Obedience revisited

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

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

… Um, what?

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

Is this actually a thing?

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

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

Sounder expressed similar sentiments when I told him about it.


One of the many reasons I adore him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he’s going to do it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Easy enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he can let go and simply enjoy the ride.

Topping from the bottom

I realize that topping from the bottom is frowned upon. But why? I know everyone is different. But ultimately the goal  is the sub has to get what he wants. Yes I know that the domina is in charge and is responsible but is the sub always supposed to be silent about what’s happening?  I would think some subs get off just on being submissive,, but I think most like certain things.  Is this one of those bdsm philosophy things,. Or is it something  else?

Alright, so those not familiar with BDSM and D/s relationship dynamics may not know what “Topping from the bottom” is, or why it’s one of the biggest relationship killers out there.

But before I get into that, there is a slight issue with semantics.  Because there are occasionally specific situations in which something is discussed and agreed upon beforehand.  This is usually called “bottoming from the Top,” but different people say different things.

Generally speaking, “Topping from the bottom” is when a sub uses manipulative, deceitful, or passive aggressive methods to get what he wants.

Why is that bad?

Well let’s use a vanilla equivalent.  You’re married.  Your wife makes dinner every night. It’s something she likes to do, and with your work schedules, it makes sense, so she does it.

But she makes pork every night.  Without fail.  And you actually don’t like pork very much.  The first week or so, you just dealt with it because it’s what she wanted.  But as time goes on, it’s becoming a problem.

You have three options:

1.  Stay silent forever, while resentment slowly builds and turns to anger, and before long, you despise her and hate your life.

2.  Say, “I love your cooking, but I’m actually not a huge fan of pork.  Could we try chicken at some point this week?  Or maybe steak?  Whichever you’d prefer, really.  I’d be happy to help if you’re not sure how to make it.”

3.  Say, “Great.  Pork again.  What a surprise, since that’s apparently all you know how to cook.  And since it apparently never occurred to you to ask what I want.  You know, ever.  How about branching out, huh?  Or does your culinary prowess not extend to birds or cows?”

I’ll just come out and say it; Option 1 is unacceptable, and there’s not a whole hell of a lot out there that will piss me off more, or piss me off faster, than discovering my partner has had an ongoing issue they chose not to tell me about.  So we’re just going to throw that one out.

Technically, both 2 and 3 will solve the pork-every-night problem.  One solves the problem in a constructive, mature way, and the other is selfish, disrespectful, demeaning, makes your partner angry and defensive, and causes a great deal more problems down the line.

Topping from the bottom is Option 3.  It’s a childish, selfish, immature way to handle any given situation.

But there is this comment, which caught my eye.

But ultimately the goal is the sub has to get what he wants.

Absolutely not.  At all.

This is a mindset surprisingly common among male submissives (I have yet to meet a female sub with this mindset) and now seems as good a time as any to set the record straight.

No, the ultimate goal of a Femdom is not to have the sub’s wants and desires met.  Not even a little bit.

I’m serious.  That cannot be even remotely a priority in his mind.  At-fucking-all.

And I cannot stress this enough.  It’s something that is so hugely instrumental to the success of a Femdom relationship, and it’s something that a depressingly high number of submissive men just don’t get.

And this mindset kills relationships faster than anything else I’ve seen.  Even I can’t save a relationship from this mindset.

Now, I specifically look for it, and will not even enter into a relationship with a man who thinks this way.

Why?  Because when the sub’s focus is on his wants, his desires, his comfort, his happiness, then his focus cannot be on his Dominant.  What’s more, it stains and tarnishes everything he does.

Because every effort he makes to serve her is with the expectation of, and entitlement to, a reward.  His kinks and desires are forefront in his mind, and pleasing his Domme is merely a means to an end.

It’s a selfish kind of service, contingent upon what he wants, his moods, his libido.  It’s done at his convenience, on his time.

No.  God, no.

His focus cannot be on himself.  At all.  That’s not the way a D/s relationship works.

Now, does that mean he must stay silent?  Of course not.  In fact, I expect my subs to speak up, and am annoyed and irritated (if not flat-out angry) if they don’t.

Subs are people.  They have wants and desires.  They have their kinks, they have their likes and dislikes.  A responsible Domme knows what her subs like, what they want, and makes sure they are fulfilled.  It’s a relationship.  It’s give-and-take.  She can’t neglect her subs.

But she’s human.  She’s going to fuck up.  When she does, it’s the sub’s responsibility to tell her.  And it’s the sub’s responsibility to be tactful, polite, and constructive when he does.  Whether she’s neglecting a kink he loves, or focusing on something he hates, or an act causes an unexpectedly strong reaction, anything.  It’s his job to tell her.

Of course, if he tells her, and she doesn’t adjust, then that’s on her, not him.  That’s not something he can control, and it may be time to consider leaving the relationship if his needs aren’t being met.

But his job is to serve her.  Period.  End of story.  That must be his goal for any relationship with me (I obviously can’t speak for every Domme, but for the life of me, I can’t think of a single 24/7 dynamic where that would work), if it’s going to last.

It goes back to my favorite quote:

A sub sacrifices control for freedom, and a Dominant sacrifices freedom for control.

The whole point of a Femdom relationship is that he serves her, putting her needs unequivocally above his own, trusting that she’s going to take care of him.  That’s why it’s so important that the Domme be held to high standards, and that she be in complete control of herself, because if he’s not focusing on his needs, and she’s not focusing on his needs, there’s a problem.

And he puts the ability to meet his needs and his wants in her hands, understanding that sometimes, she’ll meet every desire, and sometimes, she’ll withhold it all.  Accommodating his desires is completely at her discretion, and she is under no obligation to tell him if/when/how she will accommodate his desires.  And should she decide to withhold them, she is under no obligation to tell him why, for how long, or what she’s working toward.

Should he start getting concerned, of course he’s welcome to discuss it with her in a constructive and polite manner, rather than topping from the bottom, and then it will be her responsibility to reassure him, comfort him, and remind him that she will take care of him.  But even then, she’s under no obligation to tell him anything about what she’s thinking.  Because that’s not the point.

He’s supposed to trust her even when he doesn’t understand why.  He’s supposed to serve her with the understanding that she could spend an entire weekend accommodating his every desire or fantasy if she wants to, or she could lock him in a dog kennel and leave him there the entire weekend, completely ignoring him.  It’s completely up to her.  Responsible Dommes understand that there needs to be a balance, and that every relationship is give-and-take, but that’s her job, that’s her focus. Not his.

That’s the ultimate goal in a Femdom relationship.  For the sub to serve the Domme, meet her needs, put her wants and desires about his own.

Because a well-served Dominant is happy Dominant, and a happy Dominant is an attentive Dominant.

