Cultivating a Dominant Presence

Anyone can put on a corset and leather mini skirt.  Anyone can tie her hair up in a severe bun and draw on black eyeliner.  Anyone can wear thigh-high boots and swing a flogger.

Any woman can put on the costume.  But what makes someone a Dominant?

In a word: Presence.

A Dominant has to be able to command respect, embody authority, and basically intimidate the hell out of everyone when she wants to.

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Command respect, convey power, exude authority

I remember the first time I met my mentor.

I’d seen pictures of him, of course, but it was entirely different meeting him in person.  When he walked through the door, everyone in the building noticed.

It was like in those movies where the main character’s crush walks in to the party, and everyone just stops.  Time seems to move in slow motion as all eyes turn to the door.

That’s the way my mentor was.  He didn’t just have confidence; he had presence.

And it was intimidating as hell.

I knew immediately that’s what I wanted to be.

I wanted to be able to command a room like he could.  I wanted to be the one that made time slow down.

I had no idea how to be like that.  I had some major self esteem issues as a teenager, and when I looked at this confident, charismatic, knowledgeable, secure, self-assured man, I was 100% sure I could never hold a candle to that.

Who he was as a Dominant and a person was so far above and beyond who I was, it was like we weren’t even the same species.  I couldn’t imagine that I would ever be in the bracket as him.

Turns out, I was wrong.

Charisma isn’t something you’re born with, guys.  It’s not something you either have or you don’t.  And it’s not something you have to be a supermodel or a bodybuilder or a celebrity to have.

Anyone can master the skill.

And if you want to be a Dominant, you have to learn it.  It’s so much more important than the clothes or the dungeon or the toys.

It’s the difference between something you do and something you are.

But it can be difficult for someone who is new to the scene, who may not be naturally charismatic.

I heard a woman named Olivia Fox Cabane talk about charisma, using Marilyn Monroe as an example.

Everyone knows who Marilyn Monroe was.  She became the most iconic sex symbol and a powerful role model for women, so much so that she’s still a relevant figure, 50 years after her death.  She was a sex-positive, body-positive icon for women.

Many thought that her career was over when it was discovered that she’d posed nude before becoming an actress.  In the 50s, that was pretty much an instant career-killer.

But not for her.  It skyrocketed her career, and when she became frustrated with the sexist and misogynistic practices in Hollywood, she founded her own production company.

There are a handful of people in every generation who have truly mastered the art of charisma.  She was one of those people.

Ms. Cabane related a story told by a photographer who accompanied Marilyn one day.  Marilyn’s goal was to show the true power of charisma.  She wanted to illustrate to the photographer what her “secret” was, how she had harnessed this real-life superpower, and used it to propel her forward.

What Marilyn wanted to show was that just by deciding to, she could either be glamorous Miss Monroe or plain Norma Jean Baker (her real name).  On the subway, she was Norma Jean, but when she resurfaced on to the busy New York sidewalks, she decided to turn into Marilyn.  So she looked around and she teasingly asked the photographer, “So, do you want to see her?  The Marilyn?”  And then, he said, there were no grand gestures, she just fluffed up her hair and struck a pose.  And yet, with this simple shift, she suddenly became magnetic.  An aura of magic seemed to ripple out from her and everything stopped.  Time stood still, as did the people around her, who stared in amazement as they suddenly recognized a star standing in their midst.

No one bothered her or recognized her on the subway.  She was just one of many attractive young women in a big city.  There was nothing special about her.

But then, all she had to do was turn on that light inside of her.  A subtle change in presence, in posture, in expression, and everyone within sight of her noticed her.  She became that character in the movies who walks into the party, and even the photographer, who had spent the entire day with her, was awed by her presence.

That’s what charisma is.  That’s what it means.  And that’s just how important it is.

And no, it’s not reserved for the young, the beautiful, the rich, the famous.  Everyday people like you and me are capable of it.

Which begs the question, how?

I’ll probably write more on this subject, but the first step is the biggest, and that’s what this post is about.

The first thing to do is feel good about yourself.  And you don’t have to be a size-6, 22-year-old supermodel to feel good about yourself.

Feeling good about what you see in the mirror has laughably little to do with what you actually look like.

Everyone is eventually going to get old, everyone’s body is eventually going to decline.  That 22-year-old supermodel is going to wake up one day and see stretch marks, flabby arms, and sagging tits looking back at her in the mirror.

And then what?

If her self image is wrapped up exclusively in how she looks, her self image will decline as her body does.

You don’t want that.

It’s not about your appearance.  It’s about training your brain to focus on your best attributes, while glossing over the less-than-perfect ones.

As it is, most of our brains do the opposite.  It’s just a matter of turning that around.

Think of the brain like a muscle.  The more you train it to take certain pathways, the stronger those pathways get, and the more your brain wants to take those pathways naturally.

