Tag Archives: compromise

Femdom play: fantasy vs. reality

The idea was to do some bondage and draw some designs on one of the guys…

I would tie up his hot naked body, the rope slowly getting tighter around him. Him, getting more turned on by the tightness of the rope. By being immobilized, naked, and vulnerable. Then, after I had him helpless and bound, I would use his flesh as a canvas for my art. Drawing on him languorously, the wet paint feeling cool against his hot skin… further exciting him. He is my object. My toy and my art. Finally, I would use his bound body for my sexual gratification. Riding him until he is begging me to be allowed to orgasm.

That was the fantasy. Sounds hot right? (I think it sounds hot, but I admit to quite a bias since it was my idea.) So here’s the reality…

I began tying him and his arm was feeling swollen. I loosened the rope but it still felt off a bit. I checked his motor reactions, and they were good. I asked if he thought he could continue or if he were feeling any numbness/tingling. He said he wasn’t feeling any numbness, tingling, or pain. Just that his arm felt a bit swollen and heavy. He said he thought he could continue, and would let me know if he needed to come out of the tie. But he was not comfortable or getting into any kind of pleasant headspace from being in the bondage. He was mildly annoyed and uncomfortable in a bad way. He was also cold, as my air conditioner refused to raise the temperature to any modicum of warmth. That thing has a mind of its own.

After I had managed to get him tied up, I checked back in and he was fine to continue. So I began writing on him. Unfortunately, by this time, he was falling asleep. Which was causing him to twitch and jerk about. Not good for trying to make a cohesive design. So I kept having to pinch and poke him to keep him awake. That sounds relatively sexy, but he didn’t enjoy it because he was literally falling asleep. I didn’t particularly enjoy it because it was interrupting my drawing and wasn’t giving me any kind of fun reactions.

When I had finished making my masterpiece on him, I had planned on ravishing him. But he let me know that he couldn’t manage in the bondage any longer. So I began to untie him. So much for having a helpless, squirming bundle of passion under me! Once I got him untied, he was freezing without the rope to help keep him warm. So I snuggled up to him to try to keep him warm. We did at least end up having sex. The second time went much better than the first. I think he had recovered from being tired and cold by that point.

Femdom reality. Yep.


This is my life: miracle weekend

It’s late in my part of the world. The night is dark and cool. Nobody here but me. It was an intense weekend, and I’m both elated and a bit exhausted. I have missed 3 days of work, played, argued, made up, fucked, and cried. Not necessarily in that order. I feel I’ve been living in a different land for the past 5 days. Tomorrow I go back to the real world. There may be repercussions for missing work. I believe it was worth it. Even if I end up being fired, it will have been worth it. The Husband and I have reconnected. I feel wonderful!

Now I am looking forward to the future. I feel that things can work. For all of us. Times are changing. I am changing. Again. More hope for more kink and more love and more togetherness. It may not be perfect, but what is? Nothing. And this is good. This weekend has been a much needed catharsis. And now for some sleep!

This is my life: chiarascuro

We’re running around the house lighting candles so we can see. We’re a team. I know where the candles are and which ones will create the most light. He has the lighter. In the dark, we create enough light to see by. At least enough so we’re not bumping into the furniture. It’s enough. We don’t need the television or the internet to entertain ourselves. We have cuffs and rope and our own bodies. The way our bodies fit together is magic. It shouldn’t work, but somehow it does. It’s beautiful and transcendent like it almost always is. The thundering storm outside stopped at some point. When I come back to this world and my bed, I can’t hear it any more. The lights are still off. I leave him cuffed and tied to the bed and snuggle up between his cuffed arms. Then we think it best to eat the ice cream in the freezer before it’s just cream.

We have a whole weekend together. Somewhat of a rarity. I didn’t know it was going to work out this way, and have already made plans for Saturday evening. A few hours with the Wild Thing and some of his friends. He says it’s fine but behaves opposite. He’s sullen. Withdrawn. Pouting around me but coolly polite to the Wild Thing and his friends. He doesn’t want to be here. He could have stayed home but didn’t. He doesn’t want me to be here. I appreciate spending time with him. Sorta. I would appreciate it more if he weren’t so sullen. The sullenness continues all weekend. The bed is occupied with bodies. Bodies that should fit together like magic. But they aren’t. He doesn’t want to hold me. I don’t want to hold him. We are occupying space but not being together.

It’s difficult when being with one is so simple and freeing and being with the other is so fraught and difficult… but I truly want to be with both of them. I feel myself disconnecting again. And only one of them is allowing me to connect to him and to the rest of the universe through him.

Musings on domiNANT vs. domiNEERING

We hear it all the time in D/s circles:

“Dominant isn’t the same as domineering.”

But what does that really mean? It’s been a bit like porn to me. The United States Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart once said about pornography, “I know it when I see it.” That is how I’ve felt about dominant vs. domineering. I have a hard time defining it in concrete terms, but I know it when I see it. And I saw it.

