Kinky parents

So I got this email the other day that was truly trollerific.  But it wasn’t even the entertaining kind of trolling that I can post and publicly make fun of.  It was just all a drag.

But he did ask one question and bring up one point that was valid:

Hasnt becoming a parent changed who you are as a Dominatrix?  How can you claim to be in a 24/7 relationship unless your committing child abuse?  So your either a liar or a child abuser.

M’kay, so first of all, *you’re.

Secondly, stop saying “Dominatrix.”  I’m a Dominant.  Yes, I know they’re still technically the same thing, but the mental image conjured by each word is different.

It’s like the difference between “panties” and “underwear.”  They describe the same thing, but the mental image is very different.

And thirdly (and I know I’ve mentioned this before), BDSM is a kink.  It encompasses all the insanely fun and depraved things I love doing to my boys.

I know no one who reads this thinks I’m kinky 24/7.  My sex drive is high, but it’s not that high.

On the other hand, D/s refers specifically to a relationship dynamic.  Meaning it pertains exclusively to the way partners relate to one another and interact with one another within the strictures of their relationship.

In my relationships, I am in charge.  That doesn’t change when my kid is around.  It doesn’t change when the in-laws or friends are around.  It’s not a role I play or a costume I wear, it’s literally who I am and how I relate to people.

And it’s not abnormal in the slightest, just by the way.  Women having power within a relationship is not a new or strange thing.

In my mom’s southern family, the wife is always in charge, and when Grandma speaks, everyone shuts up and listens.

And especially in the Mexican side of my family, no one ever fucks with the matriarch. You never want a Latina bitch mad at you, m’kay.  And when you’re married to one, and you live with her and she knows where you sleep, you do what the fuck you’re told.

I’ve spent enough time with my Mexican cousins.  They never discipline their kids (like, at all), but they damn sure have their husbands well-trained.

The point is that having an unbalanced power dynamic in a relationship is not “new” or “kinky.”  It’s completely mainstream for the woman in any given relationship to have more power within the relationship itself.  My relationships just take that to a slightly higher level.

But there’s this habit a lot of people not in D/s relationships tend to do, and that’s to assume that real life is the same as the Femdom porn videos you see online.

Like, do you honestly think I’m just having nonstop orgies in front of my kid, and that’s all there is to a FemDom relationship?

Uh, no.  It’s a relationship.  It, like all relationships, requires work.  Compromise.  Give and take.  Honest, open communication.

There are bills to pay.  Errands to run.  Groceries to buy.  A house to maintain.  Sometimes shit happens that interferes with my kink life.

Reality is not a porno, y’all.  I don’t make Kazander strip down to his panties and stay on all fours as soon as he gets home from work.  I don’t do anything kinky in front of my kid.

Because she’s six.

And even if she was old enough to mentally handle something like that, just ew.  I can’t think of anything more uncomfortable than my daughter being that knowledgeable about my sex life.

What I do with her father, behind closed doors, is none of anyone’s business, including hers.

But my relationship dynamic?  I don’t hide that, because there’s nothing to hide.  She knows Mommy is the one in charge.  She knows Mommy is the one who makes the decisions, and she knows not to fuck with Mommy.

She also knows that I treat Kazander with respect, and I listen when he speaks.  She knows that love and happiness are not things you have, but things you do.  It takes work.

Creating a submissive mindset

One of the things I’ve been asked most often by inexperienced Dominant women is how to create a submissive headspace in their partner.

And yeah, it can be tough.  Real life and its responsibilities can make things difficult, and put a sub’s headspace far from where it should be.

The best way, in my experience, is to appeal to the sub’s lust and desire, and combine that with surprise and humiliation.  This combination creates a firm reminder of his position in the relationship, and the surprise is to jar his head a bit, to break the hold that the real-world bullshit has on him.

Interestingly enough, I was just talking today about something I’ve done to surprise and alter my boys’ headspace, so I figured I’d do it again tonight.

Kazander’s had a rough couple of weeks at work.  Like, rough enough that he may start looking for a new job.  And rough enough that trying to achieve a submissive headspace when he gets home takes a lot of effort.

There are a number of ways to combat this.  But one of the most effective is one of the simplest.  You can’t do it often, or it’ll lose some of the effectiveness, but when it’s done right, it works wonders.

I told him to text me when he was on his way home from work.  As soon as I got his text, I took the kid next door and left her with the SIL, who had agreed to watch her for a few minutes.

Then I grabbed my strap-on.

I was standing there, with the strap-on harness on and lube in hand, when he walked in the door.

I’ve done this to him before, but not for a long time, so he was sufficiently surprised.  After a long day, it was the last thing he expected.

Without a word, I grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.  I bent him over the back of the couch and reached around to unbutton his pants.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” he said.  He’d just gotten home from a long day in a warehouse with no climate control.

But honestly, I don’t care.  So what if it’s a little dirty?  There’s this new invention out, brand spanking new, just hit the market today.

It’s called soap.  And indoor plumbing.

And I felt like objectifying him just then.

“Shut up,” I told him, pulling his jeans down and exposing his ass.  And as soon as I did, his lust took over (I know, it doesn’t take much).  When he felt my hands on his thighs, he moaned softly and pushed his ass out, wanting to be fucked.

Such an eager anal slut.

I didn’t say anything as I started pounding him.  In that moment, he wasn’t a man, he wasn’t a person.  He was just a hole for me to take my enjoyment from, and I wanted to make sure he knew it.

