Revisiting Chastity

I received an interesting comment on my chastity post. There’s a lot wrong with the guy’s mindset to begin with, but he was polite and respectful in his questions, and he’s not the first guy to ask these specific questions, so I decided to answer them in a post of their own.

His comment will be heavily edited because a) it’s long, and we all know not-rambling isn’t one of my strengths, and I’m trying to condense things a bit, and b) he asks a lot of questions about someone else’s relationship, which I am not going to answer because I’m not in that relationship.

But here’s the thing with relationships that you read about online

Assume it’s all 100% bullshit.

I don’t outright lie about my relationships, because this blog is as much for me as for my readers, and also because part of my motivations for the blog are education. Educating people about the ins and outs of a Femdom relationship doesn’t work if I’m not honest about the relationship.

But I’m writing a story for strangers. I’m also protecting the identities of myself, my boys, and my family. I’ve added details that are untrue. I might reference a hair color or eye color or a tattoo that doesn’t exist. I might say something happened this week, when it happened a month ago. I might focus on certain details and gloss over others.

In other words, no one who reads this blog gets a 100% accurate picture of my relationships, even with me being committed to being truthful. Because my commitments to my boys and my daughter take priority.

Rape and murder threats are a common occurrence. You think the vermin who threaten and stalk me show restraint when it comes to extending those same threats to my 9-year-old daughter?

Hell no. This is the internet and people are crazy.

I will lie out my ass without regret.

But even without that, you’re only getting my side of things. And you’re getting the summation of the fun and exciting things that happen.

You’re not necessarily getting the hours of discussion and negotiation and talks about boundaries and limitations before the fun and exciting things happen.

The descriptions you read online are the fantasy. They’re not reality. So you have to take them with a big grain of salt.

Just because a woman comes online and describes her relationship doesn’t mean that she’s telling the whole truth. She may embellish things or change things, just like I do. She may leave out the negotiation and discussion, just like I do.

Do you have any idea how many giant wall-o-text descriptions of relationships I get in a week? It’s all fantasy. It’s not real.

Stop assuming it’s real.

So.

Let’s get in to this comment.

Someone also said chastity makes men respect women. And if a woman wears a thong, he knows not to objectify.

Respectfully if a woman wears a thong, I’m going to look at her ass. She wants me to. I’m not going to stare, or catcall, start to masturbate, or any of that nonsense.

I mean…

Mkay first of all, generalizing to this extent is problematic.

Yes, someone may have said chastity makes men respect women. I’ve heard that before, some people do say that.

Some people also say the planet is like 10,000 years old and humanity got its literal start as it’s described in the Bible.

Someone saying something doesn’t make it true.

Chastity does have an effect on a man’s mindset, especially over time

But it doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t create respect in a man who doesn’t respect women.

You can’t coerce respect out of someone. It’s one of those things that must be freely given.

Also, if I wear a thong, it’s because I want you to look at my ass?

Oh, sweetheart. That’s adorable.

Are there some women who wear revealing clothing so that men will look at them?

I mean, I assume there must be. There are a few billion of us, after all.

I’ve never met one in person though.

Because I mean, you do realize we still exist even when you’re not around, right? You think we all just stop caring about how we look when we’re only surrounded by women?

You think we only want to look sexy for you?

No, precious. We don’t give a shit about what you think.

Many of us do it for ourselves.

You want to know why I put effort into my appearance? Why I like looking sexy? I’ll tell you.

It’s so that, when I’m out somewhere, I can catch a glimpse of my reflection in a window or mirror and think to myself, “… nice.

That’s it. End of list.

If others also think I look sexy, that’s cool. If my boys think I look good, that’s a bonus. I like looking good for them because I care about what they think.

Random stranger I’ve never met? I don’t give two shits about him. He’s like lawn furniture. I don’t even see him.

And as it happens, Kazander and Sounder have both repeatedly had to tell me how people around me react to me.

I don’t notice because I don’t care.

Now of course, I’m one woman and there are a few billion of us. Not all of us look sexy for ourselves.

But most women who dress up for others still aren’t doing it for you, except in a very few specific situations (for example, I dress a specific way when I go to sex clubs and swingers clubs).

They aren’t doing it for you. They’re doing it for other women.

I mean, guys. Obviously.

Y’all can’t tell the difference between cool red and warm red. Y’all think Angelina Jolie has a “natural” look.

If I want to look good for any given man taken at random, you know what I need?

I need a low-cut shirt and tight jeans. And I probably need to have taken a shower at some point in the past week.

I mean, that’s not a particularly high bar, you know? It doesn’t exactly take effort.

Now women, on the other hand, are harder to please.

I can wear a tight, low-cut dress and a random guy will think I’m hot.

A random woman might think the dress is too short. Too tight. She might think it’s cut in a way that doesn’t flatter my body. She might think it’s too revealing, that I’ve gone from “sexy” to “trashy.”

