Coining!!

What happens when you combine a regular, unassuming coin with some tiger balm?

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This fucking awesomeness, right here.

I went to Sadie’s tonight, and she had just heard about an ancient Chinese healing technique called “coining.”

She’d never heard of it before, but she researched it and, being the sadist she is, fell in love.

Hearing her talk about it made me, the sadist that I am, fall in love.

So after a class on abrasion play (my shopping list just quadrupled in size, btw) she handed me a big, fancy Chinese coin.

Coining is actually a legitimate healing technique that is said to release toxins from the body, just like fire cupping. And as you can see, it leaves fantastic marks, that supposedly stay for days.

Kazander is not a masochist. But even he said there was very little pain involved, and the pain he did experience was minor.

But to look at his back, you’d think I wailed on him. That picture was taken about 20 minutes after I’d finished, and really the picture doesn’t do it justice (I couldn’t get the color to look accurate in my camera).

It’s soooo pretty. And soooo much fun to look at.

If you’re interested in learning how, I definitely recommend finding a professional to teach you. But as far as edgy BDSM play goes, this is on the safer side. All you do is rub tiger balm (or icy hot, or whatever) on a sub’s back, and then use repeated firm downward strokes along the back, moving away from the heart. There are youtube videos of it everywhere. One professional assured a vlogger that it’s safe for pregnant women, elderly, and children (although in the US, people have been reported for child abuse after seeing the marks. I’m not kidding, the picture doesn’t do it justice. If I saw that on a little kid and had no idea it was a relatively painless ancient healing technique, I’d call the police immediately).

It’s often used in conjunction with fire cupping, and Kazander said it was rather relaxing, and felt like a massage. Sure some areas began to hurt after a minute, but he was completely stunned when I showed him the pictures of his back, and he realized how dark the marks are.

He said, “It didn’t feel like you were doing anything.”

So coining. Lots of awesomeness. Yet another technique to add to my arsenal.

 

Nightmare

What do most people do when they wake up from a nightmare?

They might shake it off, grab some water, do something to get their mind off it, then go back to bed.

Which is exactly what I did last night. But I wanted some help getting my mind off of it.

After lying back down in bed, Kazander rolled over, onto his back, resting his head in the crook of my arm, his hand on my thigh, still half asleep.

So I tightened my arm around his neck, choking him. And the way he squirmed and whimpered was so sweet. He writhed next to me on the bed, gripping my arm until I finally let him go, and he lied there, panting.

I spent a few minutes choking him, pinching his nipples, and hurting him. It was fun, but I didn’t wake him up to hurt him.

I grabbed a handful of his hair and shoved him down the bed, between my legs, where I held him there and grinded against his tongue, making him lick me to an orgasm.

Apparently I was a little rough with him. I woke up this morning feeling sore and bruised. When I told him about he, he told me I cut his lip by grinding so hard against him.

Oh well. At least I slept well after that.

Oral sex for stress relief

So I have my quirks.

But it’s alright.  I’ve embraced my neuroses, and the people in my life either keep up or fade away.  Or they get violently booted out of my life and I set their car on fire.

(metaphorically, people)

Red looks like he’s going to be one of the latter.  I woke up to a 6-text-long tirade about Texas being controlling and abusive, and (and this is what set off my burn-it-all-to-the-ground-o-meter) implying that I was going to get her killed by allowing him to stay with her.

I organized my thoughts, wrote a reply, but hesitated before sending it.  It’s one of those point-of-no-return things.  I mean every damn word I wrote, and will say it to his face (and a good deal of it, I have said to his face), but I send that, and I’ll most likely lose Red as a friend.  More than that, my whole family and Kazander’s family will lose him as a friend.

It’ll be a pretty complete bridge burning.

So instead, I talked to Sounder.  I showed him the texts and the reply I had cocked and ready, and vented to him a bit.  He listened patiently, offered some advice and wisdom, and helped me get centered again.  I decided not to send it, hoping that Red would calm down and cool off.

Now I don’t think I have a choice.  A conversation after dinner with Kazander’s sister and her husband let me know that there was no way to fix this situation if Red doesn’t back off, and it’ll just continue to escalate.