A tool that worked for me in the beginning was to use my clothes and makeup.  I spent hours and hours poring over fashion and makeup tutorials, learning how to accentuate the positives and minimize the negatives.  I probably know more about fashion now than I do about cars.

And I know how to make that knowledge work for me.

When I’ve got the right bra, the right low-cut top, and the right butt-hugging jeans, it’s hard not to like what I see in the mirror.

When I like what I see, other people notice.

I’ve been asked what my “secret” is, how I’m able to carry a room or talk someone into doing what I want, how I’m able to intimidate or allure, without saying a word.

But there’s no secret.  I’m not Heidi Klum.  I’m not some untouchable icon that other women could never hope to be.  I don’t have magic powers.

Guys, I need to stress this:

I’m not a model.  I’m only 3 years away from leaving the “Young Adult” club.  I’m fortunate in how I carry weight, but I’m a BBW.  Objectively, I’m average-looking.

How average?

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Please forgive the dirty mirror, my 6yo wanted to “help” me clean today.

This is a typical sleeping outfit for me.  Panties, a tank top, and a sleeping bra (which is just a fancy name for a sports bra that’s a size or two too small, tight enough to keep everything in place while I’m asleep).

You can see that my body isn’t perfect.  You can see the cellulite and the Mexican thighs and the big hips (I have reproduction to thank for that).  Pull up the tank top and you can see stretch marks and a C-section scar.  Pull the bra up and you can see stretch marks on my boobs from when they literally went from a DD to an HH in less than 3 months, then shrank back down to an F.

My BMI puts me in the top 47% of women my age in the country.  Literally the definition of average.  My face is average, too.  My forehead is high, my hair is fine, and my lips are thin.

I’m telling you all of this because it’s so important for people to understand that being magnetic, commanding respect, and exuding authority has nothing to do with the way you look.

There’s nothing special about the way I look.

But when I turn on that light inside me, I’m exemplary.

And people notice.

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As I said, exemplary.  And I’m actually about 15 pounds heavier in this picture, originally published in an older post.

And it’s not because I’m prettier or younger or thinner or smarter than anyone else.  It’s not because I’m a low-key superhero with magic powers.

It’s because I know how to use charisma.  And I know how to use it because I learned how.  It’s not something I was born with.  It’s not something that came naturally to me.

But I learned it.  And the first step was learning how to feel good the way I looked.  It wasn’t about waiting until the way I looked made me happy, it was about becoming happy with the way I looked.

Everything else comes from that.  Every charismatic and magnetic person started with that.  With feeling good about what they look like and who they are (this post focuses specifically on physical appearance, but feeling good about yourself as a person is just as important).

Feeling good about yourself means that other people are inclined to feel good about you.  And if you’re an average-looking person who knows what it feels like to be ignored and shrugged off, you genuinely appreciate the attention.  And when you genuinely appreciate the attention, you’re warm and friendly.

And when you’re warm and friendly, you’re likeable.  When you’re likeable, even more people take notice.

It’s a snowball effect that only gets bigger and bigger once it starts.

So how to start it?

It starts with putting on a nice outfit, looking in the mirror, and thinking, “You know, that’s not half bad.”

Do that often enough, for long enough, and it turns into, “Damn, that’s actually pretty good.”

And then, almost overnight, you find yourself commanding the respect and attention of everyone around you.

International Sex Workers’ Rights Day

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So March 3rd is International Sex Workers’ Rights Day.

I am not currently a sex worker, but I have been in the past, and there’s always the possibility I could be again.  I rather enjoyed my work.

Of course, there was the occasional client I had no interest in or the occasional fetish I had to pretend I liked, but I’d say I thoroughly enjoyed myself 75% of the time.

And think of your day job.  How many people can say they legitimately enjoy their jobs 75% of the time?

It’s fewer people than you think.

Sex work is work.

It’s a legitimate form of income for those who choose it.

But today, the biggest enemies of sex workers are not the old, rich, white men running our government.

They’re the “feminists” who claim that it’s demeaning.  The sex-worker exclusionary radical feminists, or SWERFs.

These angry, bitter women criminalize all human sexuality, but particularly male sexuality.  And they belittle and objectify the women who choose to embrace their own sexuality and celebrate male sexuality.

Just today, actually, SWERFs called me, and the other sex workers participating in the discussion, rented wet spots, disposable merchandise, and objects to be bought and sold.

But men are the ones who demean us.  Gotcha.

The fact that this archaic view of sexuality still exists in 2018 is disturbing.  It makes a habit of removing women’s agency and ability to decide for themselves.

If a woman doesn’t want to be a sex worker, she shouldn’t have to be.  If she’s forced into it against her will, it’s trafficking and rape, and every woman needs to be protected from that.

But this line of logic that equates good, decent, law-abiding citizens engaging in a mutually beneficial and consensual arrangement with rapists and criminals always confuses me.

I’m not a damsel in distress.