Lunch date with “friends.”

Do you have any of those friends that you used to be so fucking tight with, and you just adored, but then as you got older, you drifted apart to the point that you really don’t have anything in common anymore, and you can’t even really stand each other’s company, but you remain friends anyway?

You know, the kind you go without seeing for months and months, and then you start to miss them, and all the cool shit you did back in the day, and their many, many, many faults start to seem smaller in the unique rosy light of nostalgia, and you think to yourself, “God, I miss them.  Why don’t we hang out anymore?” so you arrange a hangout, and ten minutes into the hangout, you think to yourself, “Oh yeah, this is why we don’t fucking hang out anymore.  Because they’re fucking idiots.  Why can I never remember what colossal idiots they are?”

Yeah, that happened today, at a lunch date with two friends, who I’ll call, for reasons that will become apparent, Feminazi and Christian.

But first, some info on my attitude towards monogamy, and idiots in general.

I’m not a fan of monogamy.  The majority of people in my life, even the muggles, are aware of my attitude toward monogamy, and toward its most vocal supporters.

It’s like with veganism.  I don’t have a problem with veganism.  I don’t have a problem with many vegans.  Not my thing, but it’s cool.  People like it, let them do whatever makes them happy.

What I have a problem with are idiots.  Like the idiots who try to feed their pets (carnivores, such as dogs and cats) a vegan diet.  The idiots who take every opportunity to tell you how awesome it is being vegan.  The idiots who loudly judge you for eating meat. You know the type.

Those idiots are not exclusive to veganism.  They exist in every area, and monogamy is no different.

If, when you find out I’m poly, your response is to scoff and say, “Well your relationships just won’t last,” I want you to know I think you’re an idiot.  Like, a big one.

Interestingly enough, now that I think about it, the vast majority of the people who have said this to me were single at the time.  But what I really love is when people who are divorced say it to me.  Especially the friend who said it to me today.

The friend who, as it happens, is literally on Husband Number 4.

“Oh wow, really?  You’re obviously the world’s foremost expert on how to make relationships work.  Please, tell me more about how you made your marriage(s) work.”

It’s fun when I get to let my inner spiteful, petty bitch out to play.  And if you get on my nerves enough, I let the petty bitch loose and just sit back and enjoy the show.

I’m not afraid to burn bridges, y’all.  And actually, I burned one pretty spectacularly here recently with Red.  And it was satisfying as fuck, let me tell you.  After months of him toeing that line between loveable asshole and straight-up asshole, he finally pushed me past my breaking point.

I fight dirty when you push me past my breaking point, and I hit him with every low blow I could think of (and I’m a very creative individual.  There’s not a lot I don’t think of).

I’m serious, I doused the fucking thing with rocket fuel and took a flamethrower to it.  It was an explosion that would’ve made Michael Bay jealous as fuck.  No one can make shit blow up the way I can (figuratively, anyway).

Push me, motherfucker.  See what happens when I lose my temper.  I dare you.

I inherited my dad’s psychotic temper, with my mom’s ability to just tear people the fuck down.  Combine that with my emotional self control and the fact that I never say anything I don’t mean, and it’s one hell of a combustible combination.  When I decide to burn a bridge, it’s not a decision I’ve come to lightly, so I don’t regret it, and I will make the biggest explosion I can.

I will fuck a motherfucker up.

Red underestimated my ability to do that.  And he really shouldn’t have, he knows that now.  I know way too much about him.  I know what he takes pride in.  I know what his insecurities are.  I know what his fears and his dreams are.  All of that shit becomes a weapon that I use to make grown men cry.

Manipulating someone’s thoughts, feelings, and headspace is what I do.  And I’m very, very good at what I do.  Nothing is off limits once I decide to burn a bridge.  Nothing.

Needless to say, he doesn’t like me anymore.  Needless to say, I’m totally fine with him not liking me anymore.

But that’s not what this post is about.  This post is about relationships.  My relationships.

Because monogamy may work for you.  It works for a lot of people.  It doesn’t work for me.  And take my current and previous relationships as an example.  My first marriage, which was monogamous, ended in divorce (granted, monogamy wasn’t what ended it.  But it sure as hell didn’t help).

My second marriage, which is poly, has already lasted longer than my first.  Hell, my relationships with both Steel and Sounder have already lasted longer than my first marriage.  It works.  Despite all the people telling me it won’t, despite all the people wanting me to fail, because if I succeed, then somehow that means that their way isn’t the only way, and it actually is possible to have healthy, happy, stable relationships that don’t conform to the societally accepted norm.

Now, I understand my privilege is showing, and all of my gay readers are probably rolling their eyes.  They’ve only been dealing with the same thing since…. Oh I dunno, how long ago was the Bible written?  Somewhere around there.  I’m probably not going to be beaten to death in a back alley for having poly relationships.  Judge-y looks and snide comments by bored soccer moms and lonely single people are about all I’m going to get.

And I don’t know if any of you are aware of this, but I’m just a teensy bit on the argumentative side.  Go ahead.  Try me.  Say your snide comments and open that door right up.

What’s really hilarious is that the kinda-sorta-friend of mine, recently a born-again Christian, and I had lunch with another friend, a psycho-liberal feminazi.

Of course Christian is as annoying and idiotic as you’d expect the average born-again Christian to be.  There’s really no surprise there.  Two-dimensional and flat, there’s really not much to her personality anymore.  She used to be entertaining as fuck to be around.  Now, she just judgmental and preachy.  Add to this the fact that I’m Catholic, and it’s like a requirement for all non-Catholic Christians to hate Catholics (I think it says so somewhere in their Bible.  Because theirs is different from ours.  Quick, someone ask a born-again Christian why the Catholic Bible is different.  The hipocrisy is strong with the padawan), and the conversation gets annoying fast.

But she’s easy enough to deal with on her own.  Mostly because she actually knows very little about Christianity, and the history of Christianity, and why we do what we do, and why we believe what we believe, and she’s never actually read the entire Bible (Catholic or otherwise), and I mean really, she just makes it too easy.  Not even worth rambling about, really.

Now, the feminazi is a bit different, mostly because she’s a walking encyclopedia for male-on-female crimes.  Do you want to know how many women were raped in Chicago in June 2014?  She fucking knows that shit.  Want to know how many CEOs were women in New York in 2015?  She fucking knows that shit.  Want to know how many action movies pass that… whatever that test is, that is supposed to show whether a movie is sexist or not, I absolutely refuse to look up the name of it?  Yeah, she knows that shit.

