Superiority

So I was having a conversation with a gentleman who subscribes to the ideology of female supremacy.  It’s a view I don’t share.

But we were discussing it, what he likes about it, and what I dislike about it.  And things were going well.

Until he said, “It just means so much more to serve my wife, because she’s superior to me in every way.  I don’t think it would mean as much if she wasn’t.  Like if you’re not physically bigger and stronger, and smarter than your subs, how can you really exert control over them?”

Um… what?

I mean, don’t get me wrong.  The guy is happily married to a woman he loves.  It works for the two of them, it’s what they want, and I’m sure as hell in no place to tell someone that their lifestyle choices aren’t valid.

But, um… what?

Okay, I mean, I have a very healthy love of myself.  I know what I’m good at, what my strengths are, and in what areas few people on the planet stand on equal footing with me.

I also know that there are things I’m not good at, things I struggle with, and weaknesses I have.  As much as I love myself (and I love myself a lot), the kind of arrogance and conceitedness required to not acknowledge that there are areas where my subs are better than I am is completely unthinkable for a normal, sane human being.

A perfect example of that was just the other day, talking to Sounder.  We got on the subject of how often tact, finesse, and diplomacy are required in his job.  And he joked that I, given my habit of being very blunt, probably wouldn’t excel in that position.

And he’s completely, 100% right.  I’d lose all patience about 4 minutes in and just start telling people off.  The level of diplomacy his job requires isn’t something that comes easily to me.  I just don’t care enough to be diplomatic.  If there’s a problem, I care more about solving it quickly and efficiently than sparing someone’s feelings.

He, on the other hand, has figured out that balance between quick-and-efficient and sparing-someone’s-feelings.

Hell yeah, I can acknowledge that there are things he’s better than me at.  Which is why, when I found myself in a situation where I had to play mediator between my mother and uncle, Sounder was the one I asked for help, because I knew he could see potential issues I couldn’t, and I wasn’t about to take any risks with tempers running that hot.

I joke that he’ll be my diplomat when I’m appointed Queen of the Universe.  And I can just see how that would go.  Like, I’d find out that some leader did something stupid, and I’d immediately want to chew the guy a new asshole or two, and I’d be like, “I want to talk to him, now.”

And Sounder would have to hold up a hand and say, “Okay, wait, I need to find out what actually happened first.”

“Cool, but I still want to talk to him, now.”

“It would be a really good idea to not yell at him right this minute.”

“I know.  I’m going to yell at him in like, 3 minutes.”

“Holding off on yelling at him for now will benefit you more in the long run.”

“Ugh, fine.  But I want to know the second I can yell at him.”

He’s got a patience with people that I just don’t.

There are things Kazander is better than me at.  He’s a fucking genius when it comes to numbers and money management.  He can take control of the finances of someone who files for bankruptcy and completely turn it around in such a short amount of time.  I’m serious, I’ve literally never met anyone as good with numbers as he is.  It’s wild.  So obviously, he’s the one who handles our money and our budget.

He’s tried to talk to me about the stock market, and investing, and what I should do with the life insurance money if he died.

My solution: Just don’t fucking die.  Problem solved.  See?  There’s that quick-and-efficient thing again.

Yeah, if I sat down and really researched the shit out of it, I could probably get on at least a comparable level to him, but I’ll never have the comfort with it that he does, or the speed he does, or just the natural ability he does.  I’d have to constantly have to work at it, while it comes easily to him.

The awesome thing is that it looks like the spawn inherited that ability from him.  I mean, it’s still too early to tell, but math is definitely her strongest subject.

I can even admit when one of my subs knows more than I do in the fields I pride myself in.

Not many people know more about the English language than I do.  But Steel does.  And on the very rare occasion where I’ve had a question or needed help with something, he’s the one I’ve gone to.

And there’s nothing wrong with that.  There’s nothing wrong with those who serve me being better at something than me or knowing more about something than me.  I’d get bored if they didn’t.

And as far as physical size and strength, I mean, I’m 5’9″, and I’m no delicate flower.  And yeah, there’s something kind of hot about playing with a guy shorter than me, or smaller than me, or not as physically strong as I am.  I’ve always enjoyed it.

Most men aren’t shorter than me or smaller than me, though.  Kazander’s taller than I am.  Sounder’s about my height, maybe a little bit taller, and he’s strong enough to break metal fucking chain, m’kay.  Literally without even trying.  He’s a hell of a lot stronger than not just me, but pretty much everyone.  If he wanted a Domme who could physically overpower him, basically his only option would be a professional bodybuilder.

And I don’t know, I just have this idea of what it means to lead people in general.  Like, if the only people you could get to follow you were weaker/smaller/less intelligent/more inexperienced than you, can you really call yourself an effective leader?

Or does it mean more when even the strongest, the smartest, the best and brightest, the most elite, choose to follow you?  Not because they are inferior or because they have no choice, but because they want to follow you?  Because something about you inspires and motivates them, and earns their respect?

I kind of feel like D/s relationships are the same way.  I mean, of course, again, people want what they want, and as long as they’re happy, who am I to judge?  But a blanket statement about D/s not meaning as much unless the sub is inferior to the Dominant in every way?  That just seems to be literally the opposite of what it should be.

I think D/s means more if the sub is equal to the Dominant, or superior in some aspects.

Because at that point, he’s not choosing to submit to her because he feels like he has to.  He’s not submitting because he sees himself as weak.  He knows he’s strong, he knows he’s intelligent, he knows he’s capable and competent and can handle anything life throws at him.

He’s choosing to submit to her because there’s something about her that draws him in.  Something about her, specifically, that has earned his respect.  His trust.  Not just because she is a woman.  Because she, as an individual, is worthy of his submission.  Because she, as a person, has inspired him to want to follow her.

I don’t ever want someone to submit to me because I’m a woman.  I don’t ever want someone to submit to me because they see themselves as inferior to me, and could never stand on equal footing with me.  I want someone to submit to me because I, as an individual person, have earned it.

Because the submission of a strong man is a very precious gift.  He doesn’t need to give it to anyone.  He can handle life on his own.

And he’s not going to give that gift to just anybody.  He’s not going to let just anyone control him.  He’s not going to follow anyone just because.

It has to be earned.  And it means so much more to me, because they’ve made the conscious decision to give me that gift.  Not because I’m a woman.  Not because I’m superior or inferior.

Because I’m me.

The gentleman’s guide to going down on a woman

So it’s occurred to me that some men simply don’t know how to do this properly.  And I get it.  It’s intimidating, there’s a lot going on down there, where your own setup is pretty basic.

This is often exacerbated by the fact that women don’t often tell men what they like.

But here’s why:  Because most of you are all so wrapped up in your precious little egos, that the slightest constructive criticism is interpreted as an attack on your very manhood.  It’s ridiculous.  Laughable.

I’m serious, we literally make fun of you for that.

But it’s annoying, too.  Because now we have to find some other way to tell you what we like, and how to pleasure us better.  Most of the time, we just train you to respond to different moans.

It’s stupid.  It really is.  But we’d rather do that, because you suddenly crying in the corner, or shouting about how ultra macho manly you are, and you’re God’s gift to women, just isn’t sexy, and we wanna cum, goddammit.

So learn to take suggestion.

And then follow the fucking suggestions.

Kazander, who is actually very talented in this department, has phases where he’s just awful at the following suggestion thing.  I’ll tell him to move higher or lower, and he won’t move.  I’ll reach down and literally move his head where I want him, and as soon as I let go, he’ll go back to his original spot.

I have literally held him in place by grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

And that’s not fun.  It’s distracting, it’s annoying, and it makes it take even longer for me to cum.

He’s far from the only guy to do this, too.  He just has phases now and then.  I’ve been with guys where it was a constant battle.

That’s not sexy, okay.  It’s frustrating.  And if I’m frustrated, chances are I won’t be all that interested in giving you anything you may want.

Follow directions.  If we tell you to move a certain direction, do it.  If we move you to a certain place, fucking stay there.

Also, and I’ve actually only had one guy who didn’t do this, all the rest of you are just terrible at it, but when you do something we like, don’t fucking change it up right as we’re about to cum.

Jesus fucking Christ, that’s the most annoying thing ever.  I finally asked a guy why he did it, and he said it was kind of like a big finishing move.  He was trying to make the build up more intense.

Ugh.  No.

Unless we specifically tell you to go faster or harder, don’t do it.  Obviously, what you’re doing is working.  We’re getting close.  We’re about to cum.  More often than not, when you try to do your “big finish,” it either ruins our orgasm (yes, women can have ruined orgasms, too) or completely derails it and now you have to start over.

When what you’re doing is working, don’t change it.

Also, it’s a tongue, not a fucking shovel.  Too many times, guys get way too rough, way too fast.  My clit is attached, m’kay.  Don’t try to dig it up out of my body.

It’s a hell of a lot more sensitive than you think, a hell of a lot more sensitive than anything on your body.  So be gentle with it.  If she tells you she wants you to go harder or faster, then do it.  Otherwise, start out slow and gentle.