I don’t need saving.  There does not exist a man alive that intimidates or scares me.  I’ve had a knife pulled on me, I’ve had a gun pointed at me (turns out it wasn’t loaded, but I didn’t know that at the time), I’ve spent time with a convicted rapist (who insists he didn’t do it, but I sorta think he did) and a convicted murder (who insists he didn’t do it, and I sorta think he didn’t).  I’ve been raped, I’ve been threatened, I’ve been stalked, I’ve been harassed, I’ve been sexually assaulted, I’ve been mugged, I’ve been beaten.

I’ve been at the mercy of men who wanted to break me.  And every single one of them failed.

I don’t need your help.  I don’t need you to protect me from something you’ve decided I need protecting from.  There was a while where I had an issue with mentally freezing when I was out alone with my daughter, but even that wasn’t so much fear as, “What’s going to happen to her if something happens to me?”

That was an unacceptable reaction for me, and not doing anything about it wasn’t an option, so I fixed it.  I didn’t need a knight in shining armor or a misandrist SWERF to come in a rescue me.  I just needed the tools to figure out how to do it myself.

Bitch, I don’t need your help.  I will never need your help.

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Sex work is not sex slavery.

Sex trafficking is deplorable, and heinous, and tragic, and disgusting.  The women and children who are forced or coerced into these situations desperately need help.

And we need to help them.  Sex workers hate trafficking just as much as anyone else.  We want to stop trafficking just as much as anyone else.  The idea of a woman or child being forced into it turns my stomach.  These are human beings, but they have been dehumanized and turned into commodities.

Those who insist on putting me in the same category as the women who have been kidnapped, sold, tortured, raped, and murdered is offensive, not just to me and the men I’ve consensually provided a service for, but for those victims.

Equating sex work with sex trafficking trivializes and demeans what those women go through.  The absolute, utter hell that those women endure.  I’ve been raped, I know what that feels like, and nothing infuriates me more than people who trivialize and disrespect the people who have to live that, day in and day out, until they are killed (sex trafficking victims don’t die of old age, y’all).

And anyone who equates consensual sex work with something as heinous as trafficking immediately loses all respect from me.  It’s a repugnant and disgusting mindset, and I pray to God that those people never reproduce.

Because you just can’t help someone who is that shitty of a human being.

Prostitution has a noble and rich history.

It is literally the oldest human profession.  And while I know that prostitutes in different cultures have been widely respected, the culture I know the most about is the American West, where I live.

The American West very literally owes its fucking existence to prostitutes.

I’m serious, you guys.  That’s not an exaggeration.  It’s literally the truth.

What happened is that men came out here to be miners, ranchers, etc.  They set up their little tents and lived off the land.  And in places like Nevada and much of California, the land wasn’t easy to live off of.

The prostitutes followed, looking for work.  They saw these little shanty towns and said, “Fuck everything about that.”

In many towns, the absolute richest residents were prostitutes.  And brothels were not run by men, but by women.

Prostitutes were the ones who paid to have schools and hospitals built.  They supported and backed the politicians who did their bidding.  They influenced western American culture more than any single group since the dawn of the nation.

And they were widely respected.

A well-known Nevada prostitute was Julia Bulette, who was the first white woman to live in Virginia City, NV.  She was easily the most respected and widely-loved person in the town.  She was educated, intelligent, witty, and charming, a tall and slender brunette with expressive dark eyes.

She had a soft spot for miners, and for firefighters in particular.  When miners became ill after drinking contaminated water, she opened her home to them and worked tirelessly to nurse them back to health.  They called her an angel of mercy, and one miner described her as “having caressed Sun Mountain with a gentle touch of splendor.”

Indescribably wealthy, she donated vast sums to the firefighters for new equipment and training to keep them safe (in fact, she donated so much of her wealth to the town, she drove herself to debt).  She also personally worked the water pump when it was needed.

She became an honorary firefighter, and on July 4, 1861, she was named Queen of the Independence Day parade.

She was murdered inside her home, and the entire city shut down to mourn her, and her funeral was attended by thousands.

A year later, a drifter was charged and convicted of her murder, and hanged.  His execution was witnessed by the entire town, including the notable Mark Twain.

She was a feminist icon and she remains so, 150 years after her death.  She is a beautiful example of what a woman can do, even in a society specifically designed to oppress women.

When women were granted the right to vote, 13 western states simply laughed.  Women had been voting there for decades.  Wyoming in particular refused to join the Union unless Wyoming women could retain their right to vote.  They also boast the first female governor.

Montana appointed the first female to the US House of Representatives before the 19th Amendment was passed.  Kansas boasts the first woman mayor of an American town.

And why do you think women in these western states were treated so much better than their eastern and southern countrywomen?

Because of prostitutes, y’all.

Because tiny little shanty mining towns were fine for the men who lived there, but the women wanted more.  They made the little desert towns habitable.  They created a society that would not have existed without them.

If you live in the west of the Mississippi River, chances are, you owe your very existence to prostitutes.  They were powerful, they were rich, they were influential, they were respected.