She might think my eyeshadow is uneven, or that the color of my lipstick doesn’t match my skintone. She might think my hair is too faded, or the style doesn’t match the rest of my outfit.

You don’t see any of that. You see a thong and think she’s wearing it for you.

She doesn’t give a shit about you. She gives a shit about other women. Not you.

And this is one of my pet peeves with men, one of those cultural annoyances that haven’t died off yet.

There’s this mindset that many men (not all, again, generalities are tough when you’re talking about billions of people) have this unconscious assumption that the women around you are there for you.

That we look good for you. That we’ve dressed a specific way for you.

And dump that bullshit now. You are nothing, and we don’t care about you until you give us a reason to care about you.

Don’t like it? How about you grow a pair and start standing up to other men and start policing yourselves. Stop drowning us in your hormones every time we step out of the house.

Stop throwing yourselves at my feet and maybe your approval will mean something to me.

Maybe, if I could enjoy a drink at a bar by myself, without some random dude rubbing up on me like his dick will pay my rent, I might care about how you think I look.

But they don’t give out awards for being the 8th guy today to tell me how hot I am. And at some point, goddammit, I’m allowed to be irritated at all the adoring gerbils gathered at my feet.

I mean, think about that for a second. Here’s a visualization exercise for you.

Picture Terry Crews. The Rock. Jason Mamoa. Someone huge and muscular.

Imagine literally never being able to go to a random, regular bar by yourself without a man that size checking out your ass, or hitting on you.

Even if he immediately backs off when you turn him down, that’s not a comfortable image, is it? If it happens multiple times every time you leave the house, how long would it take before you just stop caring about literally everyone like him?

I cannot go to a bar by myself unless I’m willing to deal with that.

I’ve had a guy hit on me at like 7am, when I was walking my dog wearing the frumpiest of sweat pants and an old stretched-out Tshirt.

No. Your opinion means nothing to me.

If a guy stops me on the street to compliment my jeans, it’s because I have a pulse and a warm, wet hole that he wants to stick his dick in.

If a woman stops me on the street to compliment my jeans, it’s because I’m looking damn good in them.

So fuck off, mkay. We don’t care about you. We don’t do jack shit for you. That entitlement is stupid and we want you to knock it off.

We clear? Still on the same page? Outstanding, next:

If a man needs chastity to “correct” some issue; not respecting women, masturbating, (perfectly healthy, by the way) or cheating, then this is a huge red flag not to do it. Chastity is a kink, nothing more.

You’re right. Chastity probably shouldn’t be used to fix anything (I hesitate to use absolutes here because, once again, generalities, billions of people, etc. Keep that in mind for every statement I make in this post, so I don’t have to keep writing it out).

There’s something here that caught my eye, though. You said chastity is a kink, nothing more.

Which may be true. For you.

It’s not true for me. For me, it’s a lifestyle. It doesn’t end when sex ends. Its nature isn’t exclusively sexual.

I am not you. I exist as a complete and whole human being, outside of your perception of the world.

My boys exist as whole and complete human beings, outside of your perception. They do not exist as reflections of you.

Presenting personal conclusions as universal truth is problematic.

But also, why did you feel you had to go out of your way to assert that masturbating is healthy?

That’s one of those flagged statements. There’s definitely some entitlement there.

Which, normally, is a great thing. If you haven’t agreed to give up that autonomy, you should feel entitled to do what you want with your body, when and how you want to do it (within reason, you can’t go out and start vigorously masturbating in the middle of Target).

But men interested in chastity have agreed to give up that autonomy. They are no longer entitled to do what they want, when they want. They’ve chosen to give that up.

If you don’t want to give up that autonomy, then don’t. Simple as that.

Also, If you insist on constant oral servitude, worship, obedience to your will, but give him nothing but frustration in return, isn’t this very unfair?

Yep. Welcome to Femdom. Moving on.

Won’t this take a normal man, or at least a stable functioning partner, and make him a slave, weakling, wimp, sissy, etc. – what I mean is less of a man. If you destroy his manhood, than when you want or need the “Man”, to work, to make love, to defend you, If there are times when some semblance of confidence or spine is needed, the “Man” won’t be there anymore.

Well, I mean, of course. We all know that working, defending, having a spine, and being a stable functioning partner are attributes exclusive to men, and what’s more, exclusive to a specific kind of Man™.

We also know that Manhood™ is defined as a narrow set of traits and behaviors and methods of expression, and if a Man™ possesses even one trait or behavior or desire that falls outside of that set, then the entirety of his Manhood™ is completely invalidated.

It’s because masculinity is fragile, and brittle, and external, you see.

Easily broken. Easily taken away.

It’s a finite, shared resource, that must be hoarded, jealously guarded, and protected. Because it’s shared, the mere existence of a slave, weakling, wimp, sissy, etc. threatens the masculinity of all men.