The mindset seems to be that the faster and harder you go, that faster she’ll cum.  Yeah, it doesn’t work that way, literally at all.

It only just doesn’t even feel good.  And it’s distracting.

Be patient, take your time, and she’ll cum a lot faster than if you try to rush it or get super aggressive with it.

And try to keep the noises to a minimum.  Unless she wants you to, don’t do any moaning, and for God’s sake, don’t make any slurping or lip-smacking noises.  If you sound like a cow, that’s not sexy.  It’s distracting.

You want her focused on how good everything feels, not all the other shit.

I’ve also seen a lot of guys who just don’t know how to use their tongue at all.  Like, it’s been so bad, I just made a couple of guys stop, because it was a waste of time.

The alphabet thing is stupid and cheesy, but it works for someone who is unsure or just learning how.  It’s a good starting point.  Just don’t use the very tip of your tongue.  Often, that’s just too much pressure, and goes back to the too-hard-too-fast-doesn’t-feel-good thing.

Once she cums, don’t just suddenly stop.  Women’s orgasms last longer than men’s, and if you stop right as she starts cumming, it just falls off and basically feels like a ruined orgasm.  Super disappointing.

Keep going through the orgasm.  Go with the previous rule.  Just keep doing exactly what you were doing to make her cum.  Wait until the orgasm is over to stop.

And then, when she’s had a few minutes to relax, ask her if there’s anything she wishes you had done differently.  She should be more willing to tell you now, after she came.  Because hell, she came already.  It doesn’t really matter if you throw a fit because she gave you constructive criticism.  She already got what she wanted.

But she’ll also be in a very mellow, relaxed, good mood, so she’ll likely be very gentle and tactful in how she says things.  Just take her suggestions to heart, and next time, you’ll have a better idea of what to do.

Like with all things, practice, practice, practice.

To reproduce or not to reproduce

Jen,

Long time reader, first time writer.  I really love your blog and how matter of fact you are with everything, it’s so refreshingly honest.

I’m 28, my husband is 26, and we’ve been married for about three years and both of our parents have been pressuring us to have kids.  Aside from the fact that we’re two gay men and that process is a bit more involved than with a straight couple, there are a number of things that make us hesitate to go through with it.  Most notably, and maybe most selfishly, we like our life.  We like having time to ourselves.  We like being able to do things on our own schedule.  Most of our friends have kids and it’s all “I need to check with my sitter” and “I need to get back and relieve the sitter” and “I have a soccer game that day.”

And that’s not to mention the kink aspect.  I’m mostly submissive to my husband and one of the things I love is the spontenaity.  I could literally be sitting on the bed folding laundry and he’ll walk in, grab me by my hair, and just start fucking my face, just without a word.  Or I could be putting dishes away and he’ll walk in, bend me over the counter, and just start fucking me.  It’s one of my favorite things about our sex life.

You’ve talked about having a kid and how it has impacted your kink life.  I’m really just looking for an honest, matter of fact answer because everywhere I look all I see is stuff about how kids are the most amazing thing ever and “Oh I wasn’t complete until I had kids” and “You haven’t lived until you’ve had kids” and honestly, it’s all just overwhelming.

I need someone who can be honest with me, who can tell me the good and bad, and can tell me if it’s worth it.  I need someone who can tell me what life as a kinky parent is like without all the ooh-ing and ahh-ing that everyone does.

Please, anything would help.  And thank you so much.

Will

Will, dear, I actually take quite a bit of pride in saying this: You’ve come to exactly the right place.

And before I get into all this, I do want to do the obligatory I-love-my-kid thing.  In my specific case, yes, I think it’s worth it.  It comes with some pretty major fucking caveats, and some massive fucking disadvantages, but at the end of the day, I’m glad my kid is here, and if I could go back 7 years and do it again, knowing all the disadvantages and bullshit that goes along with parenthood, I’d still do it exactly the same way.

But what’s right for me may not be right for you.  And the only one who can make that decision is you.

Yes, having a kid will have a massive impact on your life, including (and perhaps especially) your kink life.  That spontaneity will all but disappear.

I mean, it won’t disappear completely.  You’ll learn, and your husband will learn, to be more opportunistic.  The kid is taking a nap.  Cool, come ride my cock.  Quickies in the bedroom while the kid is watching Barney, a quick blowjob in the shower in the morning before waking the kid up, a hurried, frenzied fucking before work while you’re making the coffee, I mean, there are ways around it.

But nothing really prepares you for that kind of loss of freedom.  Even when I was pregnant, I could still go where I wanted, when I wanted, and do what I wanted.  I could get up and go to the grocery store.  I could go out to dinner.  I could go to munches and play parties and doctor appointments and whateverthefuck I wanted.  I mean, I had limitations placed on me because of the complications with my pregnancy, but you get the general gist of it.

I had no damn idea.  And that was the first big revelation I had about my new reality as a parent.

Once she was born, even things like running out to get a quick lunch at a drive thru became an event.  It took planning.  Forethought.  And going out to dinner?  Yeah, that wasn’t something we could decide to do on a whim.  At 5:30pm, I couldn’t turn to my husband and say, “I don’t feel like cooking.  Let’s go out instead.”  We had to make arrangements.  Plans.  All the shit your friends say about sitters?  I’ve said those exact words so many times, it’s comical.

And let me just tell you right now: babies fucking suck.  I mean, you’ll either be adopting or using a surrogate, so there are some things (like breast-feeding vs formula, and then breast-feeding in public) you won’t have to worry about, but that doesn’t mean you get a free pass.  Midnight feedings, lack of sleep, exhaustion, frustration, resentment of the baby and/or each other, I mean, it’s fucking brutal.

Neither of you will be feeling very horny those first few months.  Newborns are the worst kind of baby.  They suck the hardest.  Every spare moment you get, all you’ll want to do is sleep.  Luckily, that part only lasts a few months, and then things start getting easier.

I love my kid, okay, and I loved her when she was a baby.  But I can also be completely honest.  There’s not a whole hell of a lot about the first six months of her life that I can look back on as a positive memory.  I mean, her first smile was awesome, her first laugh was amazing, watching her personality develop was fantastic, and really helped me bond with her.

That’s one thing you might actually be spared from, I’m not entirely sure.  Unfortunately, I don’t know many gay men who have kids, so I don’t know.  But for me, and many mothers, there’s this assumption and expectation that you’re supposed to be completely, 100% in love with your kid from the moment it leaves your body.  I don’t know if you’ll experience that expectation, but I imagine you’ll get at least a portion of it.  If you go through a surrogate, you’ll likely be expected to love it just as much as a biological mother would, from the moment it’s born, and if you go through adoption, you’ll likely be expected to love it just as much as a biological parent would, from the moment you sign the papers.

Either way, I’m going to do you a favor right now, and tell you that it’s completely bullshit.  I mean, I know even less about adoption than I do about surrogacy, so I’m just going to write the rest of this assuming that you decide to go through a surrogate.  I’m also going to write it from the perspective of a biological mother, since that’s the only perspective I can speak on with any degree of authority.  Obviously there will be things that are different with adoption, and with you being fathers, but I imagine the gist is about the same.

But there’s this expectation that you’re supposed to be completely in love with the kid from the jump.  And for some people, I guess that’s what happens.

It sure as hell didn’t happen for me.

I mean, I wasn’t completely indifferent to her, it wasn’t like that.  I’d been waiting for her for 9 months.  I’d been feeling her growing and moving around (and kicking the shit out of me, consider yourself lucky you don’t have to deal with that).

The point is, some people fall in love with their kids right away, and some don’t.  I didn’t.  Hell, I didn’t know her.

And then of course there was the guilt, because I didn’t fall in love with her instantly, that I must be a terrible mother, and then all the baggage with my own mother made its way to the forefront of my hormone-crazed mind, and what was I thinking, and what have I done, and how badly am I going to fuck up this poor kid?

Now I know it’s all bullshit.  You may not feel anything for the kid right away, and that’s fine.  I personally was reassured when the IV they had in her leg (she had to stay in the NICU for a week) started causing her pain.  I saw it, I recognized the IV burn, and I told the nurses.  Who promptly ignored me.

And then the mama bear instincts kicked in, and I went on a rampage until her next scheduled dose of antibiotics, where they realized, “Hey, it’s an IV burn,” and moved the IV.

She still has a scar from it, by the way.  Almost 6 years later.

So that was reassuring for me, because even though I didn’t really love her the way people say a mother is supposed to love her newborn, she was still mine, and I would do whatever it took to protect her.

So that’s something I tell new mothers, and it’s something I’ll tell you, too.  You may not be completely smitten with your kid right away, and that’s fine.  You don’t have to be.  You don’t know anything about the kid.  It’s a complete stranger.  It’s fine.  Because if something happens, if the kid needs you to protect it, those instincts will kick in and you’ll do what it takes without a second thought.  It’ll just come naturally.  Whether you’re a mother or father, whether the kid is biologically yours or not.