Oh, and quick rant about that damn test.  Action movies are generally geared towards men, and are marketed towards men, for literally one reason, and it’s not to be sexist.  That reason is because a business owner, looking to make a profit on an action movie, will fail if they market it exclusively to women.  I’m a feminist, m’kay.  If I owned a movie studio that was going to make an action movie, and I looked at the data objectively, I would have to accept the fact that women are not my target audience, and I have a goddamn business to run.

I know that people don’t watch movies for social commentary, unless that’s the point of the goddamn movie.  They watch to be entertained.  Shallow, attractive characters are entertaining.

Women bitch about it all the time, and yes, they may be justified.  But you’re not going to change anything by bitching about it.  You’re going to change it with your goddamn wallet.  Show that with hard data.

We did it with a comedy, and the studio took notice.  It’s what they did/are doing with another movie that was geared toward women, and blew past expectations.  Maybe you heard of it, Trainwreck.  That one did great, because people, men and women, paid to see it.  Women loved it.  Women went to see it in the theater.  Women showed the business owners that yes, this is a good fucking idea, and they should give us more of it.

But when given the opportunity with an action movie, we were too busy bitching about Star Wars being sexist or some shit to care.

The new Ghostbusters flopped, for a number of reasons, but you want to know the biggest reason it flopped?  Because no one paid to go see it.  And because no one paid to go see it, they’re not doing the sequel(s), and no one is going to rush to do another movie like it.  Yeah, you can kiss the idea of an action movie with an all-female cast goodbye for a few fucking years, at the very least.  You blew it.

Even if it sucked for other reasons (which it did), if enough people had shown interest in an action movie with an all-female cast (and by people, I mean you, ladies), then the studio, which is a business with the goal of creating a marketable product and earning a profit off said product, would likely have taken a closer look at what mistakes were made and how to fix them, so that they would have a more marketable, more profitable product.

It doesn’t even matter what men think/thought of the movie.  Die-hard male fans of the original were going to be skeptical of a reboot with an all-female cast, anyway.  It wasn’t geared to them, because most of them just weren’t going to be interested.  It was geared to us.  And we proved that marketing action movies primarily to us doesn’t make good business sense.  The studio isn’t going to forget that 70 million dollar loss anytime soon.


Oh, but you want to know a movie that did so well, it not only spawned an originally-unplanned sequel, but a live national tour and a fucking Broadway musical?

Magic Mike.

Magic.  Fucking.  Mike.

But wait, that’s not sexist because it’s men who are naked and are attractive, shallow characters (and don’t tell me they’re not shallow.  After I found out they were planning a national tour, I decided to sit down and find out what all the fuss is about.  Yeah, all of them are two-dimensional, shallow characters lacking any real depth or complexity).

Yeah, I don’t want to hear you bitch about how Pick-a-Movie is “sexist.”  Your wallets speak louder than your words.  And yeah, your wallets have spoken.  Don’t like it?  Fucking change it.  Stop bitching about the movie industry being sexist and fucking change it.

When movies like The Ghostbusters start making more money than Magic Mike or Sex in the City, and the movie industry still caters action movies exclusively to men, then I’ll be willing to listen to a damn word you have to say about that stupid test.  Until then, I’m just not interested.

I don’t fucking care.

Feminazi is the reigning queen of bitching-about-shit-but-not-getting-off-her-ass-to-do-a-damn-thing-about-it.  Because then she’d have nothing to bitch about.  And then she’d starve, because bitching is her primary form of sustenance.

She’s always annoying when she gets on her feminazi, down-with-the-Patriarchy, all-men-are-sexist rants, and I’ve gotten pretty good at telling her to shut the fuck up (or just tuning her out), but since the election, she’s gotten just impossible to be around.

No you guys, I’m serious.  She spent half the time at lunch criticizing the waiter because he said, “Good afternoon, ladies.”

She said that calling us “ladies” was sexist.  I didn’t pay enough attention to her to figure out why.  I was too busy imagining what the waiter would look like naked, tied up, sprawled out across my lap with a red, well-paddled ass.

Again, normally, I tell her to shut up, or I tune her out.  But now that the other one is a super-conservative, born-again Christian, it’s actually entertaining getting the three of us together.

The two of them argue about everything.  And 99% of the time, it’s annoying as fuck.  Like, to the point that I really don’t understand why I keep agreeing to hang out with them.

But when they start talking about me, it’s wildly amusing.

Because here’s the thing.  I’m a Dominant, poly, bisexual woman.  I run all of my relationships, and I have relationships outside my marriage.  Feminazi loves this trait in me.  Christian hates it.  She says (and I’m not making this shit up) that I’m “desecrating the sanctity of marriage.”

Bitch is on her fourth goddamn marriage.  It’s great.

So anyway, Christian always inevitably brings up my relationships, usually with a snide sort of, “So, Jen.  How is your husband doing?  Have you spent much time with him lately?  You know, since he has to share you with so many other people?”

And she says this in front of my kid, which is hilarious because she thinks a) I keep the fact that I’m poly from my kid (which I don’t), and b) I won’t answer frankly and honestly in front of my kid (do you have any idea the shit my kid has heard?  This is nothing.  And besides, she’s always too busy playing on my phone to hear a damn word that’s being said.  Which is why I only let her play on my phone in certain situations.  It frees me up to say shit I couldn’t really say if she was paying attention).

Today, I replied with, “Actually yeah, I spent some time fucking him in the ass with a strapon last night.”

The look on her face was priceless.  The look on Feminazi’s face was priceless.

After this point, with these two idiots, I don’t have to say another word.  Feminazi just can’t resist “jumping to my rescue” and defending me to Christian.


The conversation always inevitably turns to the fact that I’m a stay-at-home mom.  Which Christian loves.  And Feminazi hates.

I’m serious, she always has something to say about it.  Like I’m single-handedly going to lose women the right to vote or some shit.  She and I have had tons of arguments about it, and she’s a very, very slow learner, but she eventually figured out that it’s a bad idea to start arguments with me, so she generally keeps her mouth shut about it.

Especially since her 7-year-old son is completely impossible to be around.  Like, you literally cannot take that little shit to a restaurant.  Or a doctor’s office.  Or anywhere in public.  He’s a fucking terror.  And whenever she can’t get a sitter, and gets stuck with him, she spends literally the entire time scolding him, and my kid and I just look at each other, and we’re both thinking, “Would you take a look at this little shithead, and his idiot mother?”

Okay, maybe those aren’t her exact thoughts, but judging by the things she’s said about him and Feminazi in the car on the way home, it’s pretty damn close, okay?  The kid is a fucking nightmare.

Unless, interestingly (and satisfyingly) enough, I babysit him.  He’s a fucking angel when he’s with me and his mother isn’t around.  I’m serious, I’ve actually videotaped him playing nicely and quietly with my kid, just to rub it in his mom’s face.

And she can’t understand why he’s such an asshole to her.