I mean, dude. Do you have any idea how stupid you sound? I’m asking honestly.

Manhood isn’t a concrete, finite thing, mkay. And y’all’s continued insistence that your masculinity is weak enough to be shattered by literally anything outside of your narrow definition makes you look like idiots.

So, because I’m in a good mood, I’ll help you out.

First, broaden your definition of manhood, because dear god, dude. You must know how utterly pathetic the current definition is.

I mean, a man isn’t a Real Man™ if he exhibits all the traits and behaviors you deem acceptable, but also happens to like fruity cocktails?

He’s not a Real Man™ if he is assertive, dominant, protective, and a natural provider, but also happens to like being pegged?

Well what if a man is driven, ambitious, a good provider, a great lover, and protective of his family, but isn’t very confident?

What if a man seems really aggressive and confident, but hits his wife and kids?

What if a man loves being a father and chooses not to take a big promotion because it would require long hours, and he’d rather go to his daughter’s ballet recital and watch his son’s baseball game? Is he not a Real Man™ if he doesn’t financially support his family?

I mean, want me to keep going? The existence of one thing that doesn’t fit your definition is enough to invalidate his entire identity?

Why fight to remove our chains, when we can simply compare their lengths? Why step outside the box when the box has these badass flame decals on it? We men are cigarettes; dangerous, and poisonous, and stupid.

Guante

You see that as a sign of strength?

My god, dude.

And you wonder why women don’t give a shit about you. You wonder why we literally laugh at you when you’re not around.

It’s pathetic. It’s not worthy of my respect.

And as far as making love, what? You think I want a cookie-cutter clone whose idea of “switching things up” is reverse cowgirl?

Sure, I’ll use those guys when I want that particular itch scratched, but I don’t give a shit about them. I don’t want to know anything about them. I don’t even want to know their names.

I don’t care. He’s a dildo with a pulse. I bend over and take my pleasure while he does his little-engine-that-could thing back there, and then I want him to leave.

Why?

Because it’s boring. He is boring.

I can go to any club or bar and find ten guys exactly like him. Unoriginal, interchangeable, and ultimately disposable.

There’s not a single thing he can offer me that I can’t get from a battery.

Now, take Sounder, for example.

True, he can’t bend me over and do his own little-engine-that-could thing. But holy hell, why would I want him to?

I mean, I can make a text message conversation intense enough to fluster him at work. I can change his entire headspace with a handful of sentences. I can see parts of him that no one else has ever seen.

I push him hard, and he trusts me with his body, his mind, his safety, his very identity. He chooses to follow me down paths I never thought I’d be able to explore, and he can let go and enjoy the ride because he trusts that I’ll keep him safe.

And my trust, my faith in him, is absolute. He could tell me the sky is green and I’d believe him.

And the same goes for Kazander.

Kazander is a devoted father and a loving husband. We don’t lie to each other, we have no secrets, and there is nothing we cannot talk about.

We’ve been through good times and hard times. We’ve made mistakes, we’ve hurt each other, we’ve healed each other, and we’re still here. There’s nothing I don’t know about him. There’s no part of him I haven’t seen.

That kind of intimacy, that kind of trust, means something.

Why would I want some grunting caveman when I can have Sounder tied up and trembling, his body open and vulnerable for me?

Why would I want some dudebro’s mediocre spastic thrusting when I can bring Kazander to his knees with nothing but a look, and make him beg me to hurt him?

You can’t get that from a battery.

Now, do Kazander and Sounder fit your definition of a “Real Man?”

No, they don’t.

But I have a sneaking suspicion I don’t fit your definition of a “real woman,” so it makes sense that I wouldn’t be interested in your definition of a Real Man™.

Because Real Men™ are pitiful.

I feel sorry for them. They’re scared, and lonely, and hurting, and dangerous.

But confidence is hot, dude. A man who is confident enough to drink a fruity cocktail or admit that a puppy is cute or cry in public is a hell of a lot hotter than the children running around, too terrified of what Real Men™ might think of them.

A man who can unapologetically admit that he wants to be bent over and fucked like a bitch in heat is a hell of a lot hotter than the scared, repressed… thing… who pushes those desires down beneath a mountain of warped denial, self-hatred, and resentment.

Nah, dude. That kind of emotional constipation may have been okay for our mothers, but only because they didn’t have a choice.

Hell, look at my own parents. My dad was the posterchild for Real Men™.

And because I’ve been told I have the emotional range of a goldfish, we got along, but I never knew what he actually felt for me, and because of that, I got blindsided by a pretty nasty surprise after he died.

And that’s what fatherhood means to me. Emotional emptiness, blank stoicism, and lies.

I had tons of issues with my mom, but you wanna guess how many times she confided to me how lonely it was living with the emotional equivalent of a pet rock?