Because even though you didn’t carry it, and even if you don’t share a biological connection, you know that’s your kid, and if it needs you, it’ll flip the same switch in your brain that it flipped in mine.

We carry so much guilt as parents, because we put having kids up on this pedestal, and it’s all just stupid.  I’m glad I had my kid, I think she’s worth all the bullshit that comes with reproducing, but I can admit that there are parts of parenthood that just suck.

But while I didn’t feel that connection to her immediately, and I resented her more often than not, I did enjoy watching her learn, watching her personality develop, and that’s where we really started bonding.  That was really special, and for me, that’s the one thing that made all the other hell worthwhile.

Once they leave the baby stage, it’s easier.  And now, she’s almost 6, and she can do things independently, she does chores, she can hold conversations and she’s actually really into politics, interestingly enough.  I mean, it’s all got to be watered down, she’s fucking five, so there’s a lot that goes over her head.  But she does not like Trump.  Which is an opinion she formed on her own, independent of my thoughts or Kazander’s thoughts of the man.  I mean, she knew he was the president, and she’d seen a couple of interviews and speeches from Obama (most notably his Thanksgiving speeches, with all the dad jokes), but that was about all she knew.

It started when we were in NC, in the hospital room with my mom, who was watching a press interview with Trump.  I didn’t think she was paying attention, I was too appalled and disgusted to notice that she was actually watching, until she said, “Mommy, he’s mean.”

I said, “Yes, baby, he sure is.”

“I don’t like him,” she declared.  “You’re not supposed to be mean to people.  Especially if you’re the president.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

“I miss the old president.  He was nice.”

“I miss him too, baby.”

So she, quite proud of her new opinion of the president, started telling everyone she met.  Which was fucking adorable, okay.

The problem is that a small town in North Carolina is probably not the best place to voice that particular opinion.  Reactions ranged from awkward silence to dismissal to feigned cheerfulness.  And she picked up on that, and started to doubt herself, so a few days later, she said, “Well, I like him a little bit.”

“What?  Why?”

“Well, he’s the president.  You’re supposed to like the president a little bit.”

“No the fuck you’re not,” I corrected.  “You’re supposed to respect him a little bit.  There’s a big difference.  You don’t have to like him at all.”

“You don’t?”

“Not even a little bit.  I don’t like him, either.  And neither does Daddy.  You absolutely do not have to like him, and you don’t have to support him or stick up for him.  He’s a cruel man, and I will never like a cruel man, even if I have to respect him, or even if other people like him, or even if I feel like I’m supposed to like him.  If you want to like him, that’s your choice.  But there has to be something more to like about him than him just being the president.”

That made her feel better.

So I mean, it’s fun now.  She can have these kinds of conversations, she can develop opinions of her own.  She says she wants Michelle Obama to be the next president, and she was quite irritated when she found out that she won’t be allowed to vote in 2020.

Seeing the world through the eyes of a little kid is pretty fucking awesome, too.  You kind of realize how jaded and cynical you are, and it’s so refreshing to sort of let go of that for a little while, and look at the world completely differently.

But there is one thing I’m noticing here, in reading your email.  And I mean, forgive me if I’m wrong, but it sounds like you don’t even really want to have kids.

So if that’s the case, I’ll do you a favor now, and tell you this:

You do not have to have kids.  At all.  Ever.  Like, literally ever.

I know exactly that attitude you’re talking about, and I despise it.  Every time someone said that bullshit to me, about how I’m “not complete” until I’m a mother, I wanted to hit them in the face with a chair.

Uh, no.  I was not an incomplete human being before my spawn was born, m’kay.  I am more than just a baby-making machine.  That is just as true for you and your husband, even though neither of you will actually be carrying the baby.  You are two whole, complete, autonomous people.  You do not have to reproduce in order to be human.  You are more than a series of chemicals and DNA that must be passed down to another generation.

That being said, I’m my father’s oldest child, and he came from a very old-fashioned Mexican family.  Legacy was and is a big deal.  He could trace his roots back a dozen generations.  He instilled in me the spirit of our family, and that as his eldest child, it’s my job to carry that on.  I mean, shit went a little sideways, so that fell off a bit, but the attitude is still there.

The point is, having been brought up like that, I mean, family was everything, legacy was everything.  So yeah, I felt obligated to carry that on in a way my little sister and my cousins never really understood.

Because I’m the oldest child of my grandparents’ oldest child.  In an old-school Mexican family.  Yeah dude, I was told basically from birth that it was my job to carry on the family line, and have lots of babies.  I have male cousins to carry on the name, but it was my job to carry the legacy.

So that was great.

But there’s this pressure to reproduce, this idea that reproducing is the end-all, be-all of existence, and that’s all just utter bullshit.

“Oh, you haven’t lived until you’ve had a child.”

“Your life isn’t complete until you’ve had a child.”

“I didn’t know what love was until I had my child.  You have no idea what real love feels like until you have a child.  Your life is just empty.”

Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up.

I mean, honestly, how much does your life has to suck to think that you were incomplete before you had a kid?

I kinda liked my life before the kid was born.

Sure I like who I am as a mom, I’m damn good at being a mom, it’s a role I take a great deal of pride in, but I also liked who I was before my kid was born.

And some of the bullshit was ridiculous.  I remember, early in my pregnancy, before I even started showing, I wore a T-shirt that had Cartman on it, from South Park.  My mom saw it and said, “You know you’re not going to be able to wear that once the baby is born.”

Um, what?

“Why the hell not?”

“Well, that show isn’t really appropriate for kids.  And you won’t be able to curse, either.  You have to change a lot when you have kids.”

Yeah, fuck everyfuckingthing about that.

I’m not going to stop being who I am just because I made a person, m’kay.  I don’t lose who I am, I don’t become reduced to nothing but my spawn’s mother.  I still curse, I still watch South Park, I still drink, I still party and have fun, I still am who I am.

And my kid understands that some words I say are “grown up words,” and she will be able to say them when she’s a grown up.

Which works.  She just doesn’t curse.  Even though I curse all the time around her, and even when I’m talking to her.  I talk to her the same way I talk to anyone else.  I don’t pretend to be something I’m not around her, and I’m not going to change who I am as a person because she exists.

I haven’t changed who I am, I just added “Mom” to it.

And I’m still not a kid person.  I still hate other people’s kids.  I love my kid to death, I think she’s fucking awesome, and I get compliments on her behavior all the time, because I believe in discipline, goddammit, and I’m not going to raise an obnoxious heathen who cannot sit quietly in a waiting room, or who annoys the hell out of people on an airplane, or who screams and throws tantrums in a grocery store, or who whines and throws shit in restaurants.

So I love my kid, but I am not and will never be a “kid person.”

You don’t have to change who you are when you have a kid, because there is nothing “missing” without them.  I mean, if you want kids, and you honestly do feel like something is missing without them, then cool.  But not everyone feels that way.  I didn’t feel that way.

There’s nothing wrong with not having kids, if you don’t want to have kids.  You sound like you’re happy with your life, like you enjoy the life you and your husband share.  If you don’t want to change it, then don’t.

You like having free time and disposable income?  Feel like giving it up for the next 18 years?

Right now, you can literally be driving in the car with your husband, and you may drive past a new restaurant that just opened up.  And you can turn to your husband and say, “Hey, that place looks nice.  We should check it out.  We can go literally any time we want to.”

Giving all that shit up is not something you should do on a whim, or because your families tell you that you should, or because you feel like that’s what people are supposed to do when they’ve been married for a while.

If your families are pressuring you to have kids, tell them to fuck off.  I got it when my kid was about 2, and everyfuckingbody and their damn dog suddenly were all like, “Well, it’s time for a sibling!  You’re going to give her a little brother or sister, right?  Isn’t it time to get started on that?”

“Uh, no.”

“What?  She needs a sibling!”

“She really doesn’t, actually.”

“Kids are always happier with siblings.”

“They are?  Well shit, I never got that memo.”

“They’ve done studies.  You need to give her a little sibling.  It’s better for her developmentally.  Besides, you’re not really a parent until you have more than one.”

“Oh wow, I’m not?  I never knew that.  Well fuck, and I’ve spent the last two years raising this thing for no reason, then.”

Holy fucking shit, dude.  And no, none of that is even remotely an exaggeration.  I literally did have people try to guilt me into reproducing again, and I literally had people tell me I’m not a real parent because I only have one.

Just ignore them, or tell them to fuck off.  They’ll shut up eventually.  After about a year of those kinds of conversations, I started getting less and less tactful.  They stopped after awhile.  I haven’t heard any of that bullshit for… shit, probably 2 years, now?  Something like that.

Don’t let people pressure you into having a kid if you don’t want one.  You don’t have to have kids.

I mean, I can’t tell you whether you should or shouldn’t.  That’s not a decision anyone can make except you and your husband.  And for me, yeah, it worked out, and I love it, and I think my kid is one of the coolest people on the planet, and she’s more than worth all the disadvantages and all the limits it places on my time and my kink life.

For me, yeah it’s worth it.

Is it worth it for you and your husband?  That’s not something I can answer.