The play didn’t last long.  It didn’t have to.  After I’d had my fill of fucking him, I pulled out, spanked him once, then just walked away and left him there with his pants around his ankles.

He sighed and pulled up his pants, his headspace firmly where I wanted it, the rough day at work forgotten.  After we’d cleaned up, he dropped to his knees behind me and asked to kiss my ass and my feet before we went to get the kid.

All in all, it lasted barely twenty minutes.  And he was in a much more relaxed and submissive state of mind the entire night.  Just twenty minutes, that’s all it took.

It’s so simple, but so effective.

King of the castle

I’m a heterosexual submissive woman who has always been simultaneously turned off and fascinated by submissive men, and I was hoping you could maybe shed some light on them, and why you’re attracted to them.

For me, I’m turned on when I see a man in all his glory, strong, powerful, and in control.  It’s so hot knowing that he has that strength in him.

And it feels so secure knowing that he has everything.  That he can handle everything.  All I need to do is trust him and do what he says and everything will be alright.

I’m a strong woman.  I love the quote “Don’t look for a princess in need of saving.  Look for a queen willing to fight by your side.”  I could never take a weak man seriously.  I need a strong man.  It takes a King to rule me.  Nothing less.

I couldn’t imagine a relationship with a man who isn’t capable of handling me.

But I’ve talked to a couple of submissive men and I’m wondering if maybe I’m way off base here and there’s like this whole element I’m missing.  Am I missing anything here?

What is it about submissive men that you find attractive?  Why do you prefer them over a good Dominant man?

Haven’t you ever just wanted to relax and let someone else take the lead?

No.

No I have not.

I’m guessing you’re a new-ish reader.  Welcome to the blog, and thank you for writing.

But I have to ask…  Did you happen to notice those tabs there on the left?  At the top of the side bar?

Does no one read anymore?

You want to know what I love about submissive men?  That link is a good start.

As turned off as you are by submissive men, multiply that by a few thousand and you’ll begin to hold a candle to a fraction of how I feel about most Dominant men.

They don’t just turn me off.  They literally repulse me.  Whenever a guy starts to get all “Domly” with me, it makes my skin crawl.  Even thinking about it makes me cringe.

Sounder once described a conversation with a Dom douchebag, who told him,”The king gets to fuck the queen, and all you get to do is lie at her feet.”

His response was, “Any weak, self-absorbed asshole can fuck someone.  But to protect and serve a queen requires actual strength and fortitude.”

Now, don’t get me wrong.  You’re into Dominant men.  What turns me off to them probably turns you on.  You and I are apparently on complete opposite sides of the spectrum.

And that’s fine.  That’s the kind of man you want, that’s the kind of relationship you want, and more power to you.  It’s all about what makes you happy.  You seem to know what makes you happy, and that’s a good thing.

But you’ll have to forgive me for raising an eyebrow or two as I read this.

First of all, regarding weak men.  There is nothing wrong with weak men.  Not everyone can be a hero.  Not everyone has that strength of spirit.  I have loved my fair share of weak men, and there’s just something so guileless and trusting and vulnerable in the way they love.  It’s unique to them, and they have their place.  They’re beautiful, their weakness is beautiful.

But I know you don’t think all submissive men are weak (or that all weak men are submissive.  I can list a terrifying number of weak “Doms”).

You’re a submissive and you claim you’re a strong person.  I believe you.  My reasons for believing you, despite the fact that I don’t know you, bear a post of their own, but for now, we’ll just simplify it and say I fully believe you are a strong person.

If you’re a submissive, and a strong person, why would you think that wouldn’t be true for a submissive man?

Have you read any of my posts describing my subs?  They’re the strongest people I’ve ever met.  The things they’ve endured, the things they’ve been through, the way they’ve come out the other side, stronger and harder, is awe-inspiring.  All three of them have impressed and astounded me.  They’re absolutely incredible, and I consider myself lucky to own them.

You talk about kings.  My subs are the kings in my world.  But they do not rule me.  I rule them.

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My world is like chess.  The king doesn’t hold the power; the queen does.  The game is won or lost by her decisions.  The king lives or dies by her choices.  She leads the army, she charges into battle, and she fiercely protects her king.

She’s brutal.  And manipulative.  And relentless.  No one questions her.  No one challenges her.

That’s my world.  And it takes a strong man to handle me, to handle what I put them through, what I make them endure.  I’m not gentle with my boys.  And there have been many who simply couldn’t handle what I wanted.

Kazander, Steel, and Sounder are strong men who can handle me, can handle being owned by me and can handle being in a relationship with me.

That asshat Dom claimed he was a king, but he was just a little boy who wanted to boss someone around.  And sadly, there are a great number of pricks like him.  I could never respect a man like that.  I could never take him seriously.

I love Sounder’s response to him.  But that Dom wasn’t a king.  Sounder is.  He deserves every bit of the respect I feel for him.  He has the strength and fortitude it takes to serve selflessly, to put someone else’s wants and needs before his own.

It’s like a conversation I had with Steel recently, about why I wasn’t actively looking to have penetrative PIV sex.  Because anyone can fuck.  But it takes a special kind of man to give me what I want, who can meet my depravity with eagerness, who can willingly follow me down that dark, twisted path.

Anyone can hold a woman down and fuck her.  Dominant men and the people who like them are fine, and have every right to have what they want, have the relationship they want.  But to me, there’s just nothing special about a Dominant man.  They’re a dime a dozen.  And I’ve only ever met one I could respect.

Submissive men are special.  They’re incredible.  They’re admirable and wonderful, and I could fill page after page with words about how much I love them.