No emotional intimacy. No emotional vulnerability. It’s all skin-deep, nothing real, nothing true.

The only emotion I’d ever seen him show, in 30 years, was anger.

When my parents found out I wasn’t a virgin, he walked out. My mom said, “he can’t even look at you right now.”

I felt ashamed. Dirty. Like I’d lost value to him. Like I’d done something wrong.

Like I was now less, in his eyes.

My father. The first and primary example I was given of manhood.

But it’s totally exclusively my fault for having to untangle myself from my Daddy issues. Because being raised by an emotionally stunted, egotistical coward is just a totally normal thing. More than that, those lonely, terrified cowards are lauded by people like you.

You think that’s a good thing.

Ugh, no. No one wants to live like that.

But that’s not even all there is to it.

My mom didn’t agree with me being poly. She always had shit to say, until finally, I pointed something out when my daughter was a year or two old.

She kept insisting that the man must be in charge, because that’s “natural” and “right,” and monogamy was the only acceptable lifestyle.

“Mom, it just doesn’t work. Not for me.”

“It worked for me and your dad for 30 years.”

I laughed. “Wait, no, it didn’t. You know it didn’t.”

“We’re still together.” (They were both still alive at this point)

I looked at her. “So you’d want your granddaughter to have a marriage just like yours?”

Silence. And interestingly enough, she never had anything to say about my relationships again.

And I mean, she was far from the only one like her. And does that tell you anything?

My mom thought my dad was a Real Man™. But there was no one she loved more than my daughter, and what was her reaction to the idea of my daughter ending up with a Real Man™?

Even better, want to take a guess at my father-in-law’s reaction to the idea of my daughter dating a Real Man?

I even had to have a conversation with Kazander about how he is and is not allowed to react when the spawn loses her virginity. Wanna take a guess what reaction he has to hide when it comes to the idea of his daughter having sex with a Real Man?

I mean, does that tell you anything? You don’t even like Real Men. You don’t trust them. You don’t want them around. You see them as villains and thieves. You see them as a threat.

Why do you devote so much of yourselves to being something you hate?

We have never wanted that. You decided it was normal and women like my mom just didn’t know any better.

I do know better. And that expression of manhood is pathetic.

It’s small. And weak. And sad.

And lonely, not just for the women you inflict yourselves on, but for you, as well.

I can’t imagine what it must feel like to live so isolated, under all that fear. Feeling like you can’t be who you are for fear of someone thinking you’re less of a man.

No. That’s not what anyone wants.

Not even you.

Long-term chastity seems to make the woman inevitably more dominant and the man inevitably more submissive and pitiful. Is this what was wanted at the outset.

In relationships that employ long-term chastity, the woman is already the more dominant partner. Chastity doesn’t create that, it’s just another way to express it.

I won’t even enter into a relationship with a man unless he’s submissive. You think he’s pitiful, I think he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.

Different definitions, remember?

You get married with an expectation of happy equality and mutual love and reciprocity, right?

You get married with that expectation. Equality is not something anyone in a relationship with me expects. Happiness, mutual love, and reciprocity, yes. Equality, no.

I am in charge. If you don’t like it, don’t be in a relationship with me. Problem solved.

But if you enter into kink play that you imagine is safe, sane, consensual, and TEMPORARY and wind up being forced into chastity against hiw will isn’t this a breaking of the marriage contract? Is it ethical to do this to a man, even if you slowly indocrinate him into long term chastity? Shouldn’t he have a say, a safeword, a way out short of divorce?

Lying is wrong, regardless of whether you throw BDSM into the mix. Abuse is wrong regardless of whether chastity is involved.

Changing someone’s mindset or behavior is a slow, gradual process that must be discussed beforehand, and a way out, an ability to reverse the effects, must be available as long as possible. It’s also dependent on a willingness in the man.

You can’t just slap a cage on a reluctant man and expect him to willingly allow you to fuck with his head. It doesn’t really work like that. That’s fantasy, not reality.

And a Prince Albert? I hope that no woman would force it on a man, or even suggest it without a serious and honest discussion where the man has total say in the matter.

I mean, if it helps you sleep at night, go ahead and keep hoping that.

FLRs, woman as complete ruler, long tern chastity, forced feminization, cuckolding, they all strike me as cruel and very abusive unless the man really, really, likes it.

… unless the man really, really, likes it.

There you go. Congratulations, you just answered all your own questions. You took the scenic route, but you got there in the end.

I’ve never forced a man to be with me. I’ve never forced a man to do anything he didn’t want to do, outside of previously-agreed upon boundaries, and everyone I play with always has the right to tell me when something is wrong.

Every man who plays with me does it because he wants to. My boys are with me because they want to be with me. Because they really, really like what I do.

You may not like it, and that’s fine, you don’t have to. The world is big enough for us both.

But you’ve got a lot of crap you need to sort out in yourself before you can look at stuff like this with any hope of being able to grasp it.