From the other side

This is a guest post written by a trans man who wishes to remain anonymous.  For purposes of discussion, he goes by Omega.

I’ll keep the history short.  We all have different stories, but at the heart of them, they’re all the same.  Our entire lives, we knew something wasn’t right.  We knew something was off.

But I’d learned to live with the Off.  I’d accepted it as part of me.  The bitterness I felt at having the wrong body was the thing I assumed all women felt.  Some hate their thighs, some hate their breasts, some hate their hips or their stomach or their calves or their shoulders.

I hated….

Well, I didn’t really hate it.  Not once I became an adult, anyway.

The woman I was outside was the Off, but she had her uses.  I’d learned how to work with her, how to use her to get what I needed.

And she’s a tough bitch.  She knew how to protect me when I needed it.  She covered me up, she built walls around me to keep out those who would hurt me.

She’s stronger than anyone else I’ve ever met.  And she’s tireless.  A warrior.

Because she’d lived in this world as a woman, and I never really understood what that meant until I set her aside and entered the world as a man.

The things she’s endured, the things she’s dealt with…

There’s honestly no way to comprehend it without living it.

I respect her.  I admire her.  I resent her for existing.  I resent the fact that I needed her for so long.  I resent the fact that I still do.

Because it wasn’t until I was able to pass as a man that I realized just how strong she was.  How strong she was forced to be.

I took advantage of her; I used her.

Because I never knew what it meant to be her.

The truth, the pure and objective truth, is that sexism is alive, and male privilege is depressingly real.

She noticed it before I did.

Because it was subtle at first.  There was so much else going on, I didn’t notice it.  I was too worried about things like going to the public restroom.  But she noticed it.

It devastated me again to realize it.

People speak to me differently than they did to her.  They look at me differently.  They react to me differently.  Cashiers, waiters, car mechanics, the postman, employers, employees, the entire world sees me differently than they saw her.

The amount of respect strangers unthinkingly show me is different than the respect they showed her.  The level of competence people assume I have is different than the level they assume she had.  The way they accommodate me is different than the way they accommodated her.

It’s not everyone, and it’s not every situation, but it’s consistent enough to be a pattern, and the pattern holds true.

I realized how hard she is.  How hard she needed to be.

I realized just how much of the anxiety and dislike of myself wasn’t due to anxiety or depression, but from the way people saw me, the way they treated me.

It’s so unfair, what she had to go through to protect me, the way the entire world shrugged her off as having less worth.  The car mechanics who scoffed at her, the computer and technical repairmen who ignored her, the plumbers and electricians who walked into her home and blatantly disrespected her, the way doctors shrugged her off, the demeaning comments from any man who disagreed with her, the way everyone subconsciously belittled her.

I never even realized it until it suddenly wasn’t there anymore.  I look back on my childhood, on my adolescence, on my young adulthood, and realize that I had been a victim of sexism all my life.

Even she didn’t know the full extent of it.  Not until she saw the difference in the way I’m treated now.

For a long time, I hated her.  I hated her because she wasn’t me, because to me, she represented every lie I had to tell, every secret I had to keep, every part of myself I couldn’t acknowledge.  She was everything about myself I hated.  She was everything about myself that was off.

Now, I realize that she’s the strongest part of me.  Because she had to be.  She had to learn to stand tall when people scoffed at her, when people shrugged her off and dismissed her, when they belittled her, when they told her she was worth less than I am.

She learned how to stand up against those who felt entitled to her body, she learned how to let go and not let their touch haunt her the way it haunted me.  She learned how to protect us from those who saw us as nothing but an object to fuck.  From those who grabbed her on the street, those who sneered at her, who leered at her, who tried to break her.  She learned how to protect us from those who wanted to pull her down and destroy her, from those who wanted to make her less than human.

She learned how to be hard, how to be defiant, how to prove them wrong.  She was everything that was off about me, but she was my protector in a world that hated me not just because I was trans, but because my voice was high and my body was feminine.

And she’s far from the only one.  So many women go through worse than I did.  So many women hurt worse than I did.  I was lucky.  And I’m lucky in that I don’t have to deal with it anymore.

I never truly appreciated the constant battles she had to fight until I didn’t have to fight them anymore.  I never appreciated the strength it took to be her until I saw how much easier it is to be me in our society.

I’ve only been reliably passing as male for a year or so.  I’m still learning who I am outside of her.  And she’s still there to jump to my defense when I need it, because she grew up in a harder world than I live in.

I will always admire the strength it takes to be her, to be every woman.  Even they don’t realize how hard it is to be them, and that makes me angry.

These women have fought these battles every day.

Not against everyone, but against enough.

At least once a day, they are somehow, someway told that they are worth less than men.  But they keep going.  They keep fighting.  They learn how to get past it.

They don’t realize their own strength.  Just as she didn’t realize her own strength.  She didn’t realize what it took to live through a normal life as a woman until she saw how much easier it is to live a normal life as a man.

She resents that.  And so do I.  All the insecurity, all the doubt, all the pain of feeling not good enough, she thought there was something wrong with her.

But no, she was perfect.  She wasn’t me, but she was perfect.  It was society that let her down.  Not any fault or shortcoming of her own.

No man will ever understand the strength it takes to be a woman in a world where women are worth less.  No man will understand the strength it takes to be a woman in a world where no one wants to acknowledge the battles they still fight.

Where people pretend it doesn’t exist.  Where they shrug off a woman, where they brush off her battles.

Women can vote and have bank accounts.  What else could they possibly want?  Why can’t they stop whining?

It repulses me.  It makes me want to turn from the world.

But she’s not heartless.  Because, while I wanted to hate every man for what she went through, while I wanted to sneer at the little trials they thought were just so hard, she was the one who stopped me.

She reminded me that pain is not exclusive to women.  She reminded me of the good men who do fight for women.

She reminded me of the women in my life that I admire.  Women like Domina Jen, who are unbelievably strong, who will never understand the true extent of their own strength, who don’t need anyone to hold them up, but who graciously love and respect the good men in their lives.

But even that a battle in and of itself.

Domina Jen made a mistake once.  She let me see the contents of her email inbox.  And that brought on a whole new wave of bitterness.

Because I will never again have to deal with what she deals with.  The things she considers normal, the threats and the insults that she and everyone around her dismiss, the nonchalance people who love her feel at the way she’s treated, even her own simple, graceful shrug, saying, “That’s just the way it is.”

It infuriated me.  Because it’s not fair.  And who is going to stand up for her?  Who is going to fight for her?  Who is going to let her lean on them the way I could lean on her?

Who could she lean on when the weight of holding me up got to be too much?

No one.

And the internet is only one small facet, one small glimpse of what it’s like to walk through life like this.

A constant and cruel punishment for the unforgivable crime of having a high voice and feminine body.

No man fully understands what paying for that crime feels like, and how deeply it hurts to be met with the dismissive, apathetic attitude so many men exhibit.

Because they don’t want to see it.  They are uncomfortable with being confronted by it.  They are uncomfortable realizing how much harder things like going to the bank or getting your oil changed or running a business are for women.

There’s no rest for these women.  I escaped it, and seeing it from the outside made me realize how bad it really is.  But for the rest, there’s no escape.

I wanted to be angry forever.  I wanted to lose myself in my anger.  And even Domina Jen couldn’t snap me out of it.

But she could.

She was the one who reminded me what it feels like to love a good man.  She was the one to remind me what it feels like to have a good man love me.

She kept me from getting cold.  She kept me from letting the bitterness consume me.

The same way she kept me from letting the bitterness consume me when she had to be my mask.

I know that one day, I won’t need her anymore.  I’ll be able to put her in a little box, close it, and lock it forever.  I’ll be able to leave her behind and move ahead as me.

But that box will always be close to my heart.  Because she saved me, every moment of every day, and she will continue to save me right up until the moment I don’t need her anymore.

It’s isolating, seeing the world from both sides, and it’s why I have gravitated to other trans people.  Because I’m not the only one who sees it.  All trans men see this.

Trans women see the reverse, and my heart hurts for them.  Because they have no way of understanding this world they’re coming in to until they walk into it.

Because transitioning is awful enough, it is anxiety-inducing and depressing enough, without having to come to terms with this new reality.  Having to understand that being true to who they are means that the world will forever see them as less than their mask.

It makes me cynical, but she won’t let me lose all hope.  She stubbornly hangs on, reminding me that giving up never made anything better.

One day, it will be better.  I have faith in good people.  I have faith that good people won’t give up.

I have faith because I know that she isn’t the only fighter around.

Obedience revisited

So I’ve had a few conversations over the last few weeks on the concept of obedience.  And with my last story, more than one person was surprised at the level of obedience in the sub.

A fellow Domme even scoffed at the idea of a sub being that obedient when it’s something he doesn’t want to do.

… Um, what?

There are subs who don’t obey their Owners?  There are Dominants who don’t expect their subs to obey them?

Is this actually a thing?

Maybe I’m just weird, but obedience is kind of a big deal with me.  Like, that’s one of the biggest requirements I have.

