Monthly Archives: July 2014

Doing it wrong: I am not a supermodel

 

 

So… I just want to go on record as saying that I don’t look like this.the fantasy

 

Or this.

fantasy_dom2

I don’t.

I love the boots and shoes and shiny “Dominatrix uniform” kind of clothes. So I wear them even though I don’t look like this. I have repeatedly… REPEATEDLY heard about how you have to look a certain way in order to even think about wearing thigh high boots or latex or to let your body show. Usually I hear it when I’m in jeans and a sweater. Because they’ve forgotten that I’m a latex fetishist who doesn’t look like a supermodel. I hear it from men and women. I hear people say it about themselves… “Oh I could never wear that because I’m too big.” It makes me sad. It makes me angry.

I hate that we live in a world where people can’t even wear clothing that they want to wear for fear that people will laugh at them. Or make snide comments behind their back. I hate that people hate their own bodies enough to deny themselves the freedom to wear what they like. I hate that people fear being naked with each other. I hate that people who don’t look like movie stars and supermodels are afraid to let other people touch them because of some perceived imperfection.

Fuck that. I wear latex. And thigh high boots. And I refuse to feel bad about it. I show up to the beach, and I don’t wear shorts or a mumu. I wear a bikini. And if people don’t want to see my big fat ass, then they can always look elsewhere. I wear sandals without painted toes. I sit naked on top of my gorgeous muscular submissives and let them see me and touch my beautiful body. (One of them is particularly fond of touching my belly whenever he can get his hands on it.) I want them to see me and touch me just as I want to see and touch them. If we can’t be naked with our lovers and enjoy each other’s bodies then with whom can we be that vulnerable and unfettered. Intimacy. I can’t imagine my life without it. Or without my official “Dominatrix uniforms.”

Dinner for one

I have 2 submissives. And while I spend a fair amount of time with one or both of them, I often DO things… alone. It’s partially by design. I like to have a fair amount of “me” time. I need that to recharge my batteries after being around people all day long at work. I even need occasional breaks from people whom I consider to be “my people.” It doesn’t need to be a lot of time alone. It doesn’t need to be completely alone. He or they can be in a different room or across the room but not making any immediate demands on me. There if I want to interact, but no demand for interaction.

However, partially it’s due to schedule conflicts or other kinds of “life gets in the way” stuff. And as a result of this, I’m often having dinner alone. Going to a movie alone. Grocery shopping alone. You get the picture. Luckily, I have always been comfortable being alone or having only myself for company. Perhaps it’s due to vanity or arrogance. Who knows. But I don’t mind moving through the world by myself. Sure, it’s great to have some company. But I don’t need it all the time. I wouldn’t even say I need it most of the time. I’ve never had much of an issue finding partners (other than being entirely too picky about my partners) when I want one. But I’ve also never felt I needed one.

Today I enjoyed some wonderful alone time. I had lunch alone. I went to a munch alone. I had dinner alone. And I will sleep alone tonight. Bonus, I get to sprawl out across the entire bed without worrying about kicking anyone in the knee! (Because that really hurts my foot, of course…)

Musings on being selfish and lazy

From a writing by Raven Kaldera on Fetlife:

You can imagine what my slave thought of this mindset. It drove him crazy. “Why are you doing this?” he would yell at me. “Do you think it’s benefiting me? Well, it’s not! I am in no way better for it! I’m just as frustrated as you are, and no better off! Don’t try to justify it because you think it’s helping me!” He would beg me, again and again, to be more selfish. Please, I want to give this to you. I see how hungry you are for it, how you starve yourself. I want to be the one who can give this to you. I want to be the one to whom you can say, “Shut up, bitch,” and I don’t mind at all. I want to be the one who will give up the last of my precious lo mein for you just because you want it, who will inconvenience themselves again and again on your whim. I want to believe I’m sturdy enough to take it. It will feed me to feed this part of you.

The discussion is about being able to be selfish. For a very long time, I’ve struggled with receiving service. Partially, this is because the Husband struggles with service. Or he used to. If I defined something as “service” then he balked or refused. That meant that I couldn’t label anything as service and I also couldn’t ask for many of the things I wanted to ask for. And on the occasions I was able to insinuate or suggest that I might like for him to do this thing… you know… if he had nothing better to do right now… his non-kinky-play-related service was largely contingent on my doing something else that he found worthwhile during the time he was cooking/cleaning/serving. So wiping down the kitchen counters while he cleans the toilet? Ok. Setting up for a scene while he folds the laundry? Maybe. Taking a nap while he mops the floor? Probably not. Playing a video game while he mows the lawn? Definitely not ok. Now, I know not everyone is a service submissive. That’s fine. But I also kept wanting to ask for things. So I started to think I either needed a service submissive or I started to doubt my own dominance since I wasn’t asking for things I wanted. It was complicated, and I’m beyond happy that situation has changed.

But to say I had a complicated relationship with service of any kind was an understatement. (Except for house cleaning or yard care because those are things I just really despise.)

