your partner? and How much genuine love and concern do they show for you after you've been hurt?