My subs are the kings of my world, and they have the strength and fortitude necessary to serve me selflessly and follow me wholeheartedly.

The last two nights

**Notice**

This post contains a picture of needle play.

I love needle play.  The more I do of it, the more I love it.

The more I do it, the more I want to do it.

I was invited to a FemDom dinner at Sadie’s the other night, and asked her if I could grab a couple of hypodermic needles from her.  She opened up her massive box-o-sharp-shit and said, “You’re going to have to narrow it down.  What are you going to use it for?”

“Punishment.”

She grinned — a grin Kazander says he’s seen too many times on my face, and I love seeing on hers.  God, I fucking love that chick — and handed me four needles, still in their packaging.

“Oh wait,” she said, grabbing one more.  “Take this one, too.  If you really want to get your point across.”

I looked through the packaging at the needle inside and my jaw dropped.  “What the fuck is this even used for?” I asked.

“You mean medically?  I have no idea.  It’s pretty, right?”

“Fuck yes it’s pretty!”

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She gave me 4 mean needles (only 3 pictured) and one massive bitch of a needle, that I cannot wait to stick through a scrotum or cock.

So the next time I need to punish one of my boys, those things are coming out.

I had a few needles left over from Sounder’s play party, and decided it was time to try those out.

So last night, I paused the show we were watching and turned to Kazander.

“Is needle play still a hard limit?”

“It’s not a hard limit so much as a soft limit.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’m willing to try it if it’ll turn you on.”

He says my whole face lit up at that point.  “It’ll turn me on!”

So I pulled out the needles, gloves, and alcohol and practically tore his clothes off.

It didn’t matter that the needles were small, and it wasn’t going to cause him a lot of pain.  It didn’t matter that it was going to be short-lived, and I would take the needles back out soon.

I just wanted to shove pointy things in him.

So I did.

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And they look so pretty

And really, he handled it pretty well.  Once I had all three in, I asked him how he was doing, and he said he was fine.  It wasn’t something he enjoyed, but something he would tolerate for my enjoyment.  And he’s willing to try staples and sutures, as well.

So I’m happy with that.  That was a good night.

Then, tonight, I spent the evening with Sounder.  He wasn’t feeling well, so we decided to skip the playing and sit on the couch, watching TV and having a couple drinks instead.

And I swear, that was my full intention.

But I pulled him close and wrapped my arm around him, and just started running my fingers across his arm, shoulder, and chest.  And when I felt his nipple, nice and hard, through his shirt, I couldn’t help but hurt it.

It wasn’t even really a conscious decision.  I pulled him close because I like having him close.  There was nothing nefarious there.  It was a simple, innocent desire to cuddle.  I ran my fingers across his body because that’s a habit of mine.

Still innocent.

Even the first few seconds that I teased his nipple, it wasn’t with any sort of intention.  But then, with that first little gasp of his, the sadist in me sprang to fucking life and you’d think I hadn’t fed her in weeks.  She was starving, and the only thing that can satisfy that particular hunger is a sweet, adorable sub writhing in pain.

The more I hurt him, the more he squirmed, and the more I wanted to hurt him.  When I reached down and felt that he was hard, it only made me want to hurt him more.

I pulled him closer and bit down hard on the back of his neck, making him gasp.  I dragged my nails up and down his back, I bit him, I pinched him and dug my nails into his nipples and cock, and I loved the way he writhed in my lap.

An hour later than I intended, I finally let him up and grabbed my things to go.  As he was walking me to my car, he said, “I don’t know how you pulled that off.”

“How I pulled what off?”

“We were just sitting on the couch.  Watching TV.  Innocently.”

I grinned.  “There’s no such thing as innocent.”

I swear, y’all, I actually am capable of being completely vanilla and keeping my hands off of my toys when I need to.  I can keep control and not paw at them like pieces of meat.  I know this because I’ve been in public with my subs before.  Because I’ve had subs at family gatherings before.  Everything has been completely vanilla.

So I actually am capable of not treating Sounder like an object to amuse and entertain me.

Just not all the time, apparently.

Don’t touch me

I like to cuddle just as much as the next person.  I love lying in bed with Kazander resting his head on my shoulder, his arms and legs wrapped around me.  I love sitting on the couch with Sounder and pulling him close.  I love when Steel curls up in my lap.

It feels awesome, and I love it.

But there is one thing I love decidedly more than cuddling.  And that is sleeping.

Cuddle all you want.  But when I’m ready to roll over and go to sleep, get the fuck off me and stay on your side of the bed.

Like seriously.  Stay there.  Sleep time and cuddle time do not overlap.

I’ve been told I can be downright mean in the middle of the night if someone comes up behind me to spoon while I’m asleep.

Which, by the way, I don’t remember doing.  But multiple partners have told me that over the years, who have never met or spoken to each other, so I assume it’s true.  And I have gotten better about that.  Now, for whatever reason (maybe I’m just more aware of it) it’ll wake me up, and I’ll make sure I’m nice.

When Kazander has done that, I’ll wake up, put my hand over his, and let him spoon until I get hot or uncomfortable, then I’ll wake up again, push him off me, and go back to sleep.  No meanness.

Also, waking me up in the morning can often require a hostage-negotiator level of tact and diplomacy.  Although again, I’ve gotten better.  I don’t throw my phone at whoever is trying to wake me up anymore usually.

It’s part of my neuroses.  I like my sleep. And I am the polar opposite of a morning person.  I once lamented to Sounder that I had to wake up at the ass-crack of dawn for something (ie, 8 am).