The problem is that there is only one man somewhat capable of physically restraining Red, should the shit hit the fan and he decide to go after Texas.  That man is Kazander, and despite Kazander being a great deal taller than Red, he’ll still have trouble.  My brother in law has been sick for years and is not in shape to restrain him.

More than that, BIL is going out of town for work, and will be gone for weeks.  Kazander works during the day.  That leaves his sister and me.

I am no delicate fucking flower.  I’m 5’9,” I’ve taught martial arts, and I can take care of myself.  But I’m not in the shape I was in when I taught martial arts, and I don’t lift weights every day, like he does.  SIL and I won’t be able to hold him if he decides to go after Texas.  And it’s just us and the kids during the day.

SIL is not the most emotionally stable person to begin with, and the stress and tension is getting to her.  She feels uncomfortable in her own house, the kids feel uncomfortable, and even I’m uncomfortable as fuck with this whole thing.

Red’s getting worse.  He blew up my phone, Kazander’s phone, SIL’s phone, and my mother in law’s phones today.  He’s being threatening, crossing limits, and bullying the people not strong enough to tell him to fuck off.

Fine.  So he’s worried about people being “controlling?”  Oh, he’ll get “controlling.”

You’ve never seen “controlling” until you’ve pissed off a Dominant.  It took him weeks, but today he finally managed to piss me off.

The first thing I did after reading his text in the morning was to tell Lia to block his number again, and she is not to unblock it, for any reason, without my permission.  I spoke with SIL after dinner and asked if she’d be alright if I took point on the whole thing, and her response was an immediate “Yes, please.”

“Great.  So change the locks.  This weekend.  He’s not sneaking up on us again and showing up unexpectedly like he did last time.”

“It’ll be done.”

“Good.  I’ll tell him that I blocked his number from Lia’s phone, that I changed the locks, and that I will not allow him around her without another adult present.  If he calls or texts you or your mom, tell him he can talk to me if he has a problem.”

“Done.”

He’s never seen “controlling.”  Oh, but he will.  And I can out-bully any bully.

I never once claimed to be a good person, people.

So this whole thing is going to explode spectacularly.  It’s great.  Everything is great.

It’s great.

So there’s been a bit of stress.  And I needed to relieve some of it.

Enter my husband.

He’s been a bit tense with this whole thing, and the regular work nonsense, and with my tension and stress, not much kinky fun has been going on.

That needed to change.  So last night, he fell asleep on the couch, and I decided I wanted to cum.

What is one to do when one wants oral and one’s submissive is sleeping on the couch?

Wake him up by straddling him and shoving one’s pussy in his face.

Naturally.

It was so cute.  For the first few seconds, he was all confused.  But then, when he realized what was being shoved in his mouth, he suddenly became quite eager and wrapped his arms around my waist as I rode his face.

But I can’t cum while sitting up, and wanted to lie down and relax and make him do all the work, anyway.  We went to the bedroom, where I grabbed him by his hair and shoved him back between my legs.  He obediently licked like the good little bitch he is, and I decided to reward him by letting him cum.

One of my favorite ways to make him cum is by letting him hump my leg.  Like a cute little dog.  So he laid his head on my hip, wrapped his body around my leg, and humped enthusiastically while I reminded him why he can’t fuck me like a real man.

It was fun.

Oh, and in other news, I’m going to visit my psychotic mother in a couple of months.  Spending twelve days with her is not something I’m looking forward to.  And even Sounder expressed sympathy for whatever poor North Carolinian idiot happens to say the wrong thing when I’m already on edge from being with my mother, and ends up getting his hair/clothes/car/house/whatever set on fire.

The boy knows me too well.

So it’s going to be interesting.

But

There is one bright spot to that visit, and that’s Steel.  I haven’t seen him since December, and the distance is really weighing heavy on both of us.

I hate when he crashes, or feels lost and lonely, and I can’t be there to help him.  I don’t do “helpless” well, and knowing someone I love is suffering because I’m not there, and knowing that I can’t make it stop, bothers the hell out of me.  There is no combination of words in any language to describe my eagerness in seeing him again.