Chastity and its effects are like calculus, while you’re operating under the assumption that 2+2=3. You’re missing a few pieces here. And you just won’t be able to understand a hefty chunk of any of this until you go back to the basics of interpersonal relationships and fix what you’ve got twisted up.

You’ve got to untangle yourself from all that crap before you can jump into something like chastity.

Kinky parents

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

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

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

M’kay, so first of all, *you’re.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because she’s six.

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

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

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

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

Comparing intensity and intimacy

May I have some clarification , please? In your post you mention this, “All I can say is that it creates a very unique sort of intimacy that vanilla relationships just don’t have.” in relation to Sounder and you. Are you suggesting that vanilla couple’s are incapable of having this intense level of intimacy or are you suggesting that what you and Sounder share is just different, not necessarily better? Sometimes I believe that those of us in this lifestyle make a mistake when we suggest that only we are capable of such intense intimacy or vulnerability. Thank you for your time.
Wayne

 

Absolutely, I’m happy to clarify.

No, I do not intend to imply that vanilla relationships are incapable of the same level of intimacy or vulnerability, or that all D/s relationships automatically have it.

What I mean is that we have a strange attitude with talking to our significant other about sex.  Husbands and wives are often downright terrified to confess their darkest fantasies or deepest secrets.  There’s a degree of separation in most vanilla relationships because that level of emotional intimacy doesn’t come naturally to us.

I’m not saying that it is any easier for those in D/s relationships.  I’ve discussed quite often my own struggles with emotional vulnerability, and how it’s usually just more comfortable to keep it turned off.

But the very foundation of most D/s relationships is built on communicating those fantasies and secrets.  All of that is laid out from Day One.  It’s a big part of what makes potential partners compatible in a D/s relationship, so they hash it all out early.

And once you’ve confessed your darkest secrets and most fucked up kinks, everything else is easy by comparison.

“Well hell, she already knows that I like being peed on while singing Taylor Swift songs, so talking about this regular fear/concern/thing that irritates me/literally whatever is no big deal.”

And it’s ongoing.  D/s relationships are intense af.  Take Sounder and me, for example.  Take the way I fuck with his head.

He’s going to have to text Kazander.  You can imagine how that fucks with his head.  You can read how it fucked with his head the first time I made him suck Kazander’s cock in his guest post, and you can read about his reactions to what I do to him on his blog.

It’s a pretty intense emotional roller coaster that just doesn’t happen in healthy, stable vanilla relationships.

And it’s important to keep things healthy here, too.  Because the emotions and the fear and the dread he experiences are real.  When I succeed in fucking with him to the point that his heart rate gets elevated to 120+ beats per minute, that’s real.  It’s my job to keep it on the right side of the line between “fun” stress and “bad” stress, and it’s my job to immediately back off if I cross that line.

So it’s just intense, you know?  What he feels is intense.  That doesn’t happen in vanilla relationships.

It’s also intense because, to let go and just allow himself to experience what I do to him, he places a massive amount of trust in me.  He opens himself up and exposes everything to me, and trusts me to hurt him, but not harm him.  The kind of trust required to allow someone to have that kind of power over you doesn’t come naturally to people.

The difference between vanilla relationships and D/s ones is that D/s relationships, by their very nature, require that trust and intimacy, while vanilla ones don’t.

Does that mean that people in vanilla relationships are incapable of it?  Not at all.  It just means that it is not required as a foundation for vanilla relationships, and therefore never really explored by most.

And for the record, no, I find it hard to believe that the average person in the average vanilla relationship experiences the same sort of intimacy that Sounder and I do.

He is taking birth control pills, m’kay.  He’s allowing me to feminize every part of him, physically as well as mentally.

Do y’all understand what that means?  No, I’m serious, do you truly understand the significance of that?

He is literally allowing me to change who he is.

He knows what I want to do to him, and he opens up his body and mind for me.  He allows me to change not just his underwear or masturbation habits, but his bed, his entire house, the way he identifies, the way he sees himself, the way he sees his body, everything.

Do you have any idea the amount of trust something like that requires?  The degree of intimacy and vulnerability?

I mean, I’m good, I’m damn good, but I’m not perfect.  I rely on him to tell me if I push too hard or take him down a path he’s not comfortable with.  With everything else that I’m doing to him, can you imagine the kind of vulnerability required to let me know when the fear I’m creating in him is too much?

I’m not gentle with him, and there aren’t many out there who can handle me.  He can, and he can match my intensity with his own.

I have a hard time believing that the average vanilla relationship can hold a candle to that.  But all of my D/s relationships have similar levels of intensity and intimacy.  It’s the very foundation of the relationship.  The very few vanilla relationships I’ve been in were drab by comparison.

But is it because vanilla relationships and those in them are incapable of that kind of vulnerability?  No.  It’s because there is nothing pushing people to have those conversations and those experiences.  So they need another reason to push themselves to do it.