I like my sleep.  And I like my space when I sleep.

Kazander has taken that a step further.  Over the last few months, he’s started to sleep on the couch in the living room.

He’s not there every night, but definitely most.  He maybe only sleeps in bed with me once a week or so.

And I love this arrangement.  Particularly since, regardless of how big the bed is, he likes to sleep on-fucking-top of me.

It’s sweet, and I can’t be mad at him for wanting to be close, but ugh, get off me.

The couch thing didn’t start because of an argument or anything.  We can blame it on the spawn, actually.  She’s not a morning person, either (which makes me sublimely happy), but she does have the habit of coming into our room at 4 or 5 in the morning, wanting to watch TV or some water or whateverthefuckelse a 4-year-old can think of, and falling back asleep either in our bed or in her bean bag chair.

I can wake up, put on Peppa Pig (which I’m convinced was created by angry child-haters bent on getting back at all the people who reproduced.  Like, a bunch of people sat in a room and said, “All these fucking obnoxious kids are everywhere.  We hate them.  How can we get revenge on those stupid assholes who created them?  What is the absolute worst thing we could do to torture them for making all these fucking kids?”  And the answer to that was Peppa Pig.  I’m serious, it’s fucking brutal.  You cannot convince me that show was created under any other circumstances).

What was I talking about?

So I can wake up, get her whatever she needs, and fall immediately back to sleep.  Kazander cannot.  When she comes in at 3am and wakes us up, he can’t get back to sleep.  He’s up for the rest of the night.

So he took to sleeping on the couch, she leaves him alone, he gets a full night’s sleep, and I get the bed to myself and don’t have a 10,000 degree blanket wanting to get all up on me in the middle of the night.

Everyone wins.

And with nights like tonight, it’s actually kind of hot.

We were getting ready for bed, I was standing in the bedroom next to the bed, plugging my phone in, when he came up to hug me.  I smacked his ass, and when he tried his typical move of pushing me off balance so I fall onto the bed, I responded by hip-tossing him onto the bed instead  (which, due to a recent shoulder injury, is a move I’m hugely regretting right now.  Not my brightest moment.  But he wasn’t expecting it, and his reaction was hot, so it was worth it).

I held his arms down and bit his nipples and his ear, grinning when he gasped and squirmed.

Really, he squirms so pretty.

Funny how a knee placed strategically between his legs quiets that squirming, though.

He tried to adjust my grip or move my hand or something, I don’t know, so I let go of one wrist to roughly shove his head to the side and bite his neck, while rubbing his dick with my knee.

“You’re my bitch,” I whispered, gripping his balls hard enough to make him moan.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Say it.”

“I’m your bitch.”

“Good boy.  Now get the fuck off my bed.  Hurry up, or you’ll end up sleeping in a kennel in the closet.”

He whined once, then got off the bed, dropped to his knees, and kissed my ass like the good bitch he is before going back out to the living room for the night.

Punishment in the day-to-day

Domina Jen,

I’ve never been all that interested in D/s outside of the bedroom.  I guess you’d say I’m a bottom, rather than a sub.  But one of the biggest issues I have with a 24/7 D/s relationship, and the biggest reason I think it doesn’t work in the long run, is this idea of punishment.

You talk about respecting your subs, but how can you respect someone when you punish them?  Isn’t that treating them like children?  How does punishment and the ability to punish a sub for their mistakes fit into a healthy relationship?

Anonymous

Well…

First of all, define “long run.”  Because I have a 6-year-long relationship and two year-ish-long relationships that say you’re full of shit, bro.  Just because it may not work for you doesn’t mean it doesn’t work.

And I have to laugh whenever people claim that punishment only exists in D/s relationships.  Because it’s absolutely not true.

I’m going to quote Steel here.  You can see a sub’s point of view on it.  Now he’s never been punished by me, but this is not his first D/s relationship, and he’s familiar with the practice.

Anyone who’s suffered through a lengthy drive in silence can attest to the fact that punishments exist in conventional relationships. However, behavior is coded in faux-egalitarianism and therefore erratic and often arbitrary. In contrast, those living in a lifestyle BDSM relationship usually have an explicit binary of power and specific rules which, if broken, lead to a submissive being punished.

Punishment is not an exclusively D/s thing.  Regulated punishment is an exclusively D/s thing.

D/s relationships don’t just work, they work better (in my experience) than vanilla ones, because, in no small part, of those blue sentences up there.

In a D/s relationship, expectations are hammered out in agonizing detail, rules are set and agreed upon, and the dynamic is given quite a bit more attention than in your average conventional relationship.  Partners are expected to talk about their needs/wants/desires/fantasies, sexual or otherwise.  The level of communication required for a successful D/s relationship far surpasses that for a vanilla one.

There are things I know about the men I’ve owned for a year or less that my friends don’t know about the husbands they’ve been married to for a decade or more.  And when you suggest they talk to their husbands, the answer is always the same.  They’re too nervous or scared to say what they want.  They don’t feel comfortable talking about sex.  It’s too taboo.

So when you have a relationship where neither partner feels comfortable enough to talk, how can expectations be hashed out with any degree of clarity?  And when one partner falls short of those unspoken expectations, there’s no telling what kind of behavior that will cause.

In my relationships, if a sub falls short of my expectations, they know exactly what will happen.  I may be angry, sure, or disappointed.  But there won’t be any cold shoulders, pouting, foot-stomping, or passive-aggressive remarks.