I’ve tried repeatedly to tell her that a big part of it is that she thinks he’s going to grow up to be a rapist, and kids pick up on that shit, and it kinda fucks with them hard.  And the other reason is she’s just a shitty parent.  She shoves him off on the cheapest, crappiest, most overcrowded daycare she could find, and then gives him no attention or structure when she gets home from work.  Because she’s too tired from her job.  The poor dear.

But no, that’s fine.  Her financial security is more important to her than her child’s mental and emotional well-being.  He’s going to end up in prison, or a sociopath, or, in the best-case scenario, with major, crippling intimacy issues, but she can afford to get her hair done as often as she wants.  Yay, go her.  She should be so proud.

So anyway, she gives me shit for staying home to raise and educate my daughter, I give her shit for actively destroying any chance her son will ever have at a normal adult life.  Give and take, you know?

And eventually she learned to just shut the fuck up.

Unless we’re with Christian, who can never resist bringing it up.  And once she does, Feminazi can never resist shitting on it.

But I don’t knock her down when Christian is around.  I don’t say a damn thing.  Because Christian will always jump to my defense, talking about how I’m doing “the Lord’s work” by raising my child.  And they’ll argue about it for awhile, with Christian passionately defending me and my family values.

Until the conversation turns back to me being poly, and having a number of successful poly relationships.  Then both their tunes change, and Christian starts attacking me for desecrating the sanctity of marriage and emasculating my husband (oh she has no fucking idea), while Feminazi passionately defends me for being a strong woman who breaks the bonds of traditional female roles.

And occasionally, if I’m bored (which I usually am, hanging around with such two-dimensional people), I’ll keep it interesting, if say they’re arguing about me being poly, and Feminazi looks like she’s winning the argument, by switching it back up and turning the conversation back to me being a stay-at-home mom.

It’s hilarious, it really is.  And at the end of the hangout, I still can’t figure out why I’m still friends with them, when I can’t stand either of them as human beings, and the only entertaining part of hanging out with them is pitting the two of them against each other (I never claimed I wasn’t a manipulative bitch, okay?) and watching them get more and more heated over someone else’s fucking life.

Like, come on, that’s just funny.  They just get so passionate about the decisions I make in my life, that in no way affect them.  It’s great.

Eventually, though, I’m going to remember why I don’t like hanging out with them, and hopefully I won’t repeat the same bullshit over again six months from now.  But I’m not always the quickest learner, so we’ll have to wait and see how that goes.  Maybe now that I’ve written a post about it, the next time I start thinking to myself, “Man, I miss Feminazi and Christian.  We used to have so much fun together.  Why don’t we hang out anymore?” I can look back to this post and think, “Oh yeah, that’s why.  Because I can’t stand the psycho bitches.”

Hopefully.  We’ll see.


A good, thorough fucking

So some of you who have taken a look at Sounder’s blog may have noticed a distinct lack of posts there.

Which may be interesting, since I told him I wanted 2 posts a week.  But there is actually a reason for the silence.  He’s got an issue that he needs to deal with, and until it’s dealt with, I told him not to worry about the blog.  It’s not like it’s going anywhere.

Until then, you’ll just have to be satisfied with my descriptions of the mean, awful things I do to him.

Like the other night, the first time I’d seen him since the issue began.  I knew I’d have to be gentle-ish with him, because reasons (yes, I’m being deliberately vague, and I’m gonna continue being deliberately vague).  But that didn’t mean I couldn’t fuck his brains out.

And he definitely needed some girl time.  As well as a good, long fucking.  It had been too long, and the bullshit this issue has presented, as well as just the regular work stress he deals with, had really knocked him out of that sissy headspace.

I needed to knock him back into it.  And I don’t have to beat him or be rough with him to make him feel like a woman.

I pulled up to his house and knocked on the door, and when he opened it, I saw that he was dressed and in full makeup.  Every time I see him dressed like that, I love it just a little bit more.

He’d gotten a new blouse, and a bra, and they looked amazing on him.  It was the first chance I’d gotten to see them on him in person.  Sure, he’d sent pictures, he always does (I have quite the personal porn stash, it’s so awesome), but while the pictures are great, they’re nothing compared to seeing him in person.

But even with how good he looked in the shirt and bra, it’s still his jeans that I love the most.  He has this pair of skinny jeans that just hug his ass in the sexiest way.  I can never resist reaching into them and groping him.

So a good portion of the first hour was spent doing that.  It had been too long since I’d been able to properly grope and violate him.

He didn’t like how long it had been any more than I did.  When I pushed a wet finger into him, he moaned and pushed back against me, impaling himself deeper on my hand.

He didn’t even hesitate when I asked him if he wanted to be fucked like a bitch.

The poor girl definitely needed a thorough fucking.

And who was I to deny him that?

I didn’t waste any more time, taking him to the bedroom and telling him to take everything but the bra off.

He was standing there, at the foot of the bed, and I came up behind him, lubing up a finger and pushing it back inside.  A moment later, I pushed a second one in, stretching him out.

He moaned and pushed back, fucking himself on my fingers, until he started having trouble keeping his balance and had to reach out to hold the wall for support.

I had him lie down on his back and slid on my strapon, kneeling between his legs and pushing them up to his chest.

I’ve been having him sleep plugged every night, but his plug is smaller than my strapon, and it had been awhile since he’d had anything that big inside him.

He gasped as I pushed it in, panting as I filled him up.

I only gave him a moment to get used to it before I started fucking him. I started out a bit slowly, but quickly sped up, fucking him hard and fast.

The way he loves being fucked.

It didn’t take long before he tensed, moaning with his first orgasm.  And then his second.  When I reached down and started stroking his cock, he came again almost immediately.

It was so cute how into it he got.  I mean, he always loves being fucked, and he always loves being fucked hard and fast, but you could just tell how hungry for it he was this time.

Even being on his back, with his legs in the air, he kept trying to push back against me, wanting it deeper.

I pounded my cock into him over and over again, and he came over and over again, until he was practically growling and screaming as the tension kept building over and over again, and he did everything he could to fuck himself harder on my cock.

I’d told him to count his orgasms for me, and after the tenth, I finally pulled out and gave him a break, before putting the slender prostate massager in and fucking him to another two orgasms, before his hole just got too raw for him to take any more.

We’ll definitely have to work on his stamina.  When I have him gangbanged, he’ll be fucked to quite a bit more than 12 orgasms.

After that, I let him calm down a bit, then spent some time choking him, teasing him, and hurting him.

At one point, he went to get water, and he looked pretty unsteady as he got to his feet.  When he came back, I asked if he was alright, and he assured me he was.

As he was literally swaying.

Part of that may have been because I’d spent so much time cutting off his air, and part of it may have been because his wig had gotten unbearably tight.