It wasn’t until the criminalization of prostitution that it began being seen as something oppressive.

Of course, prostitution was dangerous, as evidenced by Julia Bulette (although it’s unclear whether her profession had a direct influence on her death.  Although her profession was why she become such a prominent figure, and her prominence definitely made her a target).

Prostitutes died in childbirth, they died of disease, and not all of them were rich.  It was a dangerous job, not for the faint of heart.  It could paint huge targets on the backs of women.  It wasn’t an easy life.

But it’s a life that western pioneers chose.

The criminalization of prostitution saw the rise of pimps and people who coerced women into the profession.  Because illegal, unsanctioned, unsupervised, unprotected acts drew a large number of undesirables, and women found themselves needing large male protectors to keep them safe.  Those large male protectors then began taking advantage of women, and gave rise to the modern pimp.

We see the difference in the practice of illegal prostitution vs legal prostitution even now.  In places where it is legal, like parts of Nevada, brothels are managed, supervised, and regulated.  While in places where it is illegal, you see private gangsters as pimps, who will beat and rape their girls if they don’t make enough money.

Of course, there are problems in brothels, too.  You hear stories of women being coerced into having sex with friends of the brothel owner, or being coerced into doing things they don’t want to do.

Because where can they go for help?

What can be done if they report it?  Who would support them?

The criminalization of prostitution has harmed the women who choose it as their profession, and it has harmed countless women who have been forced into it against their will.

And all because sexuality has become something dark and shameful in the eyes of so many people.

Men who choose to pay women are seen as misogynists, and women who choose to provide a service for a fee are seen as brainwashed victims.  The agency and ability of these women to consent to what they want, to do what they wish with their bodies, has been removed.

Sex is the only thing that can be given away for free, but not sold.  How dumb is that?

Sex work isn’t for everyone.  And no one who doesn’t want it should ever be coerced or forced into it.  But for those who want it, for those who choose it, they should have the right to do what they want with their bodies.

Sexuality is a beautiful thing.  Even sex that we see as “dark” or “depraved” is beautiful.  It can bring people closer together.  It has legitimate, measurable health benefits.  And for those of us who choose it, it’s really a hell of a lot of fun.

But Jen, sex work doesn’t empower women.

First of all, find me a sex worker who feels that way.

Secondly, why does it have to be empowering?

Does being a mailman empower you, as a woman?  Does being a hairstylist or cashier or waitress or babysitter empower you, as a woman?

Chances are, no.  And no one fucking cares.  When I drove truck, no one ever asked me if I felt empowered by my career.

But sex workers get asked that all. the. fucking. time.

I personally found it empowering, because I was working full time and still couldn’t pay my bills.

I could make my own hours, set my own rules, choose who I decided to have sessions with, and designate the boundaries and rules that my clients were expected to follow.

Not a single client ever disrespected me or tried to cross a boundary.  And I could pay my bills, and I had some financial breathing room that my day job didn’t provide.  In a town with a 10% unemployment rate, I was highly sought after and had clients who would drive two hours or more, just to spend $200 for two hours of my time.

But Jen, the legalization of sex work has increased sex trafficking.

No, it really hasn’t.

You’re thinking of a 2012 “study” that defines trafficking as anyone who crosses a national boundary and then engages in sex work.

To use US states, if prostitution is criminalized in Utah and legalized in Nevada, is it really that much of a stretch to think that the women who engage in illegal sex work in Utah will relocate to Nevada, where they can do it legally?

What a shock that “sex trafficking” increases.

When you use a realistic definition, like “women and children being forced or coerced into sex work,” you find that the legalization of sex work greatly diminishes sex trafficking in that area.

See New Zealand and New South Wales.

But Jen, so many misogynists demean women through sex work.

Yeah, and how many of those are women?

There will always be assholes.  Some of those assholes will be men, and some of them will refuse to respect a woman who engages in sex work.  I’m not even a sex worker now, and my Facebook inbox is full of men who are insulted that their wishes to engage in a paid cam session with me went ignored.

They feel that because I’m a Dominant, and because I’m on Facebook, I must be a professional, and if I’m a professional, I must drop everything when they snap their fingers, to go and worship their penises.

This is not new, you guys.  There will always be assholes.  Decriminalizing prostitution will not solve the asshole-human problem.

No sane or reasonable person is looking at the decriminalization of sex work as a solution to that problem.

The bottom line?

The only experts on sex work are sex workers.

The only people whose opinions about sex work matter are sex workers.  The only people who have the power to decide what to do with their bodies are the owners of those bodies.

The only people who have the right to dictate what sex work should be are the people who do it.

Are you a sex worker?  No?

Then shut the hell up.

 

A feminine sissy body

What’s sexier than a sissy slut?

Last time I was with Sounder, I noticed something while he was lying on his back, on his pink sissy bed, wearing his pretty lingerie.