There will be a single punishment, with a clear beginning and a clear end, and then life goes on.  There’s no need to bring it up again in two weeks or two months or two years down the line.  And there’s no need for them to continue beating themselves up for a mistake.  It’s handled, it’s over, and we both move on with no fighting or arguing.

Sometimes, of course, a discussion needs to be had about what caused the behavior, and if there are any adjustments that should be made to the relationship.

But if there’s a problem with the dynamic, or if a need isn’t being met, then fuck yes I’m going to punish them for acting out instead of talking to me about it long before it got to that point.  I’m not an unreasonable person, and my subs are not children.  They have a voice.  And they’ve been with me long enough to know that I expect them to tell me when there’s a problem, and that they can expect me to listen patiently, and with compassion and understanding.

If I don’t know something’s wrong, I can’t fix it.  And I take no responsibility for failing to fix a problem I didn’t know existed.  They’re grown-ass men, and I expect them to have the balls to talk to me like an adult instead of acting out like children.  Fuck yes, I will punish them for that 100% of the time.

Still, they have a voice, even in punishment.  Not a loud one, but again, I’m not unreasonable.  If there’s something wrong in a relationship, my goal is to find out what it is and fix it.  But they know what I expect of them.

Now it’s important to note that I have expectations I need to meet, too.  Every Dominant does.  And my subs know that they can always talk to me about those expectations.  I don’t pretend to be perfect.  I know I’m going to fuck up at some point.

Should I fall short of those expectations, do they have the power to punish me?  Hell no.  And should there be a lengthy drive in silence, cold shoulders, or passive aggressive remarks, I know how to remind them of their place and get to the root of the problem.

So no, they cannot punish me.  They aren’t even given the opportunity to do it by more “conventional” methods.  Is that unfair?  Perhaps, but it goes right back to the very first lesson my mentor taught me.

A submissive gives up control for freedom.  A Dominant gives up freedom for control.  I don’t have the freedom to lose my temper or get petty or do any of that bullshit.  I’ve always got to be aware of that.

Do I fuck up sometimes?  Sure.  But I expect my boys to tell me when it happens and help me get back on track.

I actually fucked up just recently, with Kazander.  We’ve been dealing with a shitload of problems with his family (and depending how things go when his parents get home, we might actually be in the market for a new place to live, it’s gotten that fucking bad) and up until recently, I’ve been handling it all.

Weeks of that wears a person down, and I’ll admit, I’d been grouchy all that evening.  And I was unintentionally taking it out on Kazander, snapping at him for no real reason.  Finally, he said:

“I know you’re stressed.  But remember, you’re pissed at them, not at me.”

I immediately realized what I’d been doing.  “Fuck, you’re right.  I’m sorry.”

And things went back to normal after that.  I realized that I was falling short of my expectations of myself, and I was falling short of Kazander’s expectations of me.  And he deserves better than that.  All three of my boys deserve better than that.

Had he been the one snapping at me, I would have spanked him or done some other punishment.  He doesn’t have the power to do that to me, and he never will.

Is that unfair?  Yes, I suppose so.  But a D/s dynamic is an inherently unfair one.  I call the shots.  He doesn’t.  Steel doesn’t.  Sounder doesn’t.  No man or woman I ever own will.

That’s why my relationships work.

Coining!!

What happens when you combine a regular, unassuming coin with some tiger balm?

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This fucking awesomeness, right here.

I went to Sadie’s tonight, and she had just heard about an ancient Chinese healing technique called “coining.”

She’d never heard of it before, but she researched it and, being the sadist she is, fell in love.

Hearing her talk about it made me, the sadist that I am, fall in love.

So after a class on abrasion play (my shopping list just quadrupled in size, btw) she handed me a big, fancy Chinese coin.

Coining is actually a legitimate healing technique that is said to release toxins from the body, just like fire cupping. And as you can see, it leaves fantastic marks, that supposedly stay for days.

Kazander is not a masochist. But even he said there was very little pain involved, and the pain he did experience was minor.

But to look at his back, you’d think I wailed on him. That picture was taken about 20 minutes after I’d finished, and really the picture doesn’t do it justice (I couldn’t get the color to look accurate in my camera).

It’s soooo pretty. And soooo much fun to look at.

If you’re interested in learning how, I definitely recommend finding a professional to teach you. But as far as edgy BDSM play goes, this is on the safer side. All you do is rub tiger balm (or icy hot, or whatever) on a sub’s back, and then use repeated firm downward strokes along the back, moving away from the heart. There are youtube videos of it everywhere. One professional assured a vlogger that it’s safe for pregnant women, elderly, and children (although in the US, people have been reported for child abuse after seeing the marks. I’m not kidding, the picture doesn’t do it justice. If I saw that on a little kid and had no idea it was a relatively painless ancient healing technique, I’d call the police immediately).

It’s often used in conjunction with fire cupping, and Kazander said it was rather relaxing, and felt like a massage. Sure some areas began to hurt after a minute, but he was completely stunned when I showed him the pictures of his back, and he realized how dark the marks are.

He said, “It didn’t feel like you were doing anything.”

So coining. Lots of awesomeness. Yet another technique to add to my arsenal.

 

Nightmare

What do most people do when they wake up from a nightmare?

They might shake it off, grab some water, do something to get their mind off it, then go back to bed.

Which is exactly what I did last night. But I wanted some help getting my mind off of it.

After lying back down in bed, Kazander rolled over, onto his back, resting his head in the crook of my arm, his hand on my thigh, still half asleep.

So I tightened my arm around his neck, choking him. And the way he squirmed and whimpered was so sweet. He writhed next to me on the bed, gripping my arm until I finally let him go, and he lied there, panting.