I expect to be obeyed.  If I don’t have complete confidence in being obeyed, I’m not interested.

Sounder expressed similar sentiments when I told him about it.

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One of the many reasons I adore him.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is what I expect from my subs.  And what I think all subs who are not at this point should aspire to.

Does that mean you can’t have limits?  Of course not.  Sounder has limits.  Star has limits.  And both of their limits are absolutely respected, without question.

Does it mean you have to obey a command that is dangerous or illegal or something that you can’t or shouldn’t obey for whatever reason?  Of course not.

There’s a difference between obedience and mindless obedience.  I don’t want mindless obedience, or mindless anything.

My subs have incredible minds and wonderful personalities.  I don’t want to take that away from them.  They’re strong people, I wouldn’t be able to take that away from them if I tried.

If there’s a reason why they can’t or shouldn’t obey me, they tell me.

But “I don’t wanna” is not a good enough reason, folks.

If there’s a reason they can’t or shouldn’t obey me, they need a better reason than “I don’t feel like it.”

For example, if I show up at Sounder’s house after work tomorrow with a man, and tell him to get on his knees so the man could use his mouth, it’s pretty safe to assume he’s not going to want to do it.

But he’s going to do it.

Now, if there’s a reason why he can’t do it, or he shouldn’t do it, that’s a different story.  Maybe he just had dental surgery.  Maybe he’s had migraines all day.  Maybe he’s got the flu.  Maybe his mom is on her way over to his house to have dinner right at that moment.  Maybe he has to be at a work dinner in 30 minutes, and he just came home to change.

I mean, there are a million legitimate reasons why he can’t or shouldn’t obey that command.  And of course he should tell me if there’s anything like that.

Another example was this past Monday, when I went to his house.  I’d told him I wanted us to go to the salon and get pedicures, because he’s eventually going to go dressed as a girl, and we’ll have a girls’ day at the spa.

But because I’m nice, I told him he can wear his boy costume the first time.  And I told him we were going to go on Monday when I got there, and then we’d go back to his house, he’d get out of his boy costume, and we’d do other fun things.

And he immediately tensed up about it.  After explaining his reasons, I asked him if it was a hard limit.  He said no, it wasn’t, but with everything else happening that night, the added stress of a situation he wasn’t comfortable with, coupled with the time it takes him to get dressed up and beautiful for me, would be an edgy, negative kind of stress that could impact the evening.

Which was a really good point.  There was going to be enough else to make him anxious and nervous, and I didn’t want him tense and anxious, so I dropped it, and told him we’ll do it another night.

Easy enough.

Now tact matters.  How you say it matters.  Had Sounder just flat-out told me no, I wouldn’t have been super pleased.  He didn’t tell me no, and he didn’t tell me some version of “I don’t feel like it” or “I don’t wanna.”

He explained, clearly and respectfully, what the consequences of obeying me would be.  I agree with him, that those were not awesome consequences, so I agreed that it wouldn’t happen.

And the way he handled it, and every situation like it, is exactly what I want.

If he hadn’t said anything, and just done what he was told, knowing it would stress him out and impacted the rest of the night, I would’ve wondered what went wrong, and how to fix it.  I probably would’ve told him that he needs to tell me when those kinds of situations come up in the future, so we can avoid it happening again.

If he had flat-out refused, if he had responded with, “No, I’m not doing that,” I would’ve been really, really annoyed.

I’ve been told I’m just slightly unpleasant when I’m annoyed.  Most people who know me try to avoid that.

So either of those options would not have been what I wanted.  Sounder did exactly what he was supposed to do.  He didn’t mindlessly obey me, and he didn’t disrespectfully tell me no.

And yes, I am 100% confident in his obedience.  I can relax, knowing that I’m not going to have to strong-arm him into doing what I want.  I can just enjoy his presence, I can enjoy tormenting him and hurting him and degrading him and all the things I love doing to him.

In his mind, there’s no option but to obey me.  If there’s not a legitimate reason why he can’t or shouldn’t, it’s just not an option.

And that mindset frees him up to just truly experience what I do to him.  He can enjoy the nice things I do to him, and he can endure the not-so-nice things I do to him.  It feels deeper, more real, because he doesn’t have that little voice in the back of his mind urging him to tell me no.

I enjoy fucking with his mind, I enjoy taking him on these crazy mental and emotional roller coasters, I enjoy playing with emotions like fear and dread and humiliation.

And he can let go and simply enjoy the ride.

Let me clarify

So based on comments, messages, and emails I’ve gotten, it appears that I wasn’t quite as clear in my Wake-Up Call post as I could’ve been.

So to clarify: No, I am not saying that a submissive man should have to come out to his vanilla friends, or his family, or in his professional life.

Who he is in the bedroom really isn’t anyone’s business, and if he doesn’t want them to know, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.

I was talking specifically about a submissive man being out at a kink event only.  Such as a munch, or a play party.  A place with other kinky people.  Not vanilla people.  Not people he knows.

And no, despite (extremely) popular opinion, going to a kink event as a submissive man will have no effect on a man’s vanilla life, either personally or professionally.  Kazander learned that, himself, when he saw one of his coworkers at a munch.  Literally zero effect on his professional life or on his career.

I mean, if someone were to see their parents or something at a munch or play party, that might be awkward, but you’d actually be surprised how often that sort of thing happens.

Because think about it:  If you’re at a munch, everyone at the munch is there for the same thing.  It’s the same reason I’m not worried if someone I know finds the blog.  Because they’d have to read a lot of the blog to figure out who I am, and at that point, they can’t judge me when they’re spending that much time reading a Femdom blog.

Someone at a munch cannot judge you for being at a munch.

And also, despite (extremely) popular opinion, you are not required to write “SUBMISSIVE MAN” on your forehead when you go to a munch, m’kay.

I mean, 99% of the people Kazander and I spoke to at munches knew what our dynamic was, but most of our conversations were just vanilla conversations about normal things.

For example, there’s a woman at the mixed group that I don’t talk to a lot, but only because we hang around in different smaller groups.  I love her to death, she’s adorable, and I love talking to her.

Four years into us going to the munches regularly (and to the local dungeon, when it was open), she hugged me as we walked in.  Kazander went to the bar to get me a drink, and when he left, she said, “So what do you call him?  Your Sir?  Your Daddy?”

I laughed and said, “I call him my bitch.”

Four years, I’d known her, and after four years, she thought he was the Dom, and I was the sub.  Because he is large and intimidating, and can be rather intense, while I’m more laid-back and relaxed.

And also because it’s just not advertised.  I don’t need to lead him around with a collar and leash, okay.  I don’t need to make it obvious.  A munch is in a vanilla place.  No one makes it obvious.  Obvious shit like leading someone around on a collar and leash is actually frowned upon at munches.

So you can go to a munch without shouting from the rooftops that you’re a submissive man.  And again, everyone else at the munch is there for the same thing.

And the vanilla people at the venue, who aren’t part of the munch, don’t know what’s going on at all.  I’ve been to tons of munches at bars, restaurants, even a coffee shop, and none of the vanilla people ever knew.  We don’t dress in leather or fetish wear, okay.  We’re just a group of people hanging out.

There is literally no negative effect on one’s vanilla life.  There just isn’t.

I mean, think about it.  In Nevada, BDSM is illegal.  You cannot consent to be hit, in any way, shape, or form, under any circumstances.  Which is why we don’t have dungeons here.

So forget about submissive men for a second, and just look at Dominant men.  If a negative effect on one’s vanilla life were possible, it’s actually the Dominant men in this state that would suffer the most for it.  Because they’re the ones who are literally committing crimes behind closed doors.

They still go to munches.  Because going to a munch no effect on one’s vanilla life.  Like, I’m not making this shit up.  It’s true.  Going to a munch will not have any sort of impact on your vanilla life.  Going to a munch as a submissive man will not have any sort of impact on your vanilla life.

It just won’t.

The other thing I take issue with is a submissive man refusing to introduce his significant other to his friends or family because she is his Dominant, and he has an irrational and unfounded fear that someone will find out.

Which, unless your Dominant is completely psychotic (in which case, why did you offer your submission to her in the first place?), is not ever going to happen.

For example, when I moved in with Kazander, I would’ve had a serious issue if he refused to introduce me to his friends or family, despite the fact that we were living together.

And no, that doesn’t mean I would expect him (or any submissive) to introduce me as his Dominant.

I mean, what are people expecting?  How do you think that conversation would go?

“Yeah, Jen, these are all my drinking buddies.  Guys, this is my Mistress.  She owns me.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all.  Yeah, I totally bent him over and fucked him up the ass last night.  Did we get here in time for happy hour?”

I mean, seriously?

But this is apparently what a hefty chunk of submissive men actually think is going to happen.

When Kazander introduced me to his family and friends, he introduced me as his girlfriend.  When I introduced him to my vanilla friends and family, I introduced him as my boyfriend.

There is no negative effect of introducing your girlfriend to your vanilla friends and family, y’all.