He really is looking more and more feminine now that he’s been taking the birth control for awhile. His body looks softer, rounder, with more pronounced curves.

I can already see his tits under his clothes even when he’s wearing his boy costume. And it was so awesome when I realized that his boobs had gotten that big. We were out, having a couple of drinks after work, and he was wearing his normal professional work clothing.

At one point, he stretched in the chair, and I could plainly see the outline of his breasts under his shirt.

It was unbelievably hot.

Of course, that was a while ago, and his body has only gotten more feminine since then.

The most recent things I’ve noticed are his waist and hips. He really is developing a fucking sexy hourglass figure.  I love that I can see that subtle curve in his waist now.  And the longer he’s on the pills, the more pronounced those curves will become.

I mean, look at this picture.  If you didn’t know that this is a biological male, you’d totally look at this and assume it’s a pussy under those panties.

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My sissy is getting closer and closer to permanently crossing that line between masculine and feminine.  She’s getting closer and closer to becoming more girl than boy.

I’m so excited to see how his body continues to change.  Aren’t you excited to see how his body continues to change?

Purple!

So I had to buy a new strap-on after my toy bag was stolen, and settled on a new harness and purple dildo.

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This purple dildo

And as it happens, Sounder bought some new lingerie to surprise me with. Which was purple.

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Isn’t she sexy?

So we’re color-coordinated, isn’t that fun?

And holy shit, my sissy looks amazing with things inside of her.  It makes me want to put even more things inside of her.  Bigger things.

Like my fist.

Yeah, that would be hot as hell.  Let’s make that happen.

The good bottle or the bad bottle?

I love games. Don’t you love games?

I totally love games.

I might have thought of a new game. Figuring out logistics will take some work, but it’s possible.

So Sounder is going to be fucked by Kazander. This we all know.

I was talking to Sounder about that today, specifically about how much of an eager sissy cockwhore he is with me, and how much he dreads being fucked by a man.

What, Jen? What would be awesome?

I’m glad you asked.

Okay, so Sounder has never had a real cock in him. He has no idea what that feels like. He doesn’t really know what to expect.

So here’s what I’m thinking. I’ll tie his wrists to his ankles and lay him on his side.

Like this, except with rope and on his side

And I’ll blindfold him, so he can’t see anything.

Then, either Kazander or I will come up behind him and enter him, careful not to touch him except for the cock.

And then, once one of us is inside him, he’ll have to guess who it is.

We’ll have to be careful, though.

Because if he feels a strap-on harness or bare skin, he’ll know who’s in him. He also knows my touch, so if one of us grabs or touches him, he’ll know.

I’ll have to use a new dildo, too. One right about the same size as Kazander’s cock, that Sounder has never seen. Preferably one of the ones that are supposed to feel realistic.

With him tied up like that, we should be able to get almost all the way in him without touching him.

Hopefully. And that’s where I wonder if it might not be feasible. There’s such a tiny margin of error. If he feels or senses or hears anything else, it’ll tip him off.

But if it goes right…

All he’ll have to go on is the cock inside of him.

If he guesses right, we’ll spitroast him, with me fucking his pussy and Kazander fucking his mouth.

If he guesses wrong, we’ll switch. Kazander will fuck his pussy and I’ll fuck his mouth.

And of course, I love the idea of Kazander being the one in him, and then when he makes his guess, I’ll take the blindfold off, and he’ll look up to see if he guessed right.

And he’ll look up to meet the eyes of the man whose cock is inside him right at that moment. Not only will he realize that a man’s cock is penetrating him for the very first time, but he’ll look up and meet Kazander’s eyes, as he feels his cock filling him up.

Whether or not he guesses right, that could be a fun moment.

Of course, if he guesses right, that means Kazander will pull out of him and start fucking his mouth. So he won’t have to be fucked by a man, but he’ll still be facefucked by one, and he’ll still have to swallow his load, and he’ll get to experience ass to mouth for the very first time.

But then again, that may be too easy. Sounder is very much aware of my love of a good mindfuck. And putting Kazander in him is definitely something I would do, just to fuck with him.

So he would likely expect that.

And besides, it would also be amazing if I’m the one in him, and he guesses wrong, and realizes that he could’ve had me fucking him, and instead he gets to deepthroat my cock (which was just in his pussy) while a man fucks him.

But he may expect that, too. Because putting Kazander in him is the obvious choice. He knows I’m not going to go for the obvious choice, so he may expect that it’ll be me in him.

In which case I’ll definitely need to put Kazander in him.

Really, it’s less about trying to determine what’s inside of him by the way it feels, and more about what he thinks I’m going to do.

It’s like that riddle in Sherlock and Princess Bride.

Did I put my cock in him, or Kazander’s?

“Did I give you the good bottle or the bad bottle?”

You know, except no one dies, and we spitroast a sissy.

How many times will I go back and forth before settling on the answer? What do I think he’ll expect me to do? What does he think I’ll expect him to guess?