I arranged for my flight to get in to the city he lives in, rather than the city closest to where my mom lives.  He’s going to pick me up from the airport, we’ll get some dinner, and then he’ll drive me to my mom’s house.

I’ll have the spawn with me, so there won’t be able to be any super amazing fun, but we’re both at a point where we just need some time together, regardless of the setting and what we can or cannot do.  That and he really needs to feel my collar again.  I keep his collar with me (it’s with me 24/7) and it bothers him when he can’t wear it.  He asked if I’d be willing to lock it around his neck as soon as I see him at the airport.

Of course that was already my plan.  He’s not the only one who dislikes the absence of the collar.  He’s mine.  He’s collared and owned, and I’m proud as fuck to own him.  Of course I want him to wear it all the time.

And he will, when he’s with me, where he belongs.  I’ll lock it on him and it won’t come off.  For now, separated by a country, we do what we can.

He’ll get a few hours of wearing it that first night.  It’s a bit of a drive from his city to the little town where my mom lives.  And then we’ll work on arranging a second, more private visit, in which he can spend some time naked, plugged, collared, and curled up in my lap.

Having that time with him will go a long way toward not setting the state on fire.

How to find a Domme

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

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

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

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

Dear Mistress/Goddess/Whatever

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

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

Random well-meaning sub

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In a few, I was proven very wrong.

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

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

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

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

Because you don’t go to munches.

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

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

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

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

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

And you all can just fuck right off with that.

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

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

Which makes us feel unwanted, and undesirable.

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

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

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

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

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

There’s just no reason for it.

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

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

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

Including Kazander, there was one.

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

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

Nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A fun new development, and what the hell is up with my husband?

I went back over to Sounder’s last night.  I texted him about a week ago and told him I wanted him to do something for me.  I wanted him to clean my car.

He said, “Absolutely.  But what’s the catch?”

He knows me all too well.

Of course I couldn’t let him clean anything unless he was wearing his French maid costume.  With his makeup done, and his hair up.  He’s lucky that the Aneros he’d bought wasn’t in yet.  Otherwise, that would’ve been inside him, too.

There was something else I wanted to do to him, too.  He looks so good in his girls’ clothes, but the chest hair just had to go.  So I brought wax strips with me, and was going to wax his chest.

I had him lie down on the bed, and put the first two strips on him.  Oh, it was going to be fun.  But I wasn’t mean.  I didn’t draw it out or anything.  I yanked the first strip off, and he took it surprisingly well. Good, so it wouldn’t take long at all.

And his reactions were great.  I couldn’t keep myself from giggling as I pulled strip after strip off him.  He really is so cute when he’s in pain.

When I was done with that, I got him dressed, styled his hair, and then we went down to the garage (which was closed, I’m not mean enough to make him deal with the possibility of being seen by his neighbors like that) and he got to work.

Not five minutes after he got started, my best friend called, and I started talking to her, more or less ignoring Sounder the entire time.

Sometimes I feel bad for her, though.  She’s so painfully conservative when it comes to relationships and sex, and neither she nor her husband are really satisfied.

So I chatted with her and drank my wine while Sounder dutifully cleaned my car.  And when he was done, we went back inside, and I bent him over his kitchen island and fingered him for a bit.

Shortly after that, though, I took him upstairs.  There was something else I was wanting to do.  I was going to let him cum, as a reward for being an obedient boy and cleaning my car.  But he was going to eat it, for the very first time.

I told him to lie down on the bed, then pulled out my vibrating wand.

And I learned a couple of things.

First of all, he moves more like a girl now.  Which shocked the hell out of me.  I wasn’t expecting that.  Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever consciously registered the way men and women move/writhe/squirm/whatever when they’re being teased before.  It wasn’t until that night, watching him writhe as I held the wand to him, that I realized there’s a big fucking difference.  Suddenly, every girlfriend I’ve ever had, every girl I’ve ever played with flashed in my head.  And yes, there are similarities in the way they moved.  And yes, Sounder now moved like that.

