I am sure the few readers I have might have noticed that I haven’t been writing much lately. Partially it has been that I have not had much time alone. And it’s very hard to keep an anonymous blog when your loves are looking over your shoulder at what you are typing. Also, vanilla life has gotten busy. But in addition…
I have not been doing much in the way of kinky play or D/s. In fact, both of my relationships have been gearing down from those things and steering in a much more vanilla direction. I do still have some kinky play times and some D/s in my life. But it isn’t nearly what it was a few years ago. So I simply have less to write about.
I wish I could say that I’m happy with this situation. But it seems that I keep finding myself in this kind of situation. (This has not been my first foray into multiple partners.) One, two, three partners, and very little kink in my life. You would think that with more partners, you would of necessity be getting more play. More D/s. Apparently it doesn’t always follow. The only way that I have found more kinky play (though not more D/s) with multiple partners are the times I have done more casual play with friends.
Now I find myself feeling that I am approaching a crossroads. I find the older that I get, the harder it is for me to find chemistry with anyone. The less often I am attracted to anyone on even the most rudimentary level. The less I have in common with any one person. And yet the more I find that what I need in my life is one (or two) permanent and committed relationship(s) with plenty of authority transfer and kinky play times. And I find myself needing someone (or someones) who has plenty of time to spend on me.
What I currently have are two halves of that equation. I have two partners with whom I have things in common and they have been fairly committed and permanent. But the kink and D/s have been fading into dust. They have become… are becoming… half relationships. Half relationships with men that I still love. And that aren’t filling my needs.
The Husband accepted a job that has taken him to another state. Our relationship has become long-distance. It was supposed to be temporary, but after a few years, it becomes clear that it isn’t. He is happy and doing work that suits his talents. This is wonderful! For him. But it is slowly killing our relationship. And it has already killed our kinky play and D/s. He no longer feels like mine. He feels like a handsome stranger that I want to get to know but can’t. Not enough time.
The Wild Thing was never going to be a forever relationship. There are too many things that he wants from life that I can’t deliver. And as those things return to his consciousness after the NRE and rose-colored-glasses phase of our relationship fades (we have had quite a long time, over 2 years of NRE and rose-colored-glasses), he doesn’t feel like mine either. He feels like a horse comfortable in the yoke but ready to start running free. And I want him to be able to run free. I never want to hold anyone back from being who they are.
But that leaves me with two vanilla halves of a relationship that don’t… can’t add up to a whole for someone who NEEDS the passionate whippings. The willing servitude. The concession of will. The hours of time together. And the joy in all these things must be mutual. When the joy and the enthusiasm is one-sided, I lose my energy and will to sustain things on my own.
I need a partner in crime. Someone or someones who glory in bending to my will and being the canvas for my passion. They must be in it with me. I am sad that I don’t have these things.
But I am also hesitantly hopeful that those things are out there. And that I can and will find him. Or them. And hesitantly hopeful for the men I love to find whatever it is that they need as well. Because I don’t think it is me. And I am cowardly. Because I have no idea how to go about speaking about this with them. I do still love them. I don’t want to damage them. And I can’t tell if staying together will damage them more than parting our paths.
Posted in bdsm, change, D/s, dominance, honesty, kink, love, musings, my life, needs, play, relationships, submission, the husband, the wild thing
Tagged bdsm, change, D/s, femdom, honesty, kink, love, musings, my life, needs, play, relationships, submission, the husband, the wild thing
I recently watched the movie, “Avatar” on the television. It isn’t one of my favorite movies, but I do like the scifi genre in general. At the very least, it has a good deal of visual interest. I have seen it several times. It comes on the television regularly. This time, a particular moment struck me as incredibly beautiful. And I related to the main female character. She is cradling the much smaller male character in her arms after literally saving his life. “I see you,” she says. She is larger and stronger than he is. And she cradles him very lovingly. This. This is how I feel when I hold the Wild Thing’s small, shaking body after we play. I feel like a conquering heroine who has just saved her lover. I feel that I see who he is, and he sees who I am. And we both love what we see in each other.
Neytiri & Jake from “Avatar”
Posted in bdsm, D/s, love, musings, my life, relationships, the wild thing
Tagged bdsm, D/s, femdom, love, musings, my life, relationships, the wild thing
It’s a touchy subject. And it’s surrounded by heated debates almost every time it is brought up. Forced anything play.
I do it. I like it. Sometimes. And other times, I wouldn’t touch it under threat of death. (Slight exaggeration, but you get the picture.) Why? Well I’m glad you asked. I’ll tell you! And I’m using forced femme as my platform as I’ve just read something that insisted that all forms of forced femme stem from a place of misogyny. I have, therefore, just been called a misogynyst. Of course, I disagree.