I also know I can be selfish and lazy. Very selfish and lazy. And I struggled with finding some kind of acceptable (in my own head) balance between being completely selfish/lazy and not being able to expect that my submissive will do the things I ask for. So when I read Raven Kaldera’s slave’s reaction to his lack of selfishness… it practically made me want to jump up and down shouting, “This!!! This is what I crave!” I want someone who knows I can be extremely selfish. I want someone who will get up from what they are doing to go pour me a drink just because I want him to and I’m thirsty. Someone who will give me the last of his lo mein because I want it. Someone who wants to be inconvenienced for my desires. Because sometimes my desires are inconveniences. I want it to feed something in him. Something that will make him feel stronger or better or happier for having done these things for me. I want someone who is thrilled beyond words that I can be selfish and lazy. Someone for whom it goes beyond letting him do things he thinks I might like or want. Someone I can ask to be giving and industrious on my behalf.

Love letter

You took me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting you. But now I love you. I love your grace and your quiet strength. I know people see your grace, but I don’t think as many recognize how strong you are. I feel like you’re a kindred spirit as well as my lover. I want your spirit as much as I want your body. And your grace inspires my imagination. You have managed to climb inside my head and now you seem to own a piece of my heart.

You have forever changed me and what I want in a man. Your petite frame thrills me. I love being able to pick you up and how our bodies fit together when I do. I love it equally how our bodies fit together when we’re walking hand in hand or sitting next to each other. I love being taller and larger than you. Your smallness excites me. You are the perfect mix of masculine and feminine.

In a different world, I’d have you as my wife and lover. In a different world, time would mean nothing. In a different world, you wouldn’t crave the top side. In a different world, I would want children. In a different world, the Husband would be ok with sharing you with me permanently. In a different world, we could remain together. I wish for that world. Because I feel it in my soul that you are mine. But when the time comes, I will love you enough to let you go find your happiness with the one who can meet all those needs that I can’t. I love you.

Dear Wild Thing’s Mother,

I know you’ll never read this because (in addition to the fact that this is an anonymous blog) you refuse to acknowledge me. I know I’m not what you want for your son. I know that you don’t like me. I think I scare you for some reason. I know that you wish I would just go away.

And here’s the thing… one day I will be gone from his life. But it won’t be me that leaves. It will be him. Some day. He will go.

I know that you probably think I’m taking advantage of your innocent son. I’m not. He’s a wonderful man. A man. A young man, but definitely a man. He has a tremendous capacity for thinking in general and critical thought in particular. I’m sure you played some role in creating that in him since you were largely a single parent, and I must thank you for it. He’s a deep thinker and he is very good at introspection. I’m not taking advantage of an innocent moron. Your son is gentle and kind. But he’s no naive innocent. And he’s certainly not stupid. He’s actually incredibly smart. You gave him the genetics then made sure he had a great education. If you don’t trust me, trust that. Trust him. Trust that you have raised a good, intelligent, thinking, individual. Because you have. You did a good job being a mom. He’s a wonderful human being.

But also know that both he and I know this won’t last. There are some very primal needs that he has which I can’t meet. Yes, there are many of his needs that I can meet. And I do my best to meet them because I love your son. I want him to be happy and fulfilled. I’m happiest when those I care about are happy. That’s my nature. But I also know that there are some things I simply can’t ever give him. So one day he will move on. And I will mourn the loss of a lover and a loved one. He will take a piece of my heart with him when he goes. I knew that when I decided to engage with him. He knew it too. We still deemed it worth the time we could have together to love and grow and explore. But make no mistake, it will end. And you will have your wish.

But for now, I have to thank you for being such a huge part of creating such a tremendously wonderful man. He’s incredible. He really is. And for all that I’m twice his age, he has already taught me so much in the year I’ve known him. You have helped to create a fantastic human. And I am sure his future wife will feel as lucky as I do to have him in her life. Thank you.

This is my life: Tuesday journey

He was already feeling things before we even got started. I was in the bed getting things arranged how I wanted them. He came to the edge of the bed and knelt with his head in my lap. I knew it was going to be one of those nights.

I had him strip and get in bed so I could get his hair out of the way. I needed to see his beautiful face. I wanted his hair out of his eyes. I pulled it back and told him to go get me a length of rope. One. So he slid out of the bed and brought me back my rope. He presented it to me on both hands. Which made me smile. Then I had him get back in the bed so I could tie him up.

I bound his chest and arms. Pulling him against me. Kissing his neck. Biting his shoulder. Holding him in my arms as much as with the rope. Then I ran out of rope. I teased him by having him go find me more rope while still bound. He was adorable looking around the room at all the rope til he found one that was the right length and color. I made him kiss my feet before squirming back into bed. Then I finished tying him up.

I laid him back and had him close his eyes. I wrote on his pretty face. My message to him. My desires. My needs. On my beautiful canvas. Claiming his skin and his freedom. Taking what I wanted. Taking his skin in my mouth and under my hands. I tortured him with pain and pleasure. I wanted him to hurt and soar and ride the waves to where I wanted to take him. I watched him struggle and sigh and soar. And when I was ready, I led him to the end of that journey. Letting him explode for the price of pain. And find the end of his journey. My arms.

He fell asleep in my arms. Still bound. I wish every night could be like that night.