I spent a few minutes choking him, pinching his nipples, and hurting him. It was fun, but I didn’t wake him up to hurt him.

I grabbed a handful of his hair and shoved him down the bed, between my legs, where I held him there and grinded against his tongue, making him lick me to an orgasm.

Apparently I was a little rough with him. I woke up this morning feeling sore and bruised. When I told him about he, he told me I cut his lip by grinding so hard against him.

Oh well. At least I slept well after that.

Oral sex for stress relief

So I have my quirks.

But it’s alright.  I’ve embraced my neuroses, and the people in my life either keep up or fade away.  Or they get violently booted out of my life and I set their car on fire.

(metaphorically, people)

Red looks like he’s going to be one of the latter.  I woke up to a 6-text-long tirade about Texas being controlling and abusive, and (and this is what set off my burn-it-all-to-the-ground-o-meter) implying that I was going to get her killed by allowing him to stay with her.

I organized my thoughts, wrote a reply, but hesitated before sending it.  It’s one of those point-of-no-return things.  I mean every damn word I wrote, and will say it to his face (and a good deal of it, I have said to his face), but I send that, and I’ll most likely lose Red as a friend.  More than that, my whole family and Kazander’s family will lose him as a friend.

It’ll be a pretty complete bridge burning.

So instead, I talked to Sounder.  I showed him the texts and the reply I had cocked and ready, and vented to him a bit.  He listened patiently, offered some advice and wisdom, and helped me get centered again.  I decided not to send it, hoping that Red would calm down and cool off.

Now I don’t think I have a choice.  A conversation after dinner with Kazander’s sister and her husband let me know that there was no way to fix this situation if Red doesn’t back off, and it’ll just continue to escalate.

The problem is that there is only one man somewhat capable of physically restraining Red, should the shit hit the fan and he decide to go after Texas.  That man is Kazander, and despite Kazander being a great deal taller than Red, he’ll still have trouble.  My brother in law has been sick for years and is not in shape to restrain him.

More than that, BIL is going out of town for work, and will be gone for weeks.  Kazander works during the day.  That leaves his sister and me.

I am no delicate fucking flower.  I’m 5’9,” I’ve taught martial arts, and I can take care of myself.  But I’m not in the shape I was in when I taught martial arts, and I don’t lift weights every day, like he does.  SIL and I won’t be able to hold him if he decides to go after Texas.  And it’s just us and the kids during the day.

SIL is not the most emotionally stable person to begin with, and the stress and tension is getting to her.  She feels uncomfortable in her own house, the kids feel uncomfortable, and even I’m uncomfortable as fuck with this whole thing.

Red’s getting worse.  He blew up my phone, Kazander’s phone, SIL’s phone, and my mother in law’s phones today.  He’s being threatening, crossing limits, and bullying the people not strong enough to tell him to fuck off.

Fine.  So he’s worried about people being “controlling?”  Oh, he’ll get “controlling.”

You’ve never seen “controlling” until you’ve pissed off a Dominant.  It took him weeks, but today he finally managed to piss me off.

The first thing I did after reading his text in the morning was to tell Lia to block his number again, and she is not to unblock it, for any reason, without my permission.  I spoke with SIL after dinner and asked if she’d be alright if I took point on the whole thing, and her response was an immediate “Yes, please.”

“Great.  So change the locks.  This weekend.  He’s not sneaking up on us again and showing up unexpectedly like he did last time.”

“It’ll be done.”

“Good.  I’ll tell him that I blocked his number from Lia’s phone, that I changed the locks, and that I will not allow him around her without another adult present.  If he calls or texts you or your mom, tell him he can talk to me if he has a problem.”

“Done.”

He’s never seen “controlling.”  Oh, but he will.  And I can out-bully any bully.

I never once claimed to be a good person, people.

So this whole thing is going to explode spectacularly.  It’s great.  Everything is great.

It’s great.

So there’s been a bit of stress.  And I needed to relieve some of it.

Enter my husband.

He’s been a bit tense with this whole thing, and the regular work nonsense, and with my tension and stress, not much kinky fun has been going on.

That needed to change.  So last night, he fell asleep on the couch, and I decided I wanted to cum.

What is one to do when one wants oral and one’s submissive is sleeping on the couch?

Wake him up by straddling him and shoving one’s pussy in his face.

Naturally.

It was so cute.  For the first few seconds, he was all confused.  But then, when he realized what was being shoved in his mouth, he suddenly became quite eager and wrapped his arms around my waist as I rode his face.

But I can’t cum while sitting up, and wanted to lie down and relax and make him do all the work, anyway.  We went to the bedroom, where I grabbed him by his hair and shoved him back between my legs.  He obediently licked like the good little bitch he is, and I decided to reward him by letting him cum.

One of my favorite ways to make him cum is by letting him hump my leg.  Like a cute little dog.  So he laid his head on my hip, wrapped his body around my leg, and humped enthusiastically while I reminded him why he can’t fuck me like a real man.

It was fun.

Oh, and in other news, I’m going to visit my psychotic mother in a couple of months.  Spending twelve days with her is not something I’m looking forward to.  And even Sounder expressed sympathy for whatever poor North Carolinian idiot happens to say the wrong thing when I’m already on edge from being with my mother, and ends up getting his hair/clothes/car/house/whatever set on fire.

The boy knows me too well.

So it’s going to be interesting.

But

There is one bright spot to that visit, and that’s Steel.  I haven’t seen him since December, and the distance is really weighing heavy on both of us.

