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!

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.

Love struck teenagers

So I finally escaped the hippies and found a hotel room about 30 miles away, in grand old Tennessee.  With air conditioning.  And cell service.  And WiFi.

If you’re waiting for emails/responses from me, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait another day.  I’ve only got this night to myself (well, my spawn is with me, but you know what I mean), and I’ll have to be back at the hippie compound at 8am in the morning (translation: 5am, Vegas time, ugh), and I wouldn’t even be posting this if it wasn’t already more than halfway finished.  The spare time that I do have before I collapse from exhaustion, I want to use to talk to the people I own.

The hippies are interesting.  And the people I’m not related to are really nice.  It’s an odd feeling, being surrounded by people who are so remarkably open and unguarded.  I spend most of my time learning about the walls that any given person has built up around themselves, and figuring out how to get around them, while simultaneously (and perhaps hypocritically) strengthening the ones around myself.

There are no walls here.  There is no hiding here.  I see these men and women who are just so open, who allow themselves to be so vulnerable, it’s disconcerting to be around.  All I can do is sit back and watch them interact with each other, uninhibited, unguarded, uncensored.

They laugh without reservation, they cry without reservation, they hug and kiss and touch the people they love without worrying about what other people may think.  Watching two straight, married men kiss and hold hands upon greeting was shocking to me the first time I saw it, but no one else seemed to think there was anything strange about it.

Which made me think about the way I see things like that.  I mean, when two people love and care about each other, why shouldn’t they show it?  It’s kind of beautiful.  I’m glad to have been here to see that.

But as much as I’ve enjoyed spending time with these people, seeing the incredible way they live their lives, so far my favorite part of the trip was the first day I arrived.

My daughter and I got off the plane, got our bags, and piled into Steel’s car.

I’d arranged to land in his city, rather than the closest city to where my mom lived, and arranged to land in the evening so he would be able to pick us up and spend some time with us before driving us to my mom’s house.

It had been months since we’d seen each other, and as soon as I made sure the spawn was safely buckled in the back seat, I threw my arms around him and hugged him, kissing the back of his neck and holding him tight.

I’d already pulled his collar out and locked it around his neck, kissing his ear as the lock clicked closed.


Moments later, I reluctantly peeled myself off him, and he was pulling out onto the road, toward a restaurant we’d gone to last time I’d gone to see him.

The spawn was shy at first, as she usually is around new people, but very quickly warmed up to him and was devastated when I told her at the restaurant that she’d have to settle for sitting next to him, that I wouldn’t let her sit on-fucking-top of him.

The poor dear.

All through dinner, it took every ounce of willpower I had to keep my hands off of him.  And I wasn’t exactly 100% successful with that.

Afterward, I wasn’t ready to make the drive to my mom’s house yet, so we found a table outside where we could sit for a little while.  I tossed the spawn my phone, and she was quickly engrossed in a game, completely oblivious to us.

And right around that point was when I found out that he had brought a clothespin with him.  I discreetly pulled his cock out and attached the clothespin to it, savoring that quiet little gasp he gave, and the immediate, if subtle, surrender in his eyes as he met mine.

We were in public, and he was trying very hard not to give in to his desire to curl up in my lap right then and there.  And really, he resisted that urge pretty well.

It was fun, and made me feel like we were a couple of teenagers, whispering to each other, sneaking in the occasional kiss, hurriedly copping the occasional feel, when the parents  (ie, my kid) weren’t looking.

After so long of being hungry for him, but unable to touch him, it was heaven to be able to finally get a taste of the boy I’m going to fucking devour when I finally get him to myself.

It doesn’t matter how long we’re apart.  It never does.  The moment we’re back together, he melts right into me so perfectly.  It’s immediately clear to both of us that he belongs there, his face buried in my neck, his arms wrapped around me, whining and gasping and begging when I reached down to pull on the clip on his cock.

I would’ve loved to sit there all night, teasing him and tormenting him, but we did have to get going.  It’s a long drive from his city to my mom’s, and he would still have to drive all the way back after dropping us off.

So we headed out, and made pretty good time.  We had to sneak a goodnight kiss when my mom wasn’t looking.  I quickly (and reluctantly) unlocked his collar, groped him one last time, then hugged him and told him goodbye, with a promise that I would do brutal, terrible, evil things to him when I get him to myself.