And then, of course, there were the 12 orgasms.  That may make someone have trouble standing upright.

When I finally let him up to get dressed, I told him to keep the bra on.  I love the way he looks with it on.  It’s like he was born to wear one.  And I loved reaching under it to fondle him while we sat on the couch.

So I don’t have to be rough with him to treat him like the wanton little bitch he is.  And while he’s recovering from said issue, I’m going to turn my focus to his pussy, and getting him ready for the spitroast and the gangbang that are in his future.

Intro to FemDom

Hey there!
After being in several bad relationships and loosing a lot of confidence in myself, I came across domination. I’m not looking just to get paid as a findom, but I want to do it for the power! I’ve had a experiment with a couple of subs I found online and loved it!
Do you have any tips on how to stand out from the others? Also what tasks and games would you recommend ?
How can I lure them in with conversation?
I would really appreciate your help, I’m a little In the dark on the hole subject and any advice would be very much appreciated!!
Many thanks

Welcome to the wonderful world of Femdom!  It’s a pretty fabulous thing, and I congratulate you on starting down this path.  That power is pretty damn addicting.

As far as standing out from the others, you’re actually in luck there.  If you’re not a Pro or a FinDom, you really have no competition.  I can tell you in two sentences how to get more attention from men than you know what to do with.

Step One: Create a Collarspace profile.

Step Two:  Wait literally 7 seconds.

Fetlife is good, too, but that’s more for social things, making other friends in the lifestyle, going to kink events and classes (more advice: go to classes.  I never pass up an opportunity to go to a class if I can swing it with my schedule, even if it’s on something I’m already very familiar with).  Munches are awesome things.  Go to them and make friends.  You may soon find yourself wishing you had lifestyle friends, since this isn’t a subject you can talk about in mixed company, and sometimes you just have to be able to call someone and tell them about the ah-may-zing session you just had where you pegged and bound a naked boy in a sex swing while he came over and over again, then beat him until he screamed.

But you’ll very soon find the flaw with Fetlife:  It’s very clique-y.  Collarspace doesn’t have the “community” feel that Fet does, so it doesn’t have that problem, and that’s where I’ve met a good 80% of the boys I’ve played with/owned, including 2 of my 3 current boys.

So I’m a fan of Collarspace as far as meeting people.  And again, the only thing you need to do to stand out is have a decent profile, a pic or two (doesn’t necessarily have to be of your face), and be a Dominant female.  That’s literally it.  Your inbox will be filled within minutes.

So you’ll actually have the opposite problem.  You’ll have to learn how to weed through all the online catcalls, look-at-my-dick brats, and men wanting to share their fantasies with you (literally, you will receive these horrendously long stories… like 1500 words and more… that these men have written out, and subsequently copied and pasted to every red name on the list).

You’ll also get what we affectionately (and I use that term extremely loosely) call cookie cutter messages.  Some poor, ignorant, well-meaning sub is going to write out a short note, very generic, usually pretty polite, and literally just copy and paste it to every Domme on the list.

Don’t worry, it’ll take you like 2 days to figure out which are cookie cutter messages and which are real.  Many women (myself included) will assign a task near the middle or bottom of the profile.  Something simple, like “If you message me, tell me what color your eyes are in the first sentence of your message.”  I’m a FinDomme, so my task is to write the word Tribute as the first word of their message.

That way, I know from the very first word whether they read the profile and are actually interested in me, or if they’re just copying and pasting the same message to 200 other women.

You can read all about my rant on these men and how they’re doing every goddamn thing wrong, and why I assume every new message is written by a douchebag here.

I actually called out one such douchebag 2 posts ago and created a flowchart to help people who may have some trouble figuring out what is an appropriate message to send me.

So really, they’re the ones who have to stand out.  Not you.  Your job is to weed through the replies, figure out which are real (and interesting) and reply to them.

And I’m kind of bitchy about the whole subject, but don’t get me wrong.  There are some fucking amazing submissive men out there, who will reach out to you.  Submissive men are just fucking amazing in general, and I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a huge fangirl of them, to the point that I won’t even consider a relationship with anyone who doesn’t identify on that end of the spectrum.

Since you’re just starting out, just starting to see the appeal, I recommend reading my page “Why Submissive Men.”  A common mistake I’ve seen from women who are newer to the lifestyle, particularly women who have been rather thoroughly fucked over before finding the lifestyle, is to not really take the time to appreciate the gift they’re being given.  It’s special, and it’s a gift that’s not always easy to give.  It’s important to never lose sight of that.

As far as luring them in, that’s not really something I can teach, and even if it was, I’m not sure I’d want to.  What’s going to lure them in is your energy, your charisma, your Dominant spirit, your confidence, and your general nature.

I will say that confidence is the single most important thing about being a Dominant, followed extremely closely by self-control.  You cannot be a Dominant and insecure.  I’ve seen insecure try to be Dominants, and it always ends in disaster, and can have some very bad, long-lasting effects on the submissive.  Literally, you can cause semi-permanent or permanent emotional and mental (and even physical) harm to another person.  Insecurity has no place in your mind.  It’s trash, and you need to throw it out.

You have to have confidence in yourself.  You have to know yourself.  You have to know your strengths, know your weaknesses, know what you’re good at and what you need to work on.  You have to be able to look at yourself objectively.  You have to be comfortable with who you are.

These are not suggestions.  They are requirements for being a Dominant.

The other thing is self control.  This is unbelievably important.  Why?  Well let me give you an example.

Let’s say you have a steady relationship with an awesome sub.  Things are going swimmingly.

Then, as every relationship eventually will, you’ll hit a snag.  You’ll argue.  Tempers may flare.

Your temper cannot flare.  You need to learn how to shut your emotions off.  If your submissive is having a problem, he may struggle with how to express it, and he may get angry.  Your job is to hear the underlying message he’s trying to convey, and not make the problem worse by feeding into his own strong emotions.

You will have an extreme amount of power, control, and influence over your submissives.  They will open themselves up to you, and show you a level of vulnerability that will make it all too easy for you to cause harm if you’re not in control of yourself.

If you lose your temper with a vanilla man, you may get into an argument.  If you lose your temper with some submissive men, you may find them in the fetal position on the floor.  That is the level of trust they’ll place in you.

So you’re not free to lose your temper.  You’re not free to doubt yourself.  I’ll tell you the same thing my mentor told me when I was first starting.

A submissive sacrifices control for freedom.  A Dominant sacrifices freedom for control.

You can’t have both.

Now is this something you’re expected to do now?  Not necessarily, it doesn’t happen overnight.  But you need to be aware of and work on those things all the time.

