Monthly Archives: November 2013

Musings on switching

You know, I think switches are cool. One of my straight dominant friends said to me once that he wished he were a bi poly switch because he could have twice the fun. And I see his point! I hear that switches get picked on sometimes in the kink community (much like bi/pansexual people or poly people) because some people think they need to “pick a side.” I think that’s complete bullshit. I think that’s asking someone to give up their authentic self. I think there is no need to “pick a side.” Sometimes ALL sides are the right side for someone! I’m not a switch, so I don’t have a lot of personal experience with this. But I can believe that it’s so. First, because my switch friends have told me so. I can also see some of the fallout from it on a personal level. It isn’t just switches that are getting the short end of this particular stick. I’m getting it too.

Let me explain how it is hurting a dom that switches are being ostracized. Because it would not necessarily seem that it would have much of an effect on people who aren’t switches. So because it’s not always accepted that someone hasn’t “picked a side,” some people do try to do so. So now you have a switch declaring hirself to be either a dominant or a submissive exclusively. Much like any time someone tries to ignore a part of themselves, it usually doesn’t last. So now perhaps you have a dominant who found a great submissive. They have been seeing each other for a while, and now suddenly the dominant is asking the submissive to switch & be the dominant for a while. Now if the submissive is also a switch, it’s fine. Of if they are both fine with service topping, it’s fine. If they aren’t both switches, not so fine.

Now imagine for a second that the submissive is a man. And that almost every dominant woman he’s been in a relationship with is actually a switch who doesn’t feel comfortable self-identifying as a switch. This submissive man might end up assuming that any dominant woman he is with is going to expect him to turn the tables every now and again. Expect it. Want it. Now imagine this submissive man finds himself in a relationship with a dominant woman. Not a sadomasochist. Not a switch. Yes. I’ve been there done that. Between that and the gender-normative idea that all women are submissive… it makes me wary and it makes trusting that a man won’t try to top or dominate me… quite difficult.

I see it all the time on fetlife and other bdsm websites. There is a woman (not just in this incarnation, but this is the one that most effects me, so I notice it more) listed as a domme, dominant, master, mistress, etc. And she is the submissive or slave of someone else. I have seen it and heard it that “I am a dominant! I only submit to my Owner/Master/Dominant! So I’m not submissive.” Or possibly, “I only want to submit to my future owner! I only want to submit to one person!” (Because, you know, all those other people with a submissive side want to just submit to everyone out there even if there is no negotiated relationship) Well, call me crazy, but I think that if you choose to submit, then you are also submissive. Nobody is forcing you to submit. We have a term for that, we call it “switch.” And there is nothing wrong with that! I can understand that this could very easily happen since apparently being a switch is associated by some with waffling and refusing to “pick a side.” I also understand that some people just are not comfortable with their submissive side. But it sure does make for a rough day for me sometimes. (Because, you know, it’s all about me right? lol) I would love for people to all be able to own whatever they are. I would love for there to not be any shame in being a dominant or a submissive or a sadomasochist or a switch or a rope top or WHATEVER people are! Because I really do think that… there isn’t anything wrong with it. Not a bloody thing. And when people can’t admit it and all the lines get blurred and some submissive man I’m trying to date suddenly decides to slap me or pin me down or tell me he wants me to wear these shoes and that pair of pants because he thinks all dominant women really want it… well it just ruins my day.



All I can think is how much love I’m feeling lately. As much as socializing drains me, it also reminds me that I’m loved and cared for. I don’t love very many people. But the few that I love, I love fiercely. Right now I’m full up on love. My cup runneth over. Blah, blah, love, blah. My dog is currently being spoiled rotten and given all the pets he could possibly want because he’s my only outlet to express my love physically right now. Lucky dog! When the husband is home again, he will likely get all the pets he could possibly want. And then some.

Tomorrow I’m going to spend some time with a submissive friend of mine. I am going to have to be extra careful not to let my love cup runeth over onto him. I certainly don’t want him getting the wrong idea. My scene with the husband has left me feeling so connected to humanity and loved, I just feel like I have a lot of love to give right now. As long as it’s aimed in the proper directions!

This is my life: sex and blood

He looked amazing at the party in his sexy panties, bra, and heels. For once, I think he knew it. It’s always so late when we play, but I like it that way because we don’t have to worry about other people waiting to use the equipment. It was late. Most of the people had already gone home or were in various other areas just talking. I had him fetch me a trash can as I was setting up my clean area. After I was clean and the table was clean and everything was where I could get to it easily, I had him strip down to his hood, collar, and chastity cage. He climbed carefully onto the table, doing his best not to disturb the chucks pads. I had already paddled him just for fun earlier in the evening. Now I took my favorite flogger to him. I took my time flogging him gently on the back and ass and legs. Then I started hitting him harder. I love the sound of the leather striking his flesh. Eventually I hit him hard enough that he began to squirm. I had to caution him not to move around too much. He would knock my toys off onto the floor. So he started moving just his legs. He lifted them and so I decided to get out my cane. I caned his feet. I caned the rest of him too. He went from satisfied happy noises to noises of some distress. I laughed. 

After I’d had enough of flogging and caning him and his noises and writhing, I cleaned his back and arms and ass off and cuffed him. The first needle is always the easiest. The more I use, the worse it feels for him. I knew it would be harder even than usual because I was going to cross several of them under each other. One by one they went in. I slipped them ever so gently under his skin and out and back in again. Slowly. Deliberately. I love to watch them penetrating him. I love how he jumps and screams. I’ve learned to anticipate his flinching and jumping so I can still get them just where I want them to go in and out. There is something beautiful about watching that cold metal going under his skin. Sometimes it’s almost trancelike. I’m usually very silent during needle play unless he makes a particularly beautiful noise and it makes me laugh. Or unless I’m so turned on I’m cumming.

We had to take a few breaks while I was putting them all in. But we were a team. On the same page. We both wanted it. For the first time in a long time I felt how much he wanted it. Even though he doesn’t like it. He wanted it. He wanted me to have it. And I did. Every last one of them. I wrapped the strings around the needles, pulling them this way and that way. I tied him down to the table. I cleaned my hands again. I took the cane to him. I caned him from toe to neck. He made such pretty noises when the cane hit the needles. I wanted him. I cleaned my hands again. I started pulling out needles. Very gently. I think he was surprised at how gentle I was being. But it didn’t last. The last several needles, I used the strings to make a needle zipper. I pulled them all out and he yelled. I laughed and it was so hot. He was bleeding now.

I put on my cock and got up on the table on top of him. I spread his cheeks and entered him very slowly. I just had to fuck him. I rode him from behind. He was a faceless body for me to use. He was there for me to bleed and fuck until I was done. I fucked him and bent over til i could get at his blood. I licked him clean as I fucked him. He tastes like copper and I love the taste of his blood and skin on my tongue. After I’m done, after a long time and a second cock, I clean him up and we lay together with his back to me so I can hold him. Even later in the mirror, I see that though my hands have stayed clean, I still have his blood on my face. Even now it makes me smile.