Once I saw it, it actually became a lot easier to define. What I saw in the domineering person was a sense of expectation and entitlement. The expectation that s/he will get whatever hir desire is. Whatever s/he wants whenever s/he wants it. The expectation that all people will do hir bidding. Even people who haven’t negotiated things with hir.

As a dominant, I have the expectation that certain people will do what I want and work to make my desires happen. However, I only expect that of the people I have negotiated that arrangement with. I expect to hold zero sway over anyone else. Nor do I expect anyone else to cater to my whims and desires. Domineering people (or at least the domineering person I ran across) do.

I also would not assume that anyone would have the least desire to cater to my whims. Do what I ask (or tell) them to. If I were to tell a stranger to change his shirt because I didn’t like the look of it, I would be unsurprised if he laughed in my face. I would not even expect a friend to change their wardrobe because I didn’t like it. The domineering person seemed to be genuinely shocked when people didn’t want to cater to hir needs. Didn’t want to change plans or opinions to suit hir. It never seemed to occur to hir that other people really are not living their lives thinking of what might make hir life easier. S/he seemed to be blissfully unaware that s/he isn’t entitled to have hir way all the time.

Domineering person: Hey, let’s have lunch. Come pick me up at my office in 30 minutes.

Friend of domineering person: Actually I am having lunch in 10 minutes with my daughter.

Domineering person: Oh! I didn’t realize you had plans. Please don’t cancel lunch with your daughter!

Why would someone automatically expect that their friend would cancel plans for a last minute invitation to lunch? How can that be someone’s first thought in this scenario? Even a friend is not going to cancel lunch with a loved one 10 minutes ahead of the date. That would be extremely rude except in the case of an emergency. So why would anyone jump to this conclusion? Entitlement. Thinking s/he is more important in someone’s life than their own child.

This, to me, is how domineering people live. They order people about and make assumptions based on a sense of false expectations and clueless entitlement.

30 Days of Kink: 26 – 30

This went significantly longer than 30 days! But finally, the last installment.

26. What’s your opinion of online BDSM play?

I think it’s not at all the same as playing in person. There is a very different feel to a scene where someone else is administering the pain/bondage/etc. Yes, the bottom can always (at least in theory) stop the scene with a safeword when playing in person. However, when playing online, it’s as easy as simply stopping since the other person is not there to prevent it. In addition to that, another person doesn’t know exactly how it feels in the moment to be tied/flogged/spanked/etc, and s/he is going to be the one doing the actions. When administering pain or bondage to yourself, you can simply not hit quite as hard (or hit a bit harder) to get the desired (by you) result. The top is usually going to hit harder/softer to get the reaction (or desired result) s/he wants. All that being said, I wouldn’t go so far (as I’ve seen others do) as to call online play “fake.” It’s real, it’s simply different.

27. Do your non-kink interests ever find their way into your kinky activities? If so, how?

In an extremely roundabout way… I enjoy reading, so researching new techniques or new ways of structuring relationships can be fun! I also need to know a fair amount about human anatomy for my work, so that has come in handy on several occasions.

28. How do you dress for kink/BDSM play? What significance does your attire have to you?

What I wear runs the gamut from a leather corset over a latex catsuit with 6″ heel boots to… playing totally naked. It really depends on where I’ll be and what I’m doing. Sometimes the venue has a dress code, which I will abide by. That is often defined as “something kinky.” Often one can’t show nipples, genitals, or butt crack at the more public fetish events. At home, I still might wear boots (there can be no boot worship without boots) or latex (I find the dressing & shining process quite erotic) or other kinky clothes. If I’m going to be crawling around on a bed or the floor (if I’m going to do a significant amount of floor rigging or I’m going to be sexing up my play partner) then I am most likely not going to be wearing the boots or corsets. I’m much more likely to be naked or nearly naked. So I’d say that some of the clothing is significant in that it is a kink of mine either directly (boot worship) or indirectly (I love shiny clothing such as latex or pvc), it certainly isn’t necessary for me to enjoy some fun kinky times!

29. Do you have a BDSM title (e.g. mistress, master, slut, pig, whore, princess, goddess, ma’am, sir)? What is your opinion of the use of titles in general?

I don’t have any attachment to any title. The one quirk I have in regards to titles is not appreciating anyone who isn’t my property calling me master or mistress. Other than that, I am fine with anything from my name to Grand High Mistress of Everything! Though the last one might cause me to burst into laughter. I also don’t particularly care if others want to use titles. As long as they understand that I, and anyone I own, may or may not choose to use them.