So you need to figure out what kind of Dominant you want to be.  What kind of relationship do you want?  What kind of submissive do you want?  This will likely evolve the deeper you go into the lifestyle, but it’s something you always need to be aware of.

You also need to figure out who you are as a person.  This is something you’re never done doing, and you always need to work on it.  Actively.

As far as tasks and games, now you’re getting into the fun stuff, and really, it’s only limited by your imagination (although Google has some pretty damn awesome ideas).  And it depends on what you want to do with your subs.  For example, I’m feminizing Sounder and turning him into a sissy.

So, for example, I’m taking him to the salon with me this weekend to get pedicures.  I’ve also taken him to get his makeup done by a professional specializing in male-to-female transformations.

I love pretty much anything having to do with humiliation.  And sometimes even basic things, like not allowing them to wear clothes or use the furniture, have a big impact on a boy’s headspace.  Supervised masturbation is always fun, and you can be creative with that, as well.  Make him edge for you once every hour or half hour for an entire afternoon, or make him fuck himself with a dildo (or suck on one) while he masturbates.  Make him spend an entire evening plugged or gagged or bound, or some combination of the three.

Writing assignments can be fun, too.  You can make him write humiliating affirmations X number of times a day (make him handwrite them, to ensure that he’s not using copy and paste).  It could be something simple, like, “I am a slut,” to as elaborate as you want, like, “I’m a cocksucking whore who needs to be kept in chastity, and fucked hard and often by real men.”  I mean, go nuts.  I’ve done this with Kazander, and you’d be surprised what a difference in can bring about.

It doesn’t have to be affirmations, though.  A trend I noticed in Steel* early on prompted me to make him write me an email every day, with 2 parts.  The first part was easy for him.  He had to tell me something he loved about me, and why.  The second part was harder.  He had to tell me something he loved about himself, and why.

I recently had Sounder start a blog of his own, to journal his thoughts.  I’m going to start pushing him a bit, in a slightly different way than I have so far, and the added insight into what’s going on in his mind is going to be a big help.

Fucking with guys after they cum can be fun, too.  Submissive men tend to feel the least submissive right after they cum.  So you can use that against them.  More than once, I’ve jerked a boy off and then immediately fucked him with a strapon, using his own cum as lube.

Or you can make him do housework in a really humiliating or inconvenient way.  Or dressed in humiliating clothes.  I’ve had Sounder clean out my car while dressed up in a French maid outfit.

Games are limited only by your imagination, too, and they can be as simple or as complex as you want.  You could use a die and assign something for each number.  Like if he rolls a 1, he gets fucked with a strapon.  If he rolls a 2, he gets 25 spankings.  If he rolls a 3, he has to sleep plugged.  And so on, and so on.  Put an orgasm as one of the values, and tell him he can only roll for a chance to cum after he’s given you X number of orgasms with his tongue.

Like 5.  For every 5 times he makes you cum, he can roll the die.  Or 10.  Or 20.

Or hell, it doesn’t even have to be sexual.  Maybe for every time he does your grocery shopping for you, he can roll the die.  Or every three loads of laundry he does for you.  Or every two times he cooks you dinner.  I mean, literally anything.

Or you can use a point system, assigning certain tasks a point value.  Making you orgasm may be worth 5 points, doing all your laundry may be worth 10, taking your car and filling it up with gas may be worth 3, a half-hour-long sensual massage may be worth 6, doing your taxes may be worth 15, I mean, whatever feels right to you.  And for every 25 points he can earn an opportunity to roll the die.  Or maybe every 50 points.  Whatever feels right to you.

But you can’t ever let him forget that the basis of the relationship revolves around him serving you, in whatever way you decide you want him to.  All three of my boys work to serve me, sexually, of course, but also in very different ways, catering to their own strengths.  Kazander serves me by working his ass off and supporting me so I can raise and educate our daughter properly.  He’s fucking brilliant with numbers and money, and he runs the finances so I don’t have to worry about it.

Steel serves me by being my sounding board and giving me an objective, tactfully-worded outside perspective to a problem, that I may not have been able to see before.  He’s also a writer, and his background makes him unique in that he’s one of the very few people on this planet with a better grasp on the English language than I have.  So in those rare times when I’m stumped on grammar/spelling/proper comma usage (which, being the grammar nazi that I am, I’m loathe to admit that there are times I’m not sure), he’s the one I turn to.  He also has knowledge in other areas that has helped me out tremendously in the past.

Sounder serves me by being my release, both in the bedroom and out.  When a situation arises that annoys me or irritates me, or even pisses me the fuck off, I can vent to him, I can bitch and whine and complain, and he offers that supportive ear that I need.  Then, once the bitch-fest is over, I can switch back to my normal, let’s-look-at-the-bright-side-shall-we, okay-so-how-do-we-solve-this-problem mentality.  And that goes for the bedroom, as well.  I push him hard, and it helps release any pent-up energy or restlessness that may be lurking around.

But the common denominator is that my needs come first.  Their job is to worry about me, not themselves.  I have the responsibility to make sure their needs are met (this is a relationship, after all.  Give and take), but how and when I do so are at my discretion and contingent upon their service.

*Okay, so another important thing is to learn about your submissives.  I cannot stress just how important this is.  You have to make it your goal to learn everything about them.  You have to watch them, to always be paying attention, to always be listening.  You have to learn how to read their facial expressions and body language as if they were speaking plain English to you.  You have to be able to pick up on subtle cues, changes in tone or word choice, anything.

Here’s a bit about how I do that, and why.  If you want to read the whole post, you can, but this is what relates to this situation.

But anyone can beat someone. Anyone can take a paddle or a crop or a cane or a flogger or insert-impact-toy-here and use it to hit someone else. Anyone can tie someone up and do mean things to them. There’s nothing special about that.

But a boy’s emotional and mental state? That’s where the real fun comes in. And that’s where the real power comes from. That’s what I love, and I use a variety of tools to get the reaction I want.

My goal with any boy is to learn as much about him as I can, as soon as I can.  From the very first message he sends, I look at his grammar, vocabulary, tone and mood of writing, I look at his approach, I look at how he addresses me.  I look at his profile, I look at how he describes himself, what he feels is important enough to include on it, how he sells himself to potential partners.  If he has pictures, I look at those.  You can learn a lot about a guy from the pictures he posts (or doesn’t post) on his profile.

When we meet in person, I’m still paying attention.  I’m looking at his posture, speech patterns, how he dresses, how he carries himself, how he interacts with bartenders/wait staff, I’m looking at his body language, I’m looking at what he does with his hands, I’m looking at whether or not he fidgets.  I’m looking at how he interacts with me in a vanilla conversation.  I’m looking at his sense of humor.