I have two very different submissives right now. The Wild Thing wears panties every day. I took away all his “man” undergarments. He has one pair of black boxer briefs that he is allowed to keep in case he has some kind of emergency where he needs to present as male/masculine. Otherwise he wears panties. All day every day. It isn’t forced. I require it, but I didn’t force it out of him. It’s who he is. He owned some before we met along with some skirts and feminine lingerie. It’s natural to him. As natural and right as his having skin or legs or eyes. It was my choice to have him wear them all the time, but I did so because it is a part of him. I want him to know I think it’s sexy and beautiful and that I love to see him in his panties.
I also like to see The Husband in sexy feminine clothing. He has a love/hate relationship with wearing them. He doesn’t like wearing them. He likes being forced. I like to see him in them. I like forcing him. Many people would say that he’s a misogynistic jerk because he likes me to force him to wear women’s clothing. And that I am, by my participation in this activity, a party to misogyny. Because I’m forcing him to be “lesser” by making him dress in a feminine manner.
Now, I will agree that many people who participate in forced femme are coming from a place of misogyny. I’ve heard many a submissive man want me to force him into a pair of heels and a dress in order to access his submissive side. That he couldn’t submit any other way. As if somehow only women can be submissive because they are somehow meant to be. That is the kind of forced femme that I don’t like. I won’t do it. It does nothing for me. In fact, it’s a big turn-off.
But that isn’t how forced femme works for The Husband. It makes him uncomfortable. It doesn’t feel natural to him. It’s as if he suddenly sprouted feathers instead of having hair. I like making him uncomfortable. I like taking him out of his comfort zone. And, admittedly, he looks incredibly hot in lace and satin and a pair of heels. Which I love!
And he does see it as a form of humiliation. Not because he’s being feminized or made to be more like a woman. But because it’s not who he is. I would get the same reaction if I dressed him as an infant. And it certainly isn’t like he feels being a baby was a humiliating time in his life. Or that babies are somehow not ok. It simply isn’t who he is. And I don’t dress him like that because I find stockings and heels sexy and I don’t find diapers and baby bonnets sexy.
If I did, he might find himself in a baby bonnet and thigh high boots. Of course, he would do it. And be uncomfortable. And turned on by being taken out of his comfort zone. But I’d really rather see him in lace.
Posted in bdsm, D/s, dominance, forced, kink, musings, my life, play, relationships, respect, the husband, the wild thing
Tagged bdsm, D/s, dominance, forced, kink, musings, my life, play, relationships, respect, the husband, the wild thing
The problem (aside from not getting nearly enough of it) with having sexual experiences so shockingly exceptional is… that it can become a craving. And anything less can seem undesirable. This isn’t to say that I don’t treasure that night. I do. I wouldn’t change it or give it up for the world. If I had it to do over again, I’d do the same thing. But now I have this odd love/hate relationship with sex when it comes to the Wild Thing. I hope for something transcendent again. Every time. But I also fear I’ll never feel that again.
The other problem is that I am now giving something (partially de-kinked sex*) to the Wild Thing that I don’t seem to be able to manage with the Husband. It isn’t for lack of trying. It’s just that they are two different men and I have two different dynamics with them. I’ve given it some thought. My current conclusion is that my dynamic with the Husband includes a very healthy dose of S/m. And for him, sex is intrinsically linked with pain of some sort. Emotional, physical, both. So though he tells me he wants vanilla sex. Lovemaking. No kink. His cock won’t cooperate with that idea in his head.
And really, neither of these are gargantuan problems. I still manage to fuck the Wild Thing whenever I get the chance. Sometimes it’s transcendent. Sometimes it’s merely wonderful. And while it probably looks like “lovemaking” or “non-kinky” sex to the Husband, it isn’t. *The D/s dynamic permeates every interaction the Wild Thing and I have, including sex. So whether it’s transporting me across the universe or just across the room and into bed, my sex with the Wild Thing is D/s sex. It isn’t vanilla by a long shot.
Posted in D/s, just me, kink, love, musings, my life, sex, the husband, the wild thing
Tagged bdsm, D/s, femdom, love, musings, my life, relationships, S/m, sex, submission, the husband, the wild thing
We had been together for several days already. There had been opportunities, but I’d passed them up. It didn’t seem quite the moment. He was not in his usual happy mood. I was waiting. I had him do some cooking, which usually cheers him up. It seemed to bring back some of his usual cheerful demeanor, but it didn’t last. I had given him some chores. That helped temporarily as well. He even asked if there was more he could do. But eventually, I was tired of waiting for that perfect moment.
I stripped him. I bound him. I started biting and flogging him. He began crying with the flogging. I had been expecting that. He’d been in a melancholy mood. His emotions close to the surface. I soon gave up the flogger for the whips. I began to hurt him in earnest. He sobbed. I put a towel down at his feet so he could drool, spit, sputter, anything. And he did. I gave him tissues and sips of water. I continued to whip him til his legs were collapsing and his back was bloody.