Only a few days to go.

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.


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,

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.

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.

Answering a comment

A gentleman made a comment on my last post.

First time visitor of your blog here.

I totally see your point, however I feel that you are jumping to conclusions. I live in a small town in eastern Europe. I’ve attended a munch once in a city nearby. There were 15 people total. 6 doms, 5 male subs, 3 female subs and 1 domme. The whole time I was there I felt like a third wheel and couldn’t contribute to the conversation, because the only thing we had in common were our intimate interests, which we actually barely talked about. It’s more difficult to manage that in a group setting than in a 1on1 conversation.

So after that experience I retreated back to the internet. There’s one thing I have to point out though. Once I finish my masters degree I want to move. I’m still undecided on the location, maybe UK. I don’t think trying to get to know people over the internet is a bad thing, hell we should praise the internet, because it’s actually hard to find someone compatible, so to speak, within our small community. And who knows, should I find someone like that, it could very well be the nudge I need to move.

Welcome to the blog.

I can see where you’re coming from.  But, since you’ve actually been to a munch, you’re not in the group of men who refuse to go, which are the ones I was addressing in the post.

And I wasn’t condemning the internet. Far from it. I met all three of my subs on the internet, and have developed friendships with people all over the world, thanks to the internet. It also gives people a degree of anonymity that helps them talk out their feelings in a way that an in-person conversation can’t.

Especially if you’re planning on moving, you’re right, it’s a good idea to get to know people from other places.

I’m not saying the internet is a bad thing. But a large group of submissive men (judging from my experience and the experiences of other Dominant women I’ve spoken to about it, the majority of submissive men) has never been to a munch, and outright refuses to go. The excuses they’ve given are as varied as the men themselves, but it all boils down to the same thing.

Some munches suck. Some groups suck. And I’ve been to plenty where I was bored out of my mind, surrounded by people I can’t relate to at all, just like the munch you described. It’s part of the process.

Compare it to vanilla dating. One bad date shouldn’t turn you off to dating altogether. One bad munch shouldn’t turn you off to them all. They’re not all bad. And I still maintain that they’re the best way to get a feel for the local community, as well as make friends who understand this side of you.

That was something Kazander had an issue with for awhile. There were things I did to him that made him nervous and anxious. But he couldn’t talk to anyone about it. He sure as hell couldn’t talk to his vanilla friends. Being exposed to other men and women who understand what he’s feeling, people he could confide in and vent to, has helped him.

He can talk to people who understand the anxiety he felt when I first opened our relationship, people who understand the anxiety he feels when I make him do something that scares him.  Making friends who he can talk to about those kinds of things has been wonderful for him.

And it took a long time for him to get to that point.  He’s not a social butterfly to begin with, and communicating about his feelings isn’t something he excels at.  But eventually, in talking to other subs who are open about themselves, he started opening up a bit, himself.

And really, that is such an important thing.  Too many submissive men feel isolated, and unable to really talk.  I mean, of course they can always talk to their Dominants, but sometimes they just need to be able to talk to someone else.  That’s the way it is with Kazander, anyway.

So yes, the internet is a very good thing, and a useful tool.  But for the men who are too embarrassed or too ashamed to go to a munch, they are quite effectively telling Dominant women what they can expect in a relationship.  If a man is too ashamed to go to a munch, and engage in (mostly) vanilla conversation with other lifestyle people, if he’s unable to be that open, then I can safely assume he’s going to try to shove me into one little corner of his life, and keep me there.


That doesn’t work for me.  I don’t fit neatly into little corners and boxes.  I burst through and fuck shit up.  It’s kinda my thing.  And I do it extraordinarily well.

Now, I understand that the majority of men can’t handle that.  And I get it.  I know it’s overwhelming, I know.  I’m not saying that all Dommes do what I do or expect what I expect.  I’m sure there are some that aren’t open, and keep D/s in that little corner, and I’m sure that works for them.

I am not one of those women.  And I have personally never met one of those women.  The women I have personally met and spoken to about this topic agree that men refusing to go to munches and/or acknowledging their orientation is supremely annoying and frustrating.

We’re proud of who we are.  And we’re proud of the men we own.  If those men can’t be proud of us, then we have no interest.