Like I said, I don’t actually know if it can be done, but if it can, you’d better believe that’s what I’m going to do, and it’ll be so much fun!

Discreet play

One effect of having a kid is that you have to learn to be creative with play.  I can’t make Kazander strip down to his panties and lead him around by his collar while she’s around, and since she’s as much of a night owl as I am (it’s currently 11:30 at night, and she just came back out to ask about a book she was reading.  She’s showing exactly zero signs of tiredness), it can be even more difficult to squeeze some quality playtime in there.

So we’ve learned to improvise.  We’ve learned how to be discreet and opportunistic.

And I figured I’d put together a list of things we’ve done, ideas we’ve had, in case anyone else has experienced this same problem.  I’ll undoubtedly come back and add more to it as time goes on.  If you have any other ideas for discreet play, let me know in the comments!

  • I do the cleaning at home, and one of my favorite things is to put Kazander in chastity, then wear some nice lingerie (my kid has seen me naked, in my underwear, and in lingerie so much, that it’s not out of the ordinary for her to see it) and “accidentally” drop something right in front of him while he’s sitting on the couch.  Teasing him and making him give my ass a quick kiss while I’m wiping down the coffee table is a great way to remind him of his place in the relationship.
  • Make him wear lacy panties.  The more over-the-top feminine, the better.
  • Never underestimate the power of a butt plug.  Especially one that’s remote-controlled.
  • If you’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, stretch your foot out and use his cock as a footrest, occasionally wiggling your foot or adjusting so he doesn’t get too used to it.
  • Make him draw you a bath or make you some tea or coffee.  Something small and easy, just enough to remind him that he’s your bitch and does what you tell him.
  • If he needs a bigger reminder, send him to Walmart to buy himself a pair of panties.  Only a pair of panties, and he cannot use the self checkout.
  • Alternatively, send him to an adult bookstore to get something embarrassing.  I like the Titan Men Anal Stretcher, but any prostate massager, or anything insertable with a picture of a man on the box will work, too.
  • A shibari harness under his clothes is another good way to provide a constant reminder of his position.  You can find a tutorial for a basic shibari harness here, with my sexy sissy posing for me.  It’s simple enough that it won’t be seen under a T-shirt, but you can reach out and grab the rope through the shirt, and have a little bit of fun with him.
  • Movie theaters and restaurants are great places for the occasional grope or pinch.  If you’re in an empty movie theater, make him edge once during the movie.
  • While he’s taking a shower, go into the bathroom and make him masturbate while you watch.
  • Make him give you a footrub, or teach him how to give pedicures and make him give you one regularly.
  • Back rubs and neck rubs are great, too.
  • Come up behind him while he’s cooking, doing dishes, making coffee, etc, and wrap your arms around his waist, grabbing his cock and squeezing just a bit.  Just enough to make him flinch.  Then walk away like nothing happened.

“My husband asked me to put him in chastity. Help!”

Okay, first of all, relax.  Take a breath.

Your husband isn’t a pervert, he isn’t a freak.  He’s not sick.

He’s also not the only one.

In fact, of the top 10 search terms that lead people to this blog, numbers 4, 6, and 7 are all about male chastity specifically.  This is more common than you think.

But, for all the wonders that the internet brings to our lives, it can also be overwhelming, and most of what you will find online is porn that may or may not be a tad off-putting to someone unfamiliar with the fetish.  Of the advice out there, most is geared toward the husband, or geared toward a woman who already wants it.

And, yeah, I’m guilty of that, too.

If you google “My husband wants me to put him in chastity,” you’ll get something that looks a little like this:

Screenshot (3)

A Yahoo Answers thread, a Reddit thread, a blog post that reads suspiciously like fiction (although I could very well be wrong, I’m sure as hell in no place to judge the content of someone else’s blog), and my post detailing a strategy for a gung-ho wife and reluctant husband.

But what, really, is out there for an unsure, inexperienced, or reluctant wife?  When your husband approaches you with something like this, something you might not have even ever heard of, the internet can sometimes do more harm than good.

So what to do?

Again, relax.  There’s nothing wrong with him for wanting it, and there’s nothing wrong with you for being unsure.

For as progressive as we like to pretend we are, we’re really not a very sex-positive species.  Even within close, intimate marriages, talking about sex can be taboo, uncomfortable, or awkward.  And when sexual desires fall outside the realm of what we assume to be mainstream, that gets even more uncomfortable.

So take a minute and give yourself permission to feel uncomfortable.  It’s overwhelming.  It’s different from everything you know.  It’s okay to be a little freaked out.

But at the same time, there is something you must understand, regardless of what happens from here on out.

I was a professional Dominatrix.  I’ve also been a professional keyholder and a financial Dominatrix.  Which are all just fancy words for men paying me to engage in various BDSM-related activities with them.

And would you like to know what 90% of my clientele consisted of?

Married men.