And again, what we are and what we do in private is no one’s business.  Kazander’s family knows that I’m the one “in charge,” but that’s not a novel or unique thing.  Plenty of vanilla relationships are more or less “run” by the female partner.

I’ve never let anything slip about him being my sub, in the seven years that I’ve been with him.  As I said in the post, I will go out of my way to protect him from being found out.

And actually, I was talking about that with Sounder recently.  As I’ve said, I am transforming his bed into a pink, lacy, sissy bed.  The bedset actually just got in today, and I can’t wait to put it on his bed.  And eventually, I’m going to turn his entire house into a sissy paradise.

Which he won’t be able to hide from vanilla friends and family.

So I had a couple ideas for things he could tell his vanilla friends and family to explain all the pink.

His friends were easy, and it doesn’t even require outright lying.  Just stretching the truth with a couple little white lies.

Here’s something he could potentially tell his friends and his guy buddies:

Yeah, my girlfriend has a thing for pink.  She keeps bringing stuff over because she likes the way it looks.  She says it turns her on.  Yeah, it’s a little weird.

But you know what?

She’s a woman barely out of her twenties, with the most insatiable sex drive I’ve ever seen.  If she only makes me cum 10 times a week, it’s a slow week.  It’s hard to be upset about pink throw pillows on the couch when you’re mid-blowjob, about to have your 8th orgasm of the week, and it’s only Wednesday.

And aside from the blowjob thing, all of that is true.  Sissifying and feminizing him and his house turns me on.  Forcing him to live in a sissy house is fucking hot.  And I am barely out of my twenties, and my sex drive is pretty damn insatiable.

And because he has multiple orgasms (like a girl), it’s common for him to have more than ten orgasms when I fuck him.  Him having his 8th orgasm of the week on a Wednesday is completely feasible and realistic.

It’s all true.

But a couple weeks ago, he had his adult niece in town, and I realized that the story wouldn’t work for everyone.  Female relatives, female friends, some more conservative guests… there are plenty of potential situations where he probably shouldn’t talk about his girlfriend giving him multiple blowjobs.

So he’d need something else.  And while the story I came up with is not even remotely true, and a bit more involved, it would be much more appropriate for things like sisters/mothers/female relatives/professional associates/whatever.

So I met this girl awhile back.  She was in this horribly abusive relationship, and every time she tried to get away, he just made her life hell, and he threatened to hurt her or her family if she ever went to the cops or got a restraining order or anything like that.

She felt stuck, and didn’t know what to do.  I couldn’t just do nothing, you know.  I helped her get away, I protected her from him until she could get on her feet, and eventually he left her alone.

But we started hanging out, and started seeing each other.

She’d been with him most of her adult life, though, so it’s like she’s still not even sure of who she is outside of his influence.  And she’s so nervous about having her voice heard.  So when I found out that she liked pink, and always wanted a place with a lot of feminine touches, I encouraged her to go for it.

But she still doesn’t feel really safe or comfortable at her place, so I let her do it at mine.  And she was just kept down so much, you know, for so long, I wanted to just indulge her with this, and let her go nuts.  Having a pink house is annoying, but it’s definitely worth making her feel validated and helping her figure out who she is as a woman.

I mean, who could possibly fault him for that?  Not only is it plausible, but it totally makes him look like the hero.  He could tell that story, and everyone who hears it will think he has a pink house because he’s a knight in shining armor who rescued the damsel in distress, and sacrificed his own comfort and personal taste to help a woman feel good about herself.

But of course, he would know the truth.  He’d know that he has a pink house because he’s a sissy bitch.

The point is that I don’t expect any submissive man to come out in his vanilla life, to his vanilla friends.  There’s no point to it.  I’m not out to most of my vanilla friends, or my family.  Because why?  Whose business is it what I do with my subs behind closed doors?

None of Kazander’s friends or family know what we do in private, and I have no desire to change that.  As far as everyone thinks, I’m his wife.  And as far as everyone thinks, it’s a normal, monogamous relationship.

When I meet Sounder’s vanilla friends and family, none of them are ever going to know what we do in private.  As far as everyone will think, I’m his girlfriend.  And as far as everyone will think, it’s a normal, monogamous relationship.

Well……….

Except for one, that is.

Because I’m going to meet his guy friends, and get to know them a bit.  Then, I’m going to pick one.

I have a specific set of criteria he’ll have to meet, a specific personality type, a specific physical type, a specific mentality and attitude.

Once I find the one who meets that criteria, I’m going to pull him aside, when Sounder isn’t around.

And I’m going to arrange something very, very fun.

Allow me to set the scene.  I’m at Sounder’s house, with him dressed in his lovely sissy clothes, kneeling on his pink sissy bed.  I’m going to blindfold him and put noise-canceling headphones on him.

Then, I’ll go and open the front door, and let the friend in.  I’ll lead the friend upstairs, to see Sounder tied up, dressed up, and on his knees.

And Sounder will suck his dick.  And swallow his load, obviously.

Then, I will leave Sounder there and walk the friend out before untying him and taking the blindfold off.

And Sounder will have no idea which of his friends have shot their load in his mouth.  He’ll never know which of his friends have seen him in all his sissy glory.

And, as he pointed out when I described that scenario to him, in great, glorious detail, even if he suspected who it might be, it’s not like he could ever ask the guy about it.

So I mean, one of his friends will know.  Which is going to be so amazingly, wonderfully, incredibly awesome.

But, you know, no one else will know.

My point is that no, you don’t have to out yourself in your vanilla life.  That’s not what I was saying.

I was saying that refusing to go to or accompany your Domme to a kink event is a dick move.  And I was saying that refusing to introduce your girlfriend to the other people in your life because of your D/s dynamic is a dick move.

So basically, I’m saying don’t be a dick.

Why idiots are idiots

So this was the original answer I’d written for the comment left on my Feeding the Troll post.

It’s no secret that many within the Maledom and the vanilla world are less than accepting of male submission.  Attitudes range from indifferent disinterest to impassioned disgust.

The article I linked to described one Dom who curled his lip at a male submissive, and said, “I want to say, ‘be a man!'”

And again, my response to this is the same as my response to BBWs who deal with those who look down on them: who the fuck cares?

But when you look at where this attitude comes from, you realize that the mindset is so much more legitimately harmful than just one guy being a judgey asshole.

Now, I will give some men a bit of a pass on this, because in a few very rare cases, there is actually a legitimate reason for the discomfort.  I know this because I feel the exact same discomfort in seeing a woman dominated by a man (and while I know intellectually that submissive women consent to and enjoy sessions, and can handle seeing a BDSM session with a male Dom and female sub, to this day, I still cannot watch male-on-female rape fantasies, or even rape scenes in movies).

I mean, trauma can happen to literally anyone, man or woman, Dominant or submissive.  No one is immune.  And if a male Dom has experienced trauma at some point in his life, then yeah, I can give him a pass for being uncomfortable with watching it.

Being uncomfortable with watching it and feeling that a submissive man is “letting their team down,” however, are two very, very different things.  And come from two very, very different places.

First of all, it feeds into toxic masculinity, which actively harms all men, across all ages, social, economic, and religious backgrounds, and all races.

I’m actually serious.  We’re only just discovering that men are more prone to depression, simply because until only very recently, all the data we had was on diagnoses of depression.  And since men aren’t allowed to have feelings, of course they’re not allowed to acknowledge depression, much less get it diagnosed and treated.

Men are literally three times more likely to commit suicide than women.  In no small part because you can’t have feelings and be a “real man.”

But the problem is that men are biological human beings.  Biological human beings have human brains, and human brains produce strong emotions, whether those human beings have a penis or a vagina (or both, or neither).

Toxic masculinity is such a fitting name.  It’s seriously toxic.  It is literally killing men.  It is poisoning them from the inside out, and actually killing them.

What’s more, it’s an attack against femininity, as well as masculinity.  Because to these people, FemDom situations are seen as, at best, a joke, and at worst, completely unrealistic because of the belief that a woman could never be capable of leading a man.  And for a man to allow such an inferior being to be in a position of authority over him shows a failure as a man.

But this mindset that submissive men “aren’t real men” demeans women, too.  Because it feeds into that mindset that dominance=masculinity, and submission=femininity.

Which is where you get the idiots like the one who wrote that message, telling me that I’m not a “real woman” because I’m not submissive, and Star isn’t a “real woman” because she doesn’t want a Dominant man.

It’s an attack against masculinity, yes, and a fucking brutal and archaic one, but it’s also seen as a gender stereotype, in which submission is a feminine trait and femininity is inherently inferior to masculinity.

Which is not exclusive to BDSM, by the way.  It’s exactly why my daughter is allowed to and encouraged to like “boy” things.  People are proud of her when she talks about Superman, or how much she likes watching The Avengers or Deadpool (yeah, I know, I know.  Don’t feel like getting into the why-I-let-my-5-year-old-watch-Deadpool discussion right now).

My best friend has a son, whom I adore.  And it broke my heart when my friend told her preschool-age son he couldn’t have a babydoll that he wanted.