He arched his back like a girl, he grinded his hips like a girl, he even started whimpering like a girl, the longer I went on.  Over the months that I’ve played with him, I’ve gotten very familiar with his body.  I could tell immediately that he was moving differently.

And hell no, I didn’t expect that.  That’s not a physical change, like breast growth or rounder hips.  That’s a mental, physiological thing.  Nothing I’d read about the effects of the birth control mentioned anything about that.

It wasn’t subtle, either.  At first, I thought for a minute that he was doing it on purpose, to please me.  But the more I teased him, the more I realized that no, this was natural and completely unconscious.  He wasn’t even aware of it.

The only thing I can think of is that the hormones are affecting his brain chemistry in some way.  I mean, no one teaches a girl how to move like that.  It just comes naturally, because she’s a girl.  Maybe his mannerisms are becoming more feminine because of the increased levels of estrogen and decreased levels of testosterone.

Maybe?  I don’t know, it shocked us both.  But I freaking love it.

The other thing we found out is that he can no longer cum from penile stimulation.  Like, at all.

I must’ve sat there, teasing him, for 45 minutes, probably longer.  And the longer I did it, the more I loved it.  I would switch between holding the wand against the head, to holding it down near the base, against his balls while stroking him (that got some amazing freaking reactions, like holy hell).

At one point, he half-gasped, half-whimpered, “God, it just won’t stop.”  And that, with the whimpered “Fuck” thrown in here and there (and even those sounded more feminine), along with all the other sexy sounds he made, and the adorable way he writhed, definitely kept me entertained.

I varied the speed of the vibration, I varied the movement of my hands, to keep the intensity up, to keep him from getting used to anything.  And it was amazing.  He was unbelievably frustrated, horny, completely beyond overwhelmed.  Hell, I half expected him to start crying if I kept it up long enough.  And I certainly considered seeing if I could push him that far.

Especially once he said, “Hurt it.  Please, just hurt it.”  I laughed, and kept teasing him, doing whatever I could to keep the intensity up.

I considered it a win, though, when he said, “What do I have to do to make it stop?”

He’s never begged, he’s never asked me to stop anything, and it had been a goal of mine to get him to that point.  Whether through pleasure, pain, or some combination of the two, I wanted to get him to that point.

And thanks to this awesome new side effect, I finally did.

So shortly after that, I turned off the wand and let him recover.  He got dressed, and we went downstairs, sat on the couch, and watched TV.  And he dozed off with my hand around his throat.

The next day, I told him he could masturbate.  I’ve been on a “nice” kick recently, and decided to shock the hell out of him by telling him he could cum.

But I had more reasons than just that one.  I wanted to see if he could.  He couldn’t with me, but he knows his body better than I do, he knows what he likes, and he may have more luck doing it on his own.

After almost an hour of trying, he texted me to let me know it was an absolute failure.  He simply cannot cum from penile stimulation alone.

Which means he’ll have to be milked.  Which means he’ll only be able to cum from being fucked like a girl.  He can no longer orgasm like a man.

Just another piece of his manhood shriveling away and dying…

And it hasn’t even been a month yet.  This whole process is going so much faster than I expected it to, and I absolutely love it.  I never thought in my wildest dreams that so much would happen so quickly.  He has a history of odd reactions to medications, so there was a wonder about how his body would react to this, but it’s amazing.

Once the Aneros gets in, I’ll use that on him and milk him.  The poor thing hasn’t had an orgasm in forever (his last one was written about on the blog, weeks and weeks and weeks ago).  And the last two teasing sessions certainly didn’t help.

And I’m not completely heartless.  I’ll let him get that release.  He’s been a good sissy, and he’s obedient, and just as I want to punish bad behavior, I want to reward good behavior.

So he’ll definitely get that release soon.

In other news, Kazander approached me last night with an interesting question.  He had a picture of a fucking machine up on his laptop, showed it to me, and said, “Is this the fucking machine you said you wanted?”

What?

A fucking machine?  When did I say I wanted a fucking machine?

Well, sure I want one.  I also want a $4,000 BDSM bedframe, a bondage horse, a cage (or two), a suspension rig, and a big house to put it all in, where I could live with all my boys, with a private, soundproof dungeon in the basement, stocked with pretty much every BDSM-related toy on the internet.  Sure.