Why?  Lots of reasons, and we’ll avoid getting into that here, this will already be long enough.  The point is that coming to you with this took a lot of courage on his part, a lot of trust in you, and a lot of hope that this wouldn’t blow up in his face.  This isn’t something all women are open to, it’s not something all women are accepting of, and many men suffer in silence, or they pay professionals.

He hoped that maybe, just maybe, you might be open to it.  Or at least wouldn’t think any less of him as a man or as your husband.

Imagine if you had a fantasy that many might call “depraved” (…and, just between us girls, you know you do).  Imagine telling him about it, asking him to help you make that fantasy a reality.

What if he judges you?  What if he rejects you?  What if he tells his friends?  Your friends?  God, what if your family finds out?  What if he’s freaked out, or disgusted, or can never look at you the same way again?

Pretty scary to think about, right?  Men are conditioned not to show emotion, but that doesn’t mean they don’t feel it.  That fear, that insecurity, that’s what he felt when he brought this to you.  This is something that he likely wrestled with for months, at the very least.

So take a moment to appreciate the fact that he told you.  Regardless of whether this is something you actually want to do, recognize what it took to bring this to you.  It wasn’t easy, and it’s a pretty strong indicator of how deeply he feels for you.

Also, keep in mind that, as you’re reading this, he’s likely swimming in anxiety, waiting to see what your thoughts are, what you’ll think of this fetish, what you’ll think of him.

So maybe take a quick moment to reassure him that you’re not going to run screaming into the night (… because, just between us, you know you’re not).  And that you’re not going to leave him, or think less of him.  It’ll put his mind at ease while you try to figure out what the hell it is he’s asking you to do.

But that brings us back to the problem at hand: What the hell are you supposed to do?

Chastity, for the newbies out there, is the act of putting a device on the penis, preventing touch and sexual pleasure. The device is locked on, and you, as his wife, would hold the key, and therefore control when (or if) he is allowed sexual pleasure.

There are plenty of blogs run by men in chastity, and I’ll share links to a few down at the bottom of this post.

There are, unfortunately, fewer blogs run by women who put their husbands in chastity full-time (I put my husband in chastity, but it’s on a more part-time basis, and I don’t write about it all that often).  But still, reading some of the blogs run by men will help.  It’s not porn (although they do have the occasional steamy recap of the previous night’s activities), and it’s not spruced up and exaggerated.  It’s just a normal guy writing about his daily life in chastity.

Reading these will help you get an idea of what it’s like.  But don’t read them as gospel (and don’t read this post or my writings about chastity as gospel, either).  There are no hard and fast rules for chastity.  It’s what you want, what works for you.

There are tons of benefits to putting your husband in chastity, and a couple of cons.  So let’s go through them.

Pros:

  • Your sex life will improve
    • “But wait, he’ll be locked up, probably for extended periods of time.  How would that improve our sex life?”  I know, it seems counterintuitive, but trust me, there will be a drastic improvement, and I’ll get to that in a bit.
  • Your bond with improve, and strengthen
    • This is an interesting phenomenon that starts with the physical and erotic, but then moves deeper.  By holding the key to his chastity cage, you control when he can access that part of his body.  You become the sole source of his sexual gratification.  He looks exclusively to you for that pleasure.  It will become habit-forming, and he’ll begin looking to you in other areas of life, as well.  It’ll open up a part of him that he’s never had opened up before.  He won’t become emotionally dependent on you, per se, but he’ll definitely show more vulnerability, and won’t feel the need to hide behind that veil of stoicism that so many men hold up as their mask.
  • Doing something “taboo,” or “forbidden,” is exciting
    • Regardless of how old you are, there’s nothing quite like doing something “naughty” to make you feel like a couple of teenagers.  I still occasionally have that feeling, and I’m 32.  I wrote about one time in particular here on the blog.  You feel young, you feel energetic, you feel legitimately excited and enthusiastic.  It adds a new level of fun to your sex life.
  • He’ll become a better husband
    • This one is a bit harder to quantify, but it’s pretty damn consistent with everyone I’ve ever known, who has put their husband in chastity.  He starts thinking about you more, and differently, than he did.  How this manifests depends on your husband and your relationship.  He may start leaving quick, romantic notes for you in the mornings before he goes to work.  He may start doing more little things around the house.  He may bring you flowers on a random Tuesday.  If you’re busy or sick, he may stop on his way home and pick up your favorite carry-out, so you don’t have to cook.  The level of thoughtfulness increases.  And all husbands want to be able to make their wives happy, but far fewer really understand how to do that.  I’d say his level of understanding regarding your needs and desires increases.  He’ll be more in tune with you, and more confident in his ability to make you happy.
  • You’ll become a better wife
    • Of course, we must remember that, even though you hold all the control, this is still a relationship.  He has needs and desires of his own, and it’s your responsibility to make sure he’s happy within the relationship.  But when he starts doing those things I mentioned before, when he feels more in tune with what you want and what you’re feeling, you won’t be able to help but reciprocate.  You’ll find yourself wanting to go the extra mile for him, and for your relationship.  And, because he’ll be much more open with you, you’ll have a much better understanding of how to do that.
  • It will improve your communication with each other
    • As I said, talking about sex and fantasies is hard.  It’s awkward, and that level of communication doesn’t come naturally to us.  But by talking through it and working through the awkwardness, you’ll learn how to talk through other uncomfortable subjects, as well.