I said to her, somewhat angrily, “What are you worried about?  That he’ll grow up and want to be a dad?  The unmitigated horror!”

She said, “No, it’s not that.  Everywhere he goes, he’ll be ridiculed if he carries a doll around.  What’ll happen when he goes to school and the kids find out he has a doll?”

And I mean, I was just so heartbroken.  She’s teaching her son that femininity is shameful.  That a real man, a strong man, must not want or like or appreciate anything even remotely feminine.  Otherwise, he is not a real man.

My daughter is allowed to like cars, and superheroes, and dinosaurs, and the color blue (and dark blue is actually her favorite color).  She is allowed to like masculine things, and take pride in the fact that she likes masculine things.

My friend’s son is not allowed to like dolls, or kitchen sets (despite the fact that the vast majority of professional chefs are men, and it’s very much a male-dominated field), or princesses, or the color pink.  He is not allowed to like feminine things, and if he does, it is shameful.

Has no one wondered why that is?

Do any of you in the US remember how the entire country went fucking ballistic when a magazine showed a picture of a mother and young son, and the boy’s fingernails were painted?

Everyone thought it was just terrible to allow a happy little boy to express himself howeverthefuck he wants, whether it’s “boy” or “girl” stuff.

God forbid a little boy has the inner strength to tell society, “Fuck off, I’m doing what I want to do.”

We can’t have boys growing up to be strong men who are confident and sure of themselves, and accepting of themselves as well as other people who may not fit the current societal norms.  That’s just unacceptable.

We need sheep.

Seriously, those people disgust me.  Because they’re not going ballistic when a girl does something masculine.  Only when a boy does something feminine.

And none of them have stopped to think why.

Wanna know why?  I’ll tell you why.

It’s because you think femininity is shameful.  Pretty it up all you want, you can’t hide the truth.  You don’t mind women exhibiting masculine behaviors because masculinity is seen as a positive thing, and the girl who shows masculine behaviors is seen as “strong,” and “tough,” and “just fucking great.”

Because she is rising above the “inferiority” of femininity and making herself better.  That’s why you see the car mechanics girls and the karate girls and the chess genius girls on the talk shows.  They’re rising above their station, and they’re worthy of attention.

You never see feminine little girls get that kind of attention.  You never see the youtube videos of the little girl who sews intricate princess dresses from scratch go viral the way the videos of the little girl football player who runs circles around the boys do.  You never see the little girl with incredible knowledge of fashion get on the talk shows the way the black-belt karate girls do.

Because femininity is shameful.  It’s tolerated in girls, because I mean, they’re girls.  Most of them can’t be expected to rise above their biology.

So we accept it in girls.

We sure as hell don’t encourage it or celebrate it the way we do masculinity, though.

But for boys, it’s even worse.  Because they had the great fortune to be born male, they’re held to higher expectations.  Masculinity isn’t a “bonus” for them, that makes everyone fawn over them the way they fawn over girls.  It’s an expectation.

It’s special when a girl rises from the inferiority of feminine behavior.  It’s expected for a boy to do it.  Because he’s better than that.  Because he’s a boy.

And should he lower himself by wanting to exhibit feminine behaviors, then he’s confused, or just going through a phase, or maybe there’s something developmentally wrong with him.

But if a parent actually allows and encourages that kind of weakness in a boy?  Especially a father???

It’s just unspeakable.  It’s a father’s job to teach his son how to be a man.  It’s a father’s job to teach him that he isn’t allowed to like feminine things, because he’s a man, and men are above something as shameful and weak as femininity.  It’s a father’s job to teach his son that femininity is something to be ashamed of, and even a hint of any sort of feminine behavior will make him less of a man.

It’s a father’s job to teach his son how to be a real man.  And create another generation of sexist, misogynistic pigs.

Go ahead, tell me I’m wrong.  If any of my followers buy into that stupid shit, that boys shouldn’t be allowed to be feminine, go ahead.  Tell me your reasons.  Tell me how you pretty it up, how you convince yourself that you’re not a sexist, misogynistic pig.

My best friend is no exception.  Because she is perpetuating the idea that femininity in a man is shameful, and her son must hide these desires and impulses (such as a desire to be a parent.  I mean, the horror of a little boy fantasizing about growing up and protecting and caring for his child, and being a good father!  It’s the stuff of nightmares, and it’ll destroy society as we know it), and that such things are worthy of ridicule.  She is actively teaching her son that femininity, and all feminine roles and behaviors (such as child-rearing), is something to be tolerated (but not celebrated) in a woman, and looked down upon in a man.

Whatever her reasons are, when you boil it down, that’s what you have.  She views femininity in her son as shameful, so she must protect him from having those shameful attitudes and behaviors discovered.

It’s because, regardless of whether you’re a boy or girl, masculinity is seen as a positive thing, while femininity is seen as something to be ashamed of.

And when you add that attitude to D/s, you see the exact same thing.  To these people, submission is seen as feminine, and feminine = inferior.

I mean, the entire thought process is wrong, because Dominance and submission are not inherently masculine or feminine.  One has literally nothing to do with the other.  But that’s a different argument.

So I mean, the Dom mentioned in the article, who buys into this kind of attitude, is actively harming both men and women.  Including the women he may own, associate with, or play with.  Because how can you respect someone you see as inferior?  How can you care about, protect, and love someone you think could never be on your level?

And we cannot deny the strong probability that much of the discomfort at seeing a submissive man comes from the same place as the discomfort of seeing a female Dominant: they see it as a threat to their own masculinity.

In those cases, the men are not confident enough in who they are.  They are afraid of and intimidated by strong women, and unable to confront and accept their fear, so they push it off on others.  They choose to believe that only weak men can be submissive.

Because that’s easier to accept than being confronted by the fact that submissive men don’t share those insecurities, and that submissive men are confident enough and sure enough about who they are, that they’re not intimidated by strong, powerful women.  They can hold their own with such women.  They can meet her strength and intensity fearlessly and without hesitation, while these “Doms” cannot.

And again, this is not something that is exclusive to BDSM.

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Exhibit A: I submit President Petulant Child completely intimidated by and unable to handle German Chancellor Angela Merkel.  Here we see him utilizing the “If I don’t see it, it doesn’t exist” defense. He looks like a scolded child.  I like to imagine it’s because she told him he’s the USA’s Hitler.  Except, you know, orange.  Although interestingly enough, his face is quite pink in this picture.  Because he’s that intimidated by her, the color literally rises in his face.  Which, by the way, I find hilarious.

And I also just want to take a moment to go on a tangent, because I haven’t seen anyone else notice this.  But look at their body language.  She’s got her leg crossed toward him, her shoulders rotated toward him, and is leaning toward him.  Her hands are relaxed, there is space between her fingers, and she is looking directly at him, her head in a neutral position (she is neither leaning her head down, looking up at him, nor holding her head up, looking down at him).

Meanwhile, we see that the Child in Chief’s hands are together, his fingers close together, and pointing down.  He is also subtly leaning away from her, his lips are tight, his head slightly lowered, and his eyes downcast.

And I want to take a minute to talk about what that means.  Her body language conveys confidence, engagement and self assurance.  The fact that she’s leaning toward him, while he leans away, is a display of dominance, most noted by just how much she leans toward him.  She is displaying signs of feeling completely comfortable and sure of herself in his presence, while he is showing multiple signs of insecurity.

She is completely dominating this situation, and she knows it.  The fact that her hands and fingers are relaxed shows that she’s comfortable and secure, and space between her fingers is a sign of dominance, confidence, and even a territorial attitude.  She knows damn well that she intimidates the ever-loving fuck out of him, and she doesn’t have a single problem in the world with that.

But the most pronounced thing is the position of Prima Donald’s hands.  That position is called “Steepling,” and when fingers are pointed upward or outward, is the single most obvious display of confidence and self assurance.  So much so, that it’s the one position that doesn’t need to be taken in context with the rest of the body language.

His fingers, however, are pointed downward, and the steeple is upside down.  This is one of the most obvious signs of insecurity, and even fear.  When combined with the rest of his body language, it’s more than clear that he simply cannot handle her confident, dominating energy.

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And one more, because I just love this picture.  I love the expression on her face.  You can see that she’s totally thinking, “Holy hell, this is one pathetic, desperately-overcompensating manchild.  It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.”  Also, you see that her head is tilted slightly upward (now looking down at him), with the condescending smirk and her hands clasped together with thumbs out and fingers interlaced, which shows frustration and annoyance.  By this point, she has lost any semblance of respect for him as a man.  She sees him as pathetic, weak, and beneath her, and sees this whole thing as a waste of her time.  Meanwhile, he’s clasping his hands together, fingers not interlaced, which is a self pacifying gesture seen when one is uncomfortable or nervous.  And his head and eyes are still lowered.  I know nothing about Chancellor Merkel, but I’m instantly a fan.

So I mean, that’s a relatively common thing.  Insecure men are easily and often intimidated by strong women.  Insecure male Dominants will act the same way the Jersey Shore reject acted in Chancellor Merkel’s presence: avoidance, belittlement, and attempts to push the insecurity and discomfort onto others.