I also want to win the lottery.  I don’t expect it to actually happen.

Why don’t I expect it to happen?  Because the one he showed me was $800.  And the one I want is $2,000.

For those who are new to the blog, I don’t work.  I raise my kid, and will be homeschooling her in the fall because Nevada is the absolute worst state in the country as far as public education, and she didn’t hit any of the acceptance lotteries for the charter schools in the area.  So I won’t be getting a job anytime in the relative future.  Not unless I can try again next year (I’m still not sure how it works for admission after kindergarten), or hope that they build a new one and get her on the list there.

And Kazander makes decent money.  He makes enough that we live comfortably on his income alone.  But he doesn’t make let’s-blow-two-grand-on-a-whim money.  He doesn’t even make let’s-blow-eight-hundred-dollars-on-a-whim money.  If he did, I would not have gone the last four months without visiting Steel.

I was also shocked because Kazander is, without a doubt, the most…. What’s a good word?  We’ll go with frugal.  He’s the most frugal person I’ve ever met in my entire life.  He does not part easily with money.

And, while I will always give him shit about it, and while it has come back to bite us in the ass more than once, I have to respect his skill with money.  That’s why he runs his family’s household.  His parents and sister went bankrupt, and he took over.  In something like 7 years, he took them from being so deep in debt, it was comical, to being completely debt-free, and homeowners.  He also started a stock account thing that will eventually serve as his retirement fund, and even if he doesn’t put another cent into it, will double his money every eight years.  And when the stock market crashed, and everyone freaked out and sold everything, he bought up everything he could.

He started with nothing – less than nothing, technically, considering the debt – and completely turned his entire family’s financial situation around to the point that they could buy a house.  Granted, it was through the VA, since my father-in-law is a veteran, and that’ll be tricky once he dies — which the man constantly says is going to happen any day now– because my mother-in-law is not a veteran, and Kazander and I are not veterans, and the VA has been known to require full payment of the loan if another vet can’t take it over, or they’ll repossess the house.

He even tried going to a lawyer to see about leaving the house to Kazander, and letting him take over the loan, and the lawyer’s advice was literally — and I’m 100% serious, I was there for this meeting, and I can’t make this shit up — “Tell your family not to tell the VA when you’ve died.  Hopefully they just won’t find out until the house is paid off.”

But for all his constant griping about how he’s going to die literally any second now (which was super awesome five years ago, the day before Kazander and I were going to tell his family I was pregnant, and that goddamn bastard left me alone with his father, who I’d only met a couple of times previous, who immediately started lamenting the fact that he’s going to die without ever having any grandchildren, and how that was his one big regret in life.  And I had to sit through alllllll of that, because the man never stops talking, knowing that I was pregnant.  I still haven’t let Kazander forget that.  Fucking bastard), I’m pretty damn sure he’s going to outlive us all, so we should be good.

It’s funny about the stocks, though.  Kazander got a life insurance policy and made me the beneficiary.  And after he did, he said, “Alright, after taxes you’ll have about X amount of money.  I know you’re going to spend Y amount on random life shit.  Bills, fuck-around-money, stuff like that.  So I want you to take Z amount and invest it, but only in such-and-such stocks, and something about dividends and interest, and a whole bunch of other shit I didn’t even remotely understand.”

I said, “That’s a lot of money, why don’t I just hire an accountant?”

He said, “No, you don’t want to hire an accountant.  There’s no need to, and it’s a waste of money, and you run the risk of getting caught in a scam.  Just do a whole bunch of technical stock lingo shit that I still didn’t understand.”

I said, “Okay, or here’s a new plan.  How about you just not die.”

So I don’t complain too much about it.  Unless I see a situation that will come back and bite us in the ass again.