Most of the time, I’ll allow him to guide the conversation, allow him to pick the topics.  And I’m looking at what he wants to talk about, what he’s knowledgeable about.  I’m looking at how he presents himself when talking about something he knows a lot about.  I’m looking at how he talks about his job, his family, his friends.  I’m looking at the stories he chooses to share.

I do all of this to get a basic understanding of the way he acts and reacts, and his general “default” emotional and mental state.  Once I’ve got a pretty good idea of what that is, I can start looking for things that trigger a response that falls outside of that “default” state.

And once that happens, I’m in.

That level of observation and focus never diminishes.  I’m always watching my boys, taking mental notes.  Because once you get into the really fun stuff, you need to know everything you can learn about him.  It’s crucial.

So I hope this helps.  If you have any more questions, feel free to email me, and I’ll be happy to help you out!

Sounds like Jesse

Alright, cat’s out of the bag.  Sounder’s name (the name I call him, anyway, and his real name, as far as I’m concerned) is Jessica.  For convenience and to keep it discreet in public, I shorten it to Jesse.

About a week ago, I gave him an assignment.  Part of his training is to gradually lose his privilege of privacy.  That includes emotional and mental privacy, too.  I want to know what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling.  I want to know what he wants, what he craves, his hopes, his fears, memories of the past and dreams for the future, literally everything.

Steel can attest to this desire to know everything, and he knows just how serious I am about it.

Jesse is no different.  If I could get a constant feed of every thought he has, every day of the week, including images and running synopses of his dreams at night, that would be almost enough to satisfy me.


How does one go about opening up a man who is very much not used to opening up?

Well, slowly.

Here’s the thing about training pretty much any submissive, particularly when you want to go as deep as I do.

They’re grown ass men.

They’re used to doing basically what they want, when they want.  They’re used to handling their shit, living their lives, all that stuff.  They have egos, they have autonomy, they have the ability to live their lives successfully without (or with minimal) interference.

They have a need, and they know how to meet it on their own.  Independence.  Autonomy.  Free will.  Whatnot.

So when you start taking away their rights and privileges, and start taking away their ability to meet their needs on their own, it forces them to confront the idea that they are no longer in control of having their own basic needs met, and must depend on their Owner for that.  The Owner gets to decide when (or if) and how those needs are met.

The thing is that being confronted with this type of loss of control, particularly when it comes to needs or privileges that are extremely important to that particular submissive, often creates a level of discomfort and anxiety in the submissive.  There’s usually an amount of pushback at first, and it’s natural.  Basic human psychology and all that.

Over time, as the trust deepens, and the submissive realizes that he will be taken care of, his needs will be met, and he has nothing to worry about, that anxiety is replaced with freedom and peace.  He doesn’t have to worry about all that bullshit anymore.

Still, it can be scary at first.

And, since I occasionally try to be a nice person, I do what I can to minimize the anxiety.  There are a couple of ways I do this.

First, I wait until the relationship is well-established, I’ve proven to the sub that he can trust me implicitly, and that I will put his needs above my desires and whims.  A great deal of trust has already been established.  So the sub doesn’t immediately freak the fuck out when I start taking stuff away.

Another thing I do is the exact opposite of what I’ve seen some Dominants do.

It is apparently relatively common to threaten to end the relationship, or discard the sub, if he doesn’t continue performing to the best of his abilities.

This idea is pure and utter bullshit, and people who play this kind of game are insecure children who are obviously not in control of themselves, and should therefore never be allowed to control another person.

Fear is a primitive emotion, and using it as a primary tool to control someone is ineffective as fuck.  Aside from needlessly stressing your sub the fuck out for literally no reason whatsoever, and dealing a pretty fucking heavy, damaging, long-lasting blow to their psyche (yeah, that’s a great way to take care of another human being), power gained through fear is not real power.

That power disappears as soon as the fear disappears.  So Dominants who engage in this type of relationship must find new ways to keep that fear alive, and foster that negative emotion.

But even then, the power rests with the partner who is most willing to walk away.  That isn’t always the Dominant.  And then, what happens when the Dominant finds herself (or himself) dependent on the submissive for one reason or another?

That power is gone, and the dynamic dissolves.

And on top of that, they’re denying a sub’s basic need from being met.  Every sub needs to feel secure with his Owner, and in his relationship, in order to give up his inner self, and expose that vulnerability.  They need to know that they’re loved, and cherished, and won’t be abandoned.  They need to know that their needs are being met, and will continue to be met, no matter what.

Power given through love and respect, rather than fear, is real power.  A sub who follows out of love and respect will always be happier, more loyal, more faithful, more eager to serve, more fulfilled, and more at peace than a sub who follows out of fear of abandonment or punishment.

So I don’t ever threaten to leave or abandon my boys.  I assure them, loudly and often, that they’re mine, and I’m going to take care of them, and I’m not going anywhere.  This security allows them to take a breath and get their bearings when that anxiety kicks in.  They know that I’m here for them, and I will continue being here for them.

The other thing I do is take things slowly, and give them time to adjust to each new thing I take away.  And it starts small.  For Sounder, it started with taking away his ability to wear men’s underwear.  Something relatively minor, in the grand scheme of things.  But it was a lot for him at first.

I’m in no rush.  I’ve got all the time in the world.  So I waited a year to start pushing him hard.

And even that is going to be taken slowly.  For example, talking about his feelings is not one of his strongest points, and he can be a difficult person to read.  This is something that will become an obstacle if I take him much deeper.  So the first big thing I want to take away from him is privacy.  I want to know what he’s thinking.  I want to know what’s in his head.

So I told him to start an online journal or blog.  Something I could read.  The subject matter was completely up to him, but I expected at least 2 entries in any given 7-day period, at least 500 words each.

He, being the obedient sissy that he is, quickly had the blog set up and his first entry written.

I gave him the option of keeping the blog private, if he wanted it, and at first, he did.  But he’s been in an oddly agreeable, slutty mood lately, so he made it public.

It can be found here (I’m also putting a link to it, as well as Steel’s blog, in the side bar on the left).  I’m sure the kinky masses will love it as much as I do.

Silk and steel

That’s something Steel says about me; that I’m soft as silk, and strong as steel (he’s an eloquent bitch, I tell you).  And it’s probably my favorite thing that any sub has said to describe me, followed closely by one of my exes telling me that my voice was like the purr of a lioness.

I don’t shriek, I don’t yell (Kazander has only ever heard me raise my voice once in six years, and it felt odd, getting that loud), none of that.  I stay quiet, even when I’m mad.  My ex said my voice made him think of a lioness, quiet and low, but terrifying, a strange and frightening mix between a purr and a growl.

Relentless.  That’s another word multiple people have used.  All three of my boys are intimately familiar with that trait.