Again, it’s not something that comes easily to us.  People in D/s relationships are more or less forced to have those conversations, while people in vanilla relationships need to find something else to push them to open up like that.

They’re just as capable of it as we are.  They just need to find the motivation to do it.

Jesse’s back!

So I don’t know if you guys know this, but there’s this adorably hot sissy I own.  Like, a million kinds of sexiness.

And for the past few months, he’s been dealing with some stuff that make typing about impossible.  So his blog hasn’t been active.  Which is fine, I told him not to worry about it.  It’s not like the blog is going anywhere.

And as it turns out, there are some really cool things he can post that don’t require a lot of typing.

Like sexy pictures that show off his sexiness.

Because I’m just a teensy bit of a fangirl of his sexy, slutty photos. Just a little bit.

And my darling slut is just so accommodating, sending me these amazing, hot, sexy, slutty pictures.  It’s my own personal sissy porn stash.

But you know, it’s selfish of me, keeping a bitch this hot all to myself.  The world should be able to see how unbelievably hot he is.  I should share him with the world.

So I very subtly suggested the possibility of posting them on his blog.  His very own sissy gallery, for the masses to appreciate.

And he, being the sweet, obedient whore that he is, quickly complied, posting three very hot sissy pictures on his blog.

I highly recommend checking them out.  You can find his blog, Sounds Like Jesse, in the sidebar (or down at the bottom if you’re reading this from a phone), or you can click here to see his newest post.

A year later

1 month, 27 days, 2 hours, 24 minutes, and 49 seconds.

Then my plane will land in Steel’s city.

There’s a lot about living so far away that sucks.  But by far the worst is when he crashes and I’m not there to help him get stable again.

Neither of us were big on long-distance relationships.  We knew it would be hard, and we knew most of them only last a few months.

But the chemistry was undeniable.  And I fell in love with him immediately.

As intense as the relationship got, and as fast, we both wondered at the red flags that should have been popping up, but weren’t.  Still, I decided to go with what I felt, with what felt natural, and told him to do the same.

We’ve had our differences (like the fact that he’s a Raiders fan, while I’m a Broncos fan.  But the Raiders may actually be moving to Vegas, so I promised I’d keep an open mind), and he’s much more practical and prone to overthinking, while I am much more laid-back and go-with-the-flow type.  In some ways, we are the exact opposite.  But it’s in a way that we complement each other, and it works beautifully.

A year later, that intensity hasn’t waned in the slightest.  And every time I see him, it just gets stronger.

I’ve fed his neediness, his greed, his clinginess, and his dependence, because that’s the way I want him.  He’s opened himself up to me to a level I’ve never experienced before, and it made it very easy for me to mold and condition him to be what I want.

While I don’t regret doing it (and am willing to bet he doesn’t regret it, either, and he’ll tell me if I’m wrong), the neediness and dependence that I’ve encouraged, that we both want, has made the distance even worse.

When that craving, that dependence, that neediness comes crashing down on him, he has trouble stabilizing himself again.  And if I were there with him, it would be too easy to interrupt that spiral and get him leveled out.

But I’m not, and it’s not.  All I can do is tell him that it’ll pass, that it’ll be alright.  And I hate knowing that he’s hurting, and I can’t help him.

Especially since it would be so easy to fix, if I was just there.

But he’s a big boy, and he’s a strong man, and he gets through it.  And I hold back a bit on the intensity, so he can hold on to his sanity.

It’s been a year that he’s been mine.  And I keep thinking back to the day I collared him.

I’ve never been one for big ceremonies.  There was none when I collared Kazander.  And with Steel, I’d told him I wanted to collar him months before we met and I could actually fasten it around his neck.

I ended up collaring him almost as soon as we were alone together.  Every time I looked at him, every time I saw the absence of the collar there, it just annoyed me.  He was mine.  I wanted him collared.

There was one thing he had asked for, though.  And the way he asked was so sweet, so shy, I was happy to oblige him.

He’d asked if he could write me a letter, that I would read while knelt at my feet on the day I collared him.

It’s a letter that I carry in my wallet with me, right next to his collar, that stays in a special zippered pocket in my purse when it’s not around his neck.

Ma’am,

I kneel at your feet stripped, vulnerable, and helpless.  Kneeling here while you read my intentions as an act of choice before you collar me.  Because this moment exists somewhere between before and after and only happens once.  Once is special.