But other than that, I don’t complain.  I have to respect his ability.  Hell, I couldn’t do that.  I keep telling him he needs to get an accounting degree.  He’s so amazing with numbers and money (I can literally ask him questions like, “What’s 27 multiplied by 16?”  Or “If something is $238 with 20% off, how much is the full price?”  And he’ll have an answer in less than five seconds.  And it’ll be the right answer.  It’s like some autistic prodigy-type shit.  It’s insane).  He could get an accounting degree in his sleep, and make at least as much as he’s making now, if not more, without having to work the insane hours in a non-climate-controlled environment.

I’m rambling again.  Fucking machine.  Right.

So I have no idea what bug has crawled up his ass, or what alien parasite has taken over my husband, that all of a sudden he’s looking at an $800 fucking machine, and seriously considering buying it for me.  I mean, granted, we won’t be able to buy it soon, it’s something we’d have to plan for, but still, that floored me, when he asked about it.  That’s not something I ever expected him to want to buy me.

And realistically, he may have considered the $800 one, but I just don’t want it.  It’s not versatile, it’s heavy and huge and loud, and some people have said it’s not strong enough for anal.  It’s not worth the money, and I don’t want it.

The $2,000 one is worth the money.  It’s called the Shockspot, and I’ve seen it in action, and it’s fucking amazing.

It can fuck in any position, it weighs twenty pounds, it folds up into something just slightly larger than a briefcase, it’s completely programmable, and it’s quieter.  We have a four-year-old, and no soundproof dungeon in the basement.  We need something that we can fold up into a case and put away.  And we need something that won’t be loud enough to wake her up in the middle of the night.

And I want something versatile enough that I can do whatever I want with it.  I don’t want to be limited.  Not when I’m spending that kind of money.  What’s the point in spending eight hundred damn dollars on something I can’t use the way I want to?

If I’m going to spend that kind of money, I want it to be something I’ll use, something that’s top-of-the-line, something that I’m not limited by.  I can’t get a fucking machine like that for $800.  Not with all the features that the Shockspot has.

And if $800 is our budget, then I’d much rather get a violet wand kit.  Kazander loves electrical play, and I love how sadistic it can be, so that’s the much better option for the price.  A violet wand is more versatile, there are more options, and it’s something I’ve always been interested in.  A fucking machine is goddamn fantastic, for a million and two reasons, and hell yes I want one, but when you really boil it down, it can only do one thing.

Don’t get me wrong, the Shockspot does that one thing damn well, and I fell in love with it as soon as I saw it.  But for more than double the price of the one Kazander suggested, I seriously doubt that’s a realistic option.

So we’ll see.  Maybe someone spiked his drink or something, and he was high off his ass when he suggested it.  Maybe he’ll turn back into the Kazander I know, and rethink the whole idea.

We’ll have to wait and see what happens.

The players

Since I’m all about the nicknames, and anonymity, and all that, I don’t use anyone’s real name here except my own.  But a couple of people have mentioned being confused at all the different people in my life, and the different people I write about.  So, since I’m just super organized and all (stop laughing), I figured I’d list them here.  This is every single person that has been named on my blog (I think, I might have forgotten one or two, but I’ll add to this as needed, so it’s fine).

Kazander:

My husband, my collared sub, and the father of my daughter.  He has some switchy tendencies, and is currently a Dom to his girlfriend.  He’s a tall, loud, intense guy, and many are surprised to find out what our dynamic is.  A lifestyle acquaintance once asked me what I call him; my Sir, my Daddy, etc.  I laughed and said, “I call him my bitch.”  I had known her for four years at the time.  He’s very intense, and I’m very laid-back, so sometimes people are surprised.  He’s a Sagittarius/Capricorn cusp, so he has the Capricorn intensity with the Sagittarius fire and force.  My best friend once said he intimidated the hell out of her.

He’s in charge of every other aspect of his life.  He runs his warehouse, he’s the driving force with his friends, and he’s the head of his family’s household (his parents, his uncle, his older sister, and her husband all live in the house next door).  He runs their finances and makes the big decisions.  His sisters defer to him, despite the fact that he’s the youngest of the three (and he’s 6 years older than I am).  Even his parents defer to him.

As strong-willed as he is, he can sometimes be a handful as a submissive, but when he melts and yields so completely to me, it’s the sweetest drug.  I love bringing that strong, powerful man to his knees.

We