And last night, Steel was sorta-kinda-pleasantly reminded why I never need to raise my voice to effectively get my point across, and why it would be a bad idea to ever piss me off (which made me laugh, when I was in the middle of tormenting him, and he whimpered, “Holy shit, remind me never to piss you off.”)

I spent the day with him yesterday, our first chance to play together since December.  And just like every other time we’re together, it’s just natural, neither of us have to force anything, it just flows.

We don’t even have to think about it.  We can immediately switch between a subdued, public dynamic (in which he still isn’t allowed to call me by my name, by the way), and the much more intense private one.  But even then, it’s just easy being with him.

At one point, we were ordering pizza from a place he liked.  He (being an east coast boy) said, “It’s about as close to New York style pizza as you can get here.”

I, being a west coast girl, and not usually a fan of pizza in general, looked at him and said, “Is there a difference between New York style and everything else?”


“Okay Ma’am, we need to rethink this relationship.”

Oh, but fun side note.  He suggested we get the tiramasu.  I’d never tried it, but oh my gawd, it’s like one of my favorite things ever.  Like, ever.

So yay for broadened horizons!


I loved how needy and clingy he was.  And how eager.  I knew he wanted to break for me, and that he was trying to push himself to that point.  Part of me wanted to give him that little extra push he needed, to cross that line, because I know he needs it.  And hell, I wanted it, too.

But then, I stopped, and held him back, instead.  As much trouble as he sometimes has with feeling needy, and with crashing when I get off the phone or computer, it’ll be so much worse once I’ve broken him.

No, that can’t happen until we’re no longer separated by a country, and can see each other more than twice a year.

When he gets in subspace, he can sometimes be a little on the self-destructive side, bounding ahead toward that line between fun and fucking dangerous.  If the one holding his leash isn’t careful, he can run right past that line, and keep going without hesitation.

I won’t let him do that.  I have no problem pulling him back and bringing him to heel.  So when he expressed his desire to break for me, I pulled him back and wouldn’t let him.

But just because I wouldn’t let him break didn’t mean I couldn’t push him hard, and give him something to remember me by for the next few days.

We started off the afternoon with him naked and collared on the bed, eagerly moaning and whimpering while I alternated between hurting him and caressing him.  He was so hungry, so needy.  He wrapped his arms around me and held on to me so tightly, begging to kiss me, and gasping when I bit down hard on his tongue.

And he really is so cute when he begs.  It almost sounds desperate once he gets going, and it always makes me smile.  When he begged to be on his hands and knees for me, to take whatever I wanted to put in him, how could I say no?

He hasn’t had anything inside him since the last time I saw him, so I started slow, just putting a single finger in him and savoring his reaction to finally being penetrated.

And he was so tight.  It felt amazing, being in him.

But he’s a slut, meant to be fucked, and his body quickly relaxed enough for me to put a second finger in.  And then a third.

The third was painful for him, and the way he whined was so intoxicating.  I wanted to make him whine more.

So I pulled out my strapon, a toy he hadn’t been able to take before.  I knew he was stretched out enough to take it without harming him or tearing him, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like a bitch.

And, as Sounder will readily attest to, I’ve been in a bit of a sadistic mood lately.

Yesterday was no different.  I wanted to hurt Steel.  I’ve wanted to hurt the little masochistic bitch for months, but haven’t been able to.  I was going to make up for lost time.

I pushed the dildo into him smoothly, and he whined and whimpered so pretty as I filled him up.  I fucked him for a good long while, then just left the dildo in him, pushing him over so he was lying on his back.

I left it in him for awhile, then took it out and replaced it with a small plug designed to put pressure on his prostate.  That, I left in him for awhile, while he worshiped my body and fell deeper and deeper into subspace.  Somewhere around that point (chronology always gets fuzzy in my head the next day, I’m sure there are sessions I’ve written about with Sounder, where he raises an eyebrow because I’ve written things out of order) is when he expressed his desire to break, and I pulled him back.

I snapped him out of the subspace and gave him a break, right about then is when we ate dinner (I think).  Then, I pulled out my trusty prostate massager, put clothespins on his nipples and cock, lied him on his side, and held him close while I gave him a long, thorough fucking.

I wasn’t going to break him, but I knew he needed to feel the surrender that a big part of him tends to fight, no matter how much he may want it.  If I wasn’t going to let him break, I would definitely push him to that point of surrender.

For a long time, I did nothing but fuck him, kiss his neck and his ear, and tell him that he’s mine, my toy, and that he’s a good bitch who will take whatever I decide to put in him, whether he wants it or not.

And for a long time, he wanted it.  That hunger kept burning, and he whined and begged and squirmed against me.  Even once it started hurting, his masochism kicked in and he wanted it, wanted more.

After… Oh I don’t know, 45 minutes?  He suddenly started begging for me to fuck him with my strapon again, and that confused me at first, until I realized how much it was hurting.

But no, I didn’t feel like stopping.  And he has no safeword.  And I wanted to really drive that point home.

I do what I want with him, and he can’t stop me.  He doesn’t have that power.  And the more I fucked him, the more he gave himself up to that fact, the easier it became for him to handle it.

When I finally stopped, I lied down next to him and he immediately moved closer to me, wrapping his arms around me and nuzzling close, burying his face against my neck.  Less than a minute later, he was begging me to fuck him with the strapon again.

I laughed, completely in love with his eagerness.  But no, his poor hole was throbbing and hurting and raw, and the size of the strapon wouldn’t be good for him.

When I told him no, he asked for the plug instead.  And the way he begged, the way he gazed up at me, I just couldn’t say no.  The plug is small, I knew it wouldn’t cause him any harm.

So I put it back in, and then pulled him back into my arms.  He went willingly, clinging hard to me and moaning softly.

Really, of all the things I did to him, of all the pain and pleasure and frustration and torment I put him through, the part that always seems to be my favorite is the way he clings to me.  I could literally lie there with him, or sit up with him curled up in my lap, for hours.

At one point, I needed to leave the room to get ice or run downstairs or something (I can’t remember which time it was), he didn’t want me to leave (he didn’t want me to leave any of the times I left the room, but there’s one specific time I’m talking about).  I stood next to the bed and leaned down to give him a reassuring hug before I left, and the way he hugged me made me never want to leave the bed again, for the rest of my life.

The last time anyone touched me like that was December, the last time I saw him.  Granted, I’m not usually an overly touchy-feely person, anyway, and I tend to gravitate toward men (and women) who are the same way.  Hell, Steel is that way with everyone else.

Except me.  The way he clings to me just makes me melt.

Sure, he’s mine, I own him, he wears my collar, and I greedily take every shred of control over his life that he offers up (and will continue to do so once he’s local and I can push him even harder), but if I’m really being honest with myself, that little slut has me wrapped around his finger.