Or perhaps they harbor their own submissive feelings, but lack the inner strength to break free from society’s expectations (which, as I will explain later, is more likely than you might think.  Male submission is way more common than the average person realizes).  Perhaps they resent submissive men for possessing the strength they lack.  I’ve actually known a fair number of these men.  They’re quite common.

They’re drawn to BDSM because they have those desires, they have those fantasies.  But they are too weak to accept themselves, and societal norms dictate that they must be Dominant, because they’re men.  So they fall into that mold.

They know it doesn’t fit, though.  They know they’re unhappy, they know there’s something missing.  And when they see a submissive man, and are confronted with that man’s ability to be himself, to feel comfortable in his submissive skin, and to feel fulfilled in that role, it breeds resentment.

And because they believe that submission=femininity and femininity=inferiority, so submission=inferiority, they are uncomfortable with the idea of a submissive man being stronger than they are, so they choose to warp their mindset to protect their ego, and see the submissive man as weak.

I’ve had the unimaginable honor (and it was an honor, just ask him yourself) of speaking to one of the more vocal of these assholes, a man here in town well known through all local groups.  Everyone knows this guy’s name.  Everyone knows what a psycho he and his cult members are.

And I was lucky enough to learn firsthand just how easily intimidated he is by any woman who is not a complete doormat, and how badly he handles feeling intimidated.  His ego and his self image are so fragile, all I literally have to do in order to threaten him is exist.  That, he sees as a personal threat to who he is.  And when I politely but firmly refused to call him “Sir,” he just didn’t know how to handle it.  The only thing he could think of to do was to get hostile.

But he’s one guy, and the group he runs is small.

His is one of the most well-known names in town, but he and his followers comprise a wholly insignificant percentage of the local community.

These people are not the majority.  They’re just the loudest.  And, like with pretty much every large group in the history of humankind, the loudest are usually the craziest 0.5% of any given population.

But because they’re the loudest, most assume that they speak for the majority.

They don’t.

And what’s more, submissive men are actually in high demand.

They’ve done studies and polls with vanilla straight women, and found that literally a quarter of them prefer a more submissive partner.

And relationships are significantly more successful when there is a clear power dynamic (although it doesn’t matter which partner has the power).

You will always have people who say that women are meant to be dominated, and that to deny that is to deny evolution.  You’ll always have people who say shit like the stupid bitch said.  But the numbers are consistent, and the numbers don’t lie.

This study looked at two samples of BDSM kinksters, one in California, and the other in the Netherlands.  And there, they found some interesting things among women in liberal US culture, as opposed to Dutch culture (which I’m not saying is oppressive, I’m just saying that you don’t get much more socially liberal than California).

In both samples, the number of men who identified as exclusively submissive were about the same.  33% of Dutch men and 26% of American men identified as submissive.

Which in itself is a big deal, m’kay.  When submissive men make up a quarter to a third of the BDSM population, it might be time to retire the stupid stigmas.

But they found that only 8% of Dutch women identified as Dominant, while 30% of American women identified as Dominant.

So that was interesting (but misleading, but I’ll get to that).  And it showed that a significant number of men in the kink world are exclusively submissive.

There was another poll done with sexual fantasies that found something pretty interesting, as well.  While more men entertained dominant fantasies than women, and relatively few women entertained Dominant fantasies at all, the number of men who entertained submissive fantasies was much higher than expected.

Men like the male-submissive fantasy more than the male-dominant fantasy; 66% of men have submissive fantasies at least half the time.

Well over half of men have these fantasies.  Literally the majority, m’kay.

So why are they so badly ostracized?

You mentioned it yourself: The media.  But mostly because people are sheep.

The media generally sucks, but you do have massive outlets like Cosmo Magazine writing multiple articles about pegging, about Femdom power dynamics, and about toxic masculinity in regards to sexual desires (like pegging, or wanting to be submissive).

And millions of women are reading these. I mean, granted, Cosmo’s audience is late teens and early twenties, so the already-established bigots aren’t seeing them, but it’s my experience that all you can really do with bigots is hope they don’t reproduce before they die, anyway.

You also have the Huffington Post, who published a very-watered-down-but-still-decent article about the stigma surrounding submissive men, and how we as a society need to stop judging them.

This article looks specifically at powerful men in positions of authority, and how such men often have these desires.  They touch on the psychological effects of professional and social power, and how it tends to lead to a reduction of inhibitions and a decreased need for social conformity.  It cites a couple of different studies that show statistics on powerful men who are sexually and/or romantically submissive, and how these men are less sexually inhibited, and also put less weight on current societal gender norms, in no small part because of the effects of power on the human mind.

So not all media is bad.  And the more we speak out about male submission, the more we educate the public, the faster that stigma will fade.

Still, though, the single piece of advice I have for all submissive men who are unsure is to go to a munch.

I’m serious, and there’s a very real reason for it.

Because the very few men who actually do go to munches and events, depending on the group, are practically fucking celebrities. The first group Kazander and I joined was a mixed group, but mostly male Doms and female subs. There were 5 female Dommes who regularly attended.

Want to know how many male subs regularly attended? Including Kazander?

One. Kazander.

And he was always so popular among the Dommes. I mean, they all knew he was owned and never “tried anything” with him, they were all mostly awesome women. But he never wanted for women’s attention while he was there.

And don’t get me wrong, I adore my husband, but I can also admit that he is no Brad Pitt.

But try telling those Dommes that. Because it’s just that rare for a submissive man to come to a munch.

Groups that are exclusively Femdom do have a lot more male subs show up. But the vast majority are in their 60s or older. Which is awesome, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, and I’ve made some great friends with them, and have thoroughly enjoyed playing with one or two of them. They’re fantastic men.

But, while I was the youngest Domme in that group, it wasn’t by much. And as a 29-year-old Dominant who generally prefers men in the 40-50-ish age range, give or take a few years, I was just shit out of luck. The entire time I helped run the group, not a single sub under 55 ever showed up.

Not one.

And there were quite a few Dommes in their 30s, who may have preferred a sub closer to their age. Can you imagine how popular a man in that age range would be if he went to one of those?

I’ve had a couple of male subs tell me that (again, it depends on the group.  Some groups suck, some are awesome) it’s actually a huge ego boost to go to a munch. Even if it’s a mixed group and there’s just a handful of Dommes, chances are the vast majority of them either don’t have subs, or their subs never go with them.

We’ve all heard that stupid saying:  For every Dominant woman, there are 100 submissive men.

And yeah, that’s true on the internet. Among the men who message a Domme wanting to know her bra size before her name, and asking her to talk down to them while they jerk off before asking how she’s doing.

And when you look at studies like the one above, citing 8% of Dominant women against 33% of submissive men, it can be misleading, and further the notion that there are significantly more submissive men than Dominant women.

I’d even say the 100/1 ratio is conservative.  Based on the messages in my Twitter, email, Fet, and Facebook accounts in the last week, I’d venture that it’s actually closer to double that.

But I swear to you, that’s not even remotely true in real life.

The demand for submissive men is just laughably high. But because so many men see bullshit like this bitch’s comment, and think it’s the majority, they don’t go to munches. Or maybe they’ve had a bad experience in one group with a male Dom or female submissive, and allow that experience to color their perception.

They don’t go, and it’s so goddamn rare to see a Domme with a submissive man.  For example, of all the Dommes I know of here in town, of all the women I’ve seen at the play parties and munches, and have spoken to, want to know how many have a collared male submissive?

Three.  Including me, m’kay.  That ratio of submissive men to Dominant women is not 100/1.  I’d venture a guess that it’s closer to 1/100.

You don’t understand.  They are nowhere to be found.

Both of the mixed groups I belong to, by the way, are nothing but respectful of submissive men.  Kazander and I were married by a male Dom in one of those groups.  Kazander and I have had enjoyable conversations with more than one male Dom in the other group.  And one of Kazander’s really good friends is a submissive woman, who always asks where he is when I go to the play parties without him, and asks me to tell him she misses him.

That is the majority, okay.  Even in most mixed groups.  There are assholes in every group, but the vast majority of male Doms and female subs are completely normal people.

That is what you can expect.

Not psycho-bitch.  Hell, the sheer level of craziness, and the novelty of such craziness, is why I decided to publicly humiliate her.

Dominant women are here.  We’re at the munches, we’re at the play parties, and most of the time, we don’t have a sub of our own.

Because so many of them are just too ashamed to be seen with us.  Because they hear the craziest 0.5% and think it’s representative of the majority.  Because they buy into the bullshit.

We want you. We want you around. We’re going to treat you like a fucking king when you show up, because we want you around.

There are, at least in Vegas, wayyyy more than twice as many Dommes as there are submissive men. And from things I’ve been told, that seems to be about the norm across the country, with some exceptions.

So seriously, I know it’s easier said than done, but don’t let the psychos turn you off from who you are.

There are people who aren’t going to want you.  There are people who aren’t going to respect you.

But there are so many who do.