The most obvious thing at first will be the sex.  Pretty much all guys, when they think of sex, or any sexual activity, have their focus centered on their cocks.  Orgasm is the goal.

Of course, he wants to please you, as well, I’m not implying that he’s not a generous lover, but all of his sexual energy revolves around one place.  It’s the center of his focus.

Removing his ability to access that part of his body will not diminish his sexual energy, or his libido.  But it’ll change his focus. It’ll remove his penis from the equation, unless you specifically decide to add it.

With him in chastity, he’ll need your permission to orgasm, to touch himself, even to get hard.  And it’s likely that he’ll be extremely motivated to please you, however he can, so that you’ll give that permission.  It starts with a sort-of-selfish desire, but as time goes on, he’ll genuinely equate your sexual pleasure with his own.  He’ll genuinely want to please you, even if his penis remains locked up.

Sex won’t be just about his cock, anymore.  He may give you oral sex, or, if you want to be penetrated, but do not want to let him out of the cage, he could use a strap-on.  Sex will be about you.

Which may sound selfish, and this is something a lot of women struggle with.  It seems really selfish to make him give you oral, to satisfy you, but not get any satisfaction of his own.  It may be uncomfortable at first.

But the denial is part of the fetish.  He wants to be denied that pleasure.  It will be supremely frustrating for him, but there’s a switch that gets flipped in his mind, that turns his frustration into something positive.

I have trouble explaining exactly what that switch is, exactly what happens in his mind.  For that, you’ll definitely be better off reading things written by men in chastity.  They’ll be able to explain it better than I could.  But denying him physical pleasure is an integral part of this fetish.

But there are some cons to the fetish, as well, although most of them will affect the wearer, rather than the keyholder.

  • Discomfort
    • Wearing a cage is an adjustment.  He’ll likely be uncomfortable at first.  The cage prevents erection, and as it turns out, when a man’s body attempts to get hard, but is prevented from that by a chastity device, it causes pain.
  • Discretion
    • Most cages designed for long-term wear are created in a way that makes them impossible to detect under clothing.  But even with that, there are certain situations that might be complicated by the cage (urinals in public bathrooms, for example).
  • Hygiene
    • Maintaining hygiene with the cage can be tedious and time-consuming.  This is something you’ll definitely want to keep in mind when choosing a cage, and definitely look through blogs written by men in chastity, to find the pros and cons of specific kinds of cages.  Some are much easier to deal with, hygiene-wise, than others.
  • The way you relate to each other will change
    • Make no mistake, this will change your relationship pretty drastically.  While, in my personal opinion, the changes are all positive, change can still be frightening and uncomfortable.

So I mean, it’s something that requires some thought before just jumping in.

Still, it could be a lot of fun.  Which brings us back to the original question: What the hell do you do?  Is this even something you want to do?

My advice?  Try it out before making any decisions.

The first thing you need to do is buy a chastity cage.  It’s pretty likely your husband may already have one in mind (he may even already own one).  But get it.

And start with just a day.  Make it a day when both of you are free.  No kids, no work, no pressing errands, nothing to do.  Lock the cage on him as soon as you get up in the morning, and tell him that you won’t take the cage off until that night.

Then, just make a game of it.  You could wear your favorite lingerie and strut around the house, teasing him.  You could make him give you oral repeatedly throughout the day.  You could make him give you a massage, or cuddle together on the couch and watch TV, or anything you want.  It’s supposed to be fun.

And at the end of the day, after you’ve had a few good orgasms, you can unlock him and have some mind-blowing sex.

Try that once or twice.  If you like it, try keeping the cage on for longer.  Make him wear it for a full weekend.  Or a week.  And be assertive.  Hold him to the time you agreed on, even if he wants to take it off halfway through (which is entirely possible in the beginning).  Be his boss, embrace the position of power that he wants you to take.

Part of the denial aspect of this fetish is genuinely wanting to be let out, wanting to orgasm, and being legitimately denied that ability.  So don’t be afraid to tell him no if he wants out.  Have fun with that, too.

It’ll likely be very empowering for you, and it’ll bring the two of you closer together.  Even if you’re nervous at first, I definitely recommend giving it a try.

And, as promised, here are some links to blogs written by men in chastity.  They’re all very well-written and informative, and should be able to provide more insight to daily life with a chaste husband.

Denying Thumper

Steeled Snake

Thrill of the Chaste

The Chaste Cyclist

Male Chastity Journal