30. Whatever BDSM/kink related thing you want to write about.

Sometimes, it’s good to remember things…

Like just because I’m the dominant partner, it doesn’t mean that I get everything I want. Or get to do everything I want. And that’s generally fine. Sometimes I still don’t get what I want because what I want isn’t in the best interest of my partner(s). Sometimes I have to make the call that nobody is going to get what they want because that’s what is best for everyone. Sometimes I don’t get what I want because there simply aren’t enough hours in the day. Sometimes I don’t get what I want because I chose to sacrifice that in favor of getting to have a wonderful relationship that has other benefits than “This person/these people will be able to give me everything I want.” Sometimes I don’t get what I want because physics or nature simply don’t allow for it. Sometimes that’s just the way the cookie crumbles. But you know what all those things have in common? I am still the one making the call about whether or not I’m getting everything I want. (Except for the physics/nature issue. And if I could change that, I really would.)

This is my life: I can’t get no satisfaction

“I would like to be able to have sex with the Wild Thing.”

… silence …

This rant is brought to you by my (lack of) sex life. For someone with two men who are submitting to me, you’d think I’d have more sex. I would certainly like to have more sex. Lots more sex. Unfortunately, it never quite seems to work out that way. I might get to have sex once or twice a month. That’s really not my ideal. I love cock. I prefer sex a few times a week. But despite owning two men with perfectly good penises (penii?), I just can’t get some. Why? Well I’ll tell you.

One of the men, the Husband, is currently working about 9 hours away from me. I see him for 3-6 days every month. I own his penis. I can use it whenever I want to. Except that most days, if I want to use it, I’d have 18 hours of driving for some cock. And when he’s here, we can’t always get on the same page about getting our groove on. He doesn’t like having sex when I’m on my period. So if he’s here when I’m all bleeding, I can’t have sex with him. And sometimes he’s just not in the mood. I could technically just tell him to get it up and then jump on him. But that’s not really appealing to me. I don’t like having to force someone to get it on with me. That makes me feel gross & undesirable, not to mention a little rapey.

I do have ready access to the penis attached to the Wild Thing. I see him for at least a few days every week. And if he isn’t in my actual presence, he’s only a phone call away. I own his dick. It is mere minutes away at all times. And he’s certainly willing whenever I want to interact with him sexually. I can use it whenever I want to right? Wrong. I have to ask permission from my submissive property, the Husband, in order to be able to have sex with my submissive boyfriend. Let me just say that again, because it feels all kinds of wrong to me.

I, as the dominant and owner, must ask permission of my submissive property in order to be able to fuck my boyfriend.

I feel like I’m eating shards of glass every time I have to get his permission to do something that (to my mind) should be a normal and natural occurrence between people who are dating.

I feel like an an asshole asking the Wild Thing to wait for a third party’s whim to decide when he can have sex.

I feel like the submissive partner in my own sex life.

I do not feel empowered as a dominant or a sexual being.

I do not feel I’m having enough sex.

But there are no easy answers. The Husband can’t accept my having sex whenever I want to. So he is still in control of my sex life. I hate it. But I hate it less than I hate the idea of being without the Husband. So I eat my broken glass. I bleed my words & my independence out of my mouth. And I am eternally thankful that the Wild Thing is so easygoing.

This is my life: strapon sex

I am only into tease and denial when I’m the one doing the teasing and denying. However, my agreement with the Husband does not include my being able to interact sexually however I’d like to with the Wild Thing. I’d like to be able to for the above mentioned reason. I don’t like being denied. However, I also wouldn’t like being divorced, so we compromise. All of us. Part of that compromise is that I can use a strapon with the Wild Thing whenever I want to, or I can put one on him and use him that way instead of using his own cock (which is not acceptable without additional negotiation ahead of time).

But I wanted that intimacy with the Wild Thing. I wanted to look into his eyes, see his beautiful visage, feel that connection between bodies. It seemed like the perfect ending to our play. He had been such a good rope bunny for me. I had challenged him and he had stepped up to meet that challenge. I wanted to praise him and connect with him at the same time. I know he loves being used, especially being used sexually. I put the strapon harness on him.

Even knowing it wasn’t his flesh and blood didn’t matter to the connection I felt when I felt him inside me. It’s not quite as good a feel for me as the real thing since silicone isn’t as giving as flesh. But that doesn’t affect the emotional connection for me at all. We started off with him on top. I wanted to be a starfish, a pillow princess, a lazy lover, catered to… and I was. He is very good at both taking direction and learning what I like. Then we took a brief break and I wanted to be on top of him. Riding my lover. Crushing him under me. Using him for my pleasure.

It was almost as if it was flesh and blood inside me. He reacted in such a way that I knew he could feel me moving over his lithe body. And he must have. He was hard under the harness. And sticking out of the top, I could feel him. Before long he was asking for permission to cum. So overtaken, as he always is, that he can barely articulate his desire. Barely speak the actual words to ask for my permission. I wanted it. He deserved it. I had certainly had my fill of physical and emotional climaxes. I let him cum.

And he was so conscientious about not getting any on the leather as he took it off. Such a gem!