I come to you fully owning my identity as a submissive, knowing that you will only take what is given freely and nothing more.  I come to aching to break, knowing you will only break what’s necessary in order for you to truly possess me.  I come to you prepared to worship, knowing you only accept such adoration as your due from those you own and protect, and secure in the knowledge you won’t build a shrine to your own ego.  I come to you fully understanding myself to be a slutty, craving, needy boy submitting to you as my Dominant; knowing you value these traits, I understand you will feed and enable them as long as I am not endangering myself.  I come to you wanting to serve, knowing you will hurt, use, break, and mold me – knowing you will care for me, guide me, and help me to be a better person – knowing you will feed weakness and greed even as you build strengths and discipline – knowing you will push me towards limits or hold me back as necessary –  knowing I am always safe under your gaze and under your thumb.

Once you collar me, I am yours.  Having surrendered and submitted to your will of my own volition, you possess the power to punish and reward as you see fit.  I submit to your experience, intellect, love, and compassion just as I submit to your sadism, depravity, and craving for control.  I submit to you with the knowledge you know and understand my hardest limits and confident you will ask for clarification should we approach anything that approximates unknown territory.  I submit – happily – knowing no magic words exist, which I can utter to force you to stop.  You will stop when you decide because you are the one in control.  Your possessing the final say is what I want and need.

I promise to work hard to be a good, sweet, and obedient boy.  I promise to work hard to learn how to serve you best and remain a valuable submissive.  I promise to strive to remain as open and vulnerable as you desire in order to give you access and control to whatever traits you wish to enhance, curb, or condition.  I promise to constantly make an effort to not take you or this relationship for granted.

As you read this note I have been thinking on what’s written here.  As you take in these words, I have been searing them into my consciousness.  I have been waiting a long time for you and find myself both thrilled and scared the wait is over.

I love you.

Your boy,
Steel

I’ve read it so many times, I pretty much have it memorized.  And he has made good on everything he’s promised in his letter.  His dedication has never faltered, he’s never forgotten his place, he’s never given me reason to be disappointed in him.  Whether we’re together or thousands of miles apart, he’s everything I want him to be.

And while I cherish and adore who he is as a submissive, it’s who he is as a man that I respect and admire.  He’s no stranger to pain, to tragedy, to loss, to regret.  All three of my boys have experienced more than their fair share of those, and all three have risen above it.

Steel knows who he is, he knows what he has to offer, and he knows his worth.  Along with that, he loves me, he loves submitting to me, and loves serving me.  I consider myself lucky to own him.

lishorek.soup.io

This is his favorite position to be in, and I can’t wait to have him curled up in my lap where he belongs.  1 month, 27 days, 1 hour, 4 minutes, and 18 seconds to go.

How to find a Domme

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

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

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

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

Dear Mistress/Goddess/Whatever

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

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

Random well-meaning sub

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In a few, I was proven very wrong.

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

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

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

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

Because you don’t go to munches.

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

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

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

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

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

And you all can just fuck right off with that.

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

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

Which makes us feel unwanted, and undesirable.

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

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

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

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

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

There’s just no reason for it.

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

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

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

Including Kazander, there was one.

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

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

Nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For sale?

So I received this particular gem about a month ago.

Jen.
Good evening. I’ve been an avid follower of your blog for some time. The dynamics you create with the men who serve you is something I find fascinating.
I am particularly intrigued by the path you’re leading Sounder down, and what you’re doing with him. That dynamic is fascinating, and I enjoy reading about it, and the things you do to him. I understand that he’s never been penetrated by a man. If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask your indulgence while I illustrate a fantasy I thought I’d never have the opportunity to fulfill.
I have always craved power and control over others. That craving, I’m sure, has had quite a lot to do with the level of success I’ve achieved in my life. But there’s something about sexual control that appeals to me on a completely different level. The idea of forcing someone to bend to my will is highly erotic. This idea has morphed over the years into a fantasy involving nonconsensual sex, of overpowering someone or rendering someone completely helpless and having my way with him. I am not homosexual, but for reasons beyond my understanding, this fantasy has always involved forcing myself on a man, rather than a woman.
You’ve said that Sounder has never been penetrated by a man, and is reluctant to make that happen. The post he wrote very clearly illustrates his general mindset, and the way his reluctance and fear drive you to lead him deeper. Being in a position of leadership myself, this is something I can appreciate. So there is something I’d like to propose to you.
I would like the opportunity to purchase his virginity from you, and use him to fulfill my fantasy. I will be staying in town for the rest of the week. There is a specific way I’ve envisioned this, but of course he is your sub and it’s open to negotiation.
I would like having him brought to my room, blindfolded, with his hands tied behind his back, fully clothed. I would like to forcefully remove his clothes, so he would need a second outfit to wear. And of course you’re welcome to be present through the whole thing. I know you value him and want to make sure your property isn’t harmed. To that extent, I also have recent medical records I am willing to show before I touch him, to prove that I am drug and disease free.
Once his clothes have been removed, I will proceed to penetrate him. You’ve said a couple times that he is very strong, so it’s unlikely I will be able to overpower him without him being bound. Hence the reason for having his hands tied behind his back. But that’s not to say I wouldn’t want him to struggle at all. A large part of what draws me to this fantasy is the aspect of penetrating a man against his will. Souder will be welcome to struggle just as he would if this wasn’t a controlled, planned event.
I don’t have much interest in his mouth. If you want him gagged that’s fine, although I would prefer him not to be gagged, and able to say whatever he wishes.
I  a businessman, and I of course would never expect something for nothing. I would be willing to pay you for the use of your sub, and for his virginity. I’m willing to pay $250 for it, up front of course. And after I’ve finished with him, I will leave the room for a time, to allow you to help him recover, and take your time in leaving. I’m unfamiliar with the protocols for aftercare, but understand that it’s important and should not be neglected, particularly after intense sessions like the one I’ve described.
Please respond at your convenience if this is something that interests you. I would like to thank you for your time and consideration, and wish you a pleasant evening.
Regards