I hate when he crashes, or feels lost and lonely, and I can’t be there to help him.  I don’t do “helpless” well, and knowing someone I love is suffering because I’m not there, and knowing that I can’t make it stop, bothers the hell out of me.  There is no combination of words in any language to describe my eagerness in seeing him again.

I arranged for my flight to get in to the city he lives in, rather than the city closest to where my mom lives.  He’s going to pick me up from the airport, we’ll get some dinner, and then he’ll drive me to my mom’s house.

I’ll have the spawn with me, so there won’t be able to be any super amazing fun, but we’re both at a point where we just need some time together, regardless of the setting and what we can or cannot do.  That and he really needs to feel my collar again.  I keep his collar with me (it’s with me 24/7) and it bothers him when he can’t wear it.  He asked if I’d be willing to lock it around his neck as soon as I see him at the airport.

Of course that was already my plan.  He’s not the only one who dislikes the absence of the collar.  He’s mine.  He’s collared and owned, and I’m proud as fuck to own him.  Of course I want him to wear it all the time.

And he will, when he’s with me, where he belongs.  I’ll lock it on him and it won’t come off.  For now, separated by a country, we do what we can.

He’ll get a few hours of wearing it that first night.  It’s a bit of a drive from his city to the little town where my mom lives.  And then we’ll work on arranging a second, more private visit, in which he can spend some time naked, plugged, collared, and curled up in my lap.

Having that time with him will go a long way toward not setting the state on fire.

How to find a Domme

The most common question I’ve gotten the last couple millennia has been;

I’m a submissive man.  How do I find a Domme?

Your first message should be friendly, polite, show who you are as a person, rather than a submissive, and show a desire to learn about the Dom/me as a person.  I can’t speak for male Doms, but for Dommes, there is nothing more annoying than messages talking only about kink, even if written with the best intentions.

Here’s a common message I get, and something many men seem to think is acceptable.

Dear Mistress/Goddess/Whatever

I saw your profile and I love it.  I’m totally into foot play, and have always wanted a sexy Domme like you to step on me.  I would love blah blah blah (all about his fantasies, his desires, and what he wants from me, without a single detail about who he is outside of his kinks, and without remotely expressing a desire to get to know me outside of the kinks I can satisfy for him).

You’re so sexy and I hope to serve you.

Random well-meaning sub

And the sad thing is that the man who sends this actually thinks he’s doing something good.  And these aren’t stupid or childish people.  The most recent example I got of this was written by an educated, 42-year-old professional.

I’m assuming he’s not an idiot.  Just like I assume almost every other man who writes that same kind of message isn’t an idiot.  So why do men think this sort of thing is okay?

And you have no idea how often I get these messages.  Or long-winded, 5,000-word diatribes detailing his fantasy, that he needs a warm body to act out with.

Even worse are the one-line messages that don’t say anything.

“Hi.”

“How r u?”

“What’s up?”

“Wut r u up 2?”

I mean, guys.  First of all, chat speak doesn’t turn anyone on.  Stop doing it.

Secondly, guys.  I’m fucking busy.  I don’t have time to engage in small talk with people I don’t know.  I don’t care how your day went.  I don’t care what you had for dinner.  I don’t fucking know you.  And messages like that do not, in any way, inspire me to get to know you.

It’s lazy.  It’s annoying.

And this is so common, you’d be utterly shocked.

I feel bad for all those men who get so frustrated, just unable to understand what they’re doing wrong.  So, since I’m in a good mood, I’ll explain it. 

Here’s a secret for you: Dommes online are already on the defensive simply because of the messages we get on a daily basis.  We see a message in our inbox from someone we don’t know and are expecting the same thing we always get: online catcalls.  Or insults.

When she opens that messsage, she is expecting you to be a douche.  She has already decided in her head that you’re a douche.  It’s up to you to prove her wrong.  And messages like the one above, while written with the best of intentions, do not prove her wrong.

Starting on literally my third day of being on Collarspace and Fetlife, I was firmly in that mindset.  And without exception, every single message I receive from someone I don’t know, I expect to be either a one-sentence, please-let-me-suck-on-your-toes nonsense, or some crappy, long-winded, please-let-me-suck-on-your-toes nonsense.  I’ve already decided that the author of the message is a tool, before opening the message.

Why?  Because the author of every other message for the past month has been a tool.  Your message is just the next one on the list.

Is it fair to you?  Maybe not.  But it’s your species that did it (and often you, in particular, helped contribute to it), so now it’s up to you to prove her wrong.

And I mean that.  If you’ve ever written to me or approached me on either Fetlife or Collarspace, I want you to know that I thought you were a douche as soon as I saw the light blue name, or as soon as I saw the new message notification on Fet.  I clicked on the message, thinking, “Alright, what does this douche want?”

In most cases, I was right, and you were, in fact, a douche.

In a few, I was proven very wrong.

In this case, I like being proven wrong.  It’s a really good feeling, after days and weeks of online catcalls, to receive an intelligent message written by someone interested in me, rather than the fact that the color of my screen name is red and there’s the word Domina in front of my name.

And seriously guys, that’s pretty sad.  When a Dominant woman opens a thoughtful, respectful message from a complete stranger, and it’s such a rare phenomenon that it literally makes her day, that’s just sad.

A Dominant woman should not be relieved to be seen as a human being by a submissive man.  And the fact that 99% of submissive men online seem to think that this is okay astounds me.  If you go to a munch, do you approach Dommes like that in person?

No.  And do you know why you don’t approach Dommes like that in person?