As his legs gave out, it was starting to pull on his wrists. His arms stretched overhead to their limit. So I took the cuffs off. And kept going. I placed my foot near his hand so he could touch me if he wanted to. Or needed to. He did. Eventually I decided he’d had enough. He was sobbing on the ground in a small pile of beautiful, bloody, submissive flesh. I put the whip down and laid on the ground beside him. He reached for me with a sweet desperation. I probably shouldn’t love that. But I do. It’s one of my favorite parts of our play. He needs to feel me. Feel me surrounding him with my arms and my acceptance and my love. He needs it like air. And I love him all the more for his unabashed neediness.
This time was different though. His sobbing was less heaving and more choking tears. It felt different to me as well. I asked him about it and my suspicions were confirmed. He didn’t experience the same moving kind of catharsis he usually does when I whip him that hard. I was hoping for that catharsis for him. That letting go and purging of emotions. But it doesn’t seem to work that way for him. Actually, it’s never worked that way for anyone I’ve played with. I begin to wonder if that “I will beat you because you need to let go!” is just a myth. I think the thing that helped the most was our being together. But maybe his being able to serve me by cooking, cleaning, and meeting my sadistic needs was more help than I think. I’ll have to ask him after more time has passed and he has some distance from it.
Posted in blood, bondage, D/s, just me, kink, love, musings, my life, play, the wild thing
Tagged bdsm, blood, bondage, D/s, dominance, femdom, kink, love, musings, my life, needs, play, relationships, S/m, submission, the wild thing, trust
From a writing on Fetlife by Girl_Named_Bill:
We didn’t know what we were doing (or what we were trying to do) had a name. And we didn’t know we were allowed to like it. We thought we were supposed to be ashamed. We just knew that there was this intense need to spend as much time as possible alone together in a place where we could safely and privately smash into each other.
I read this and was so sad that it took me half a lifetime to find someone that I want to smash into. The post also speaks of his desire to mark her. I have that. I want the entire world to know he’s MINE. I wish I could scream it from the rooftops. I wish I could tell the whole world: this one, you cannot have because he is MINE. I want to mark his flesh and I want to mark his soul. I want to smash into him. Overpower him. Take him down and claim a part of him that rests so deep inside that he didn’t even know it was there.
It’s terrible. I shouldn’t want this. Not because it’s inherently wrong, but because I know he won’t me mine forever. The intensity and passion and ownership will all be gone some day. And even knowing that, I still want to own a part of his soul. It’s irresponsible. It’s selfish. I still want it. I can’t help but want it. He said to me that his greatest fear is that this will be the best relationship of his life. I don’t think it will be. He’ll find someone that is and even better fit for him. Someone who can give him all of the things he needs that I can’t give him. I told him it won’t be. What I didn’t tell him is that I’m fairly certain that at this point in my life, I won’t have that same luxury.
Posted in D/s, just me, kink, love, musings, my life, play, the wild thing
Tagged bdsm, D/s, dominance, kink, love, musings, my life, needs, play, relationships, S/m, the wild thing, youth
11. What are your views on the ethics of kink?
I think it’s ethical if the people doing it are ethical people. Of course, there are no guarantees of this. Just as in every other walk of life, there are jerks, assholes, users, abusers, liars, scallywags, you get the picture. What I don’t think is that consensual inequality in relationships is inherently unethical.
12. Tell us about a humorous BDSM/kink experience you’ve had.
I once accidentally fried the Husband’s cock and balls due to a sub-par electrical device. It suddenly jumped all the way to the highest setting. He was yelling. I was freaking out. It was like some kind of kinky sitcom. After the fact (way after the fact), we laughed about it. However, in the moment it was all kinds of not funny. And the Husband was incredibly pissed off at me. From this we learned NOT to skimp on quality toys.
13. Explain as best you can what the appeal of kink/BDSM is to you. Why are you drawn to what you’re drawn to?
As best I can tell, I’m just wired this way. I am drawn to these things because I am. I wasn’t abused as a child or any other odd stereotypical tripe that gets bandied about. I grew up in a middle class home with loving parents. I had a boring and normal childhood. I will certainly say that I’m drawn to the possibilities that kink offers for artistic expression & vulnerability.
14. How would you say real life BDSM/kink varies from fantasy BDSM/kink?
In almost every conceivable way from the kink porn I’ve seen. The porn fantasy of BDSM/kink usually involves a one-dimensional, aloof, uncaring, inhumanly beautiful, latex-clad Vaklyrie doing exactly (and only) the things that the guy in said porn likes. And then she sucks his dick. While I love latex, consider myself attractive, and can bitch-queen it up as well as the next gal… I’m also much more than just those things. I have more dimensions. I also cry and laugh and read science fiction novels with my submissives. I love them fiercely. I do things with them and require things of them that they don’t like. And we all have lives outside of kink.
15. Post a BDSM/kink activity you are curious about and would like to try.
I have, for years, wanted to try saline infusion. I have specifically wanted to try scrotal infusion. Recently I’d also like to try giving the Wild Thing saline “implants.”
Posted in 30 days of kink, D/s, just me, kink, love, musings, my life, the husband, the wild thing
Tagged 30 days of kink, bdsm, D/s, femdom, kink, latex, musings, my life, play, relationships, S/m, the husband, the wild thing