The idea was an intriguing one, but I told him no and didn’t give it much thought.

Until yesterday, when it came up in conversation with Sounder.  I told him the gist of what this gentleman had been looking for.

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Well I think it would be fun…

Those of you who were clients of mine in Alabama can definitely understand why that price was so insulting.  I charged $200 for a session.  Just a regular, plain session.  Why would anyone think I’d give up something far more valuable for only fifty dollars more?

I told this man that I wouldn’t even consider something like that for so little, and that I was shocked at his nerve in suggesting it.  Sounder’s virginity for $250?  Are you kidding me?

That’s like asking to buy the Mona Lisa for a few thousand dollars (it’s worth almost 800 million, in case you were wondering… I kinda have a thing for da Vinci).  You’d be laughed out of the country for suggesting something so ridiculous.

And really, Sounder’s virginity is a valuable commodity.  He’s never been penetrated by a man, he doesn’t want to be penetrated by a man, but his desire to please and obey me overrides his reluctance.

I can see how that would give a man with a rape fantasy a unique opportunity to fulfill a fantasy he would not otherwise be able to fulfill.  Sounder is about as close to “unwilling” as you can get without crossing the line into actual nonconsensual sex.  It’s about as close to realism as you can get without breaking any laws or violating any moral code.

I get that.  As a lover of consensual nonconsent, I adore situations where a boy is forced to do things he doesn’t want to do.  I have my own rape fantasies, and my favorite porn videos involve (believable) roleplay rape scenarios.

So I get it.  I understand the appeal.  And, for this gentleman, I can even tell him why he wants to force himself on a man, rather than a woman.

It has nothing to do with your sexuality.  It’s a dominance thing.  It’s an alpha-male thing.  Especially for someone who craves control and power, what more effective display of power is there?

Gay, straight, or in between, it doesn’t matter.  The attraction to this kind of fantasy has nothing to do with sexuality.  It has to do with dominating another man.  It’s the ultimate display of dominance.

I’ve known a couple of straight or straight-ish Doms who owned male slaves.  When I first met a man like that, I didn’t understand it at all.  Why would he own someone he’s not sexually attracted to?  Why, if he’s not gay or bi, would he choose to own men, rather than women?

He explained the dominance, and the way he views D/s.  For him, he would never dream of Dominating a woman.  In fact, he was married to a Domme, and while he was in no way her sub, she more or less ran things.

For him, it was an alpha-male thing.  He explained that there was no greater feeling in the world than forcing himself inside a reluctant man, making that man accept him.  He was brutal with his subs, and regularly fucked them raw, ruthlessly held them and just pounded his cock into their mouths, he often went ass to mouth, he completely and utterly violated them and degraded them.

It was fucking awesome.  And it made me extremely jealous that I don’t have a penis.  Even now, imagining Sounder being brutally violated that way by a man makes me jealous I don’t have one, and can’t do it myself.

Oh, but don’t get me wrong.  Watching him being used like that by another man will be indescribably hot.

So I get it.  I know that attraction, I can relate to that attraction.  I can understand the appeal of a man like Sounder and the unique opportunity he represents.

But $250?  For Sounder’s virginity?  Hell fucking no.

He has never had a man inside him.  Ever.  In his life.

The very first moment that a man pushes the tip of his cock into Sounder’s hole, that will be gone forever.  You’re only a virgin once.  Only one man on the planet is going to be able to take Sounder’s virginity.  And if I’m going to give it to a stranger, it damn sure won’t be for $250.

I have expensive tastes, ladies and gentlemen.  And I have a boy on the other side of the country who misses me.

There’s no way I would sell something as valuable as Sounder’s virginity for that little.  And it is valuable.  Once he loses it, it’s gone forever.  He will never again be able to say that he’s never been fucked by a man.  For the rest of his life.

But I do know that just because something is valuable doesn’t mean that it’s in high demand.  So I’m curious to know what the demand for a reluctant man’s virginity is.  Is that something many men would want?  Is it something they would pay for?

It’s definitely interesting to think about.  Very intriguing.