Because you don’t go to munches.

And that is the single most annoying, irritating, frustrating, sometimes even infuriating thing about submissive men.  You don’t go to munches.  You don’t want anyone to know you’re a sub.

I will take a moment to acknowledge that occasionally, there may be a legitimate reason to need a level of discretion that a bar or restaurant may not be able to provide.  For the other 97% of you, you’re pissing us the fuck off.

Why?  Well, let’s answer that question with another question.  Why won’t you go to a munch?

Whatever reason you may have (and honey, I’ve heard them all), it always boils down to one thing: You’re ashamed.

Pretty it up however you want.  You’re ashamed of being submissive, and you’re ashamed of others knowing that you’re submissive.  You just can’t bear to have your orientation publicly acknowledged.  You can’t bear to have other men know that you’re submissive.

And you all can just fuck right off with that.

Would you like to know what that looks like from our point of view?  Would you like to know what you’re saying to us by keeping all of this so goddamn deep in the closet, it might as well be fucking Narnia?  I’ll break it down for you.

You’re ashamed of being submissive.  Which means you’re ashamed of being the submissive partner in a D/s dynamic.  Which means you’re ashamed of a Femdom D/s relationship.  Which means you’re ashamed of us, and the dynamic we represent.

Which makes us feel unwanted, and undesirable.

That’s what you’re telling us by refusing to be open (among other kinky people) about your orientation.  If you’re ashamed to tell a kinky person that you are submissive, and you’re ashamed to tell a kinky person that you submit to me, then you’re ashamed of me.  And there’s nothing you can say to fix that, there are no words to pretty it up.

Now, does that mean I expect you to shout it from the rooftops?  No, I don’t shout it from the rooftops.  The vanilla folks don’t need to know.  Not long ago, Sounder and I went out for drinks, and no one in the bar knew that he’s my sissy.  Kazander and I go out, or interact with his family, all the time, and no one ever knows.  Steel and I spent three full days together, and transitioned easily from the private dynamic to the public dynamic as needed, and no one knew I own him.

None of them are any less mine, or any less submissive when we’re out among the muggles.  But no one knows it.  Sure, Steel still wears his collar 24/7 when he’s with me, and Kazander couldn’t take his off if he wanted to (even I can’t take it off without breaking the ring that locks it together).  But that’s the only clue, and no one notices.  We’re just a regular couple.

I still have expectations of them, of course.  They don’t stop being submissive to me when other people are around.  But there is no shouting from rooftops.

Even among kinky people, I don’t really broadcast it.  If I’m asked, I’ll tell people I’m a Domme, and if it comes up organically in conversation, then alright cool.  But I don’t announce, “I’m a Dominant, and look at this guy with me!  He’s submissive!”

There’s just no reason for it.

So no, you don’t have to broadcast it.  But you can’t be ashamed of it, either.  If you’re a submissive man, and you’re looking for a Domme, then grow a fucking pair of balls and go to a munch.  Stop hiding behind your computer screen.

The first local group I joined here in town was 90% male Doms and female submissives.  Including me, there were 6 Dommes (although one was a lesbian, and not interested in submissive men, so for purposes of this conversation, she doesn’t count).

Would you like to know how many submissive men there were on a regular basis?

Including Kazander, there was one.

One.  And that one was Kazander, who was so freaked out, he damn near had a panic attack the first night he went, and he saw one of his coworkers there.

He, like many submissive men, was terrified of what could happen if it got out.  But do you want to know what happened with his coworker?

Nothing.

They nodded to each other at the bar, and occasionally engaged in small talk if they were both waiting for drinks at the same time, but that was it.  His coworker (a Dom) never outed him, or even mentioned it at work.  And Kazander realized that there really isn’t anything to be afraid of, and never had a problem going with me after that.

Submissive men are like unicorns in that group.  And when they show up, they’re popular as fuck.  Even with Kazander being collared to me, he never wanted for female attention (hell, two of the Dommes have played with him).

How sad is it that a Dominant woman, highly respected in her community, does not have a submissive to serve her, because he doesn’t want to be seen in public as a submissive?

It’s goddamn infuriating.  And I cannot speak for all Dommes, but no, I will never settle for a relationship like that.  Hell yeah, I said it.  And I’ll say it more directly.

If you’re ashamed of “coming out” as a submissive at a kink event, or a place like a munch or play party, then you’re not even remotely good enough for me.  If you’re ashamed of being seen in public with me, or introducing me to friends/family/whatthefuckever, for fear that someone will find out, then you’re not even remotely good enough for me.

I’m not a kinky booty call that you keep carefully hidden and separated from every other aspect of your life.  I’m better than that, I deserve better than that, and I won’t tolerate anything less.  If you can’t be proud to have me in your life, then it’ll take me literally two days to replace you with someone who is proud.

Every Dominant woman deserves that much respect.  But that’s what you’re saying to us by hiding behind your computer screen and trying to hide us away.

You’re telling us you’re ashamed of us by being ashamed of yourself, and you’re completely objectifying us by those shitty little copy-and-paste messages you send to every red name on the list, thinking that we’re not intelligent enough to realize what you’re doing.

You may be frustrated that you can’t find a Domme, that you can’t find a woman to take you seriously, but to us, you’re just another horny coward who can’t handle us.

When you can see a Domme as a person, show her the respect she deserves, and can be proud of the place she has in your life, you’ll find a Domme to serve.

Or you can continue half-assing your messages, hiding in your little hole, and wondering why the women you objectify won’t give you the time of day.  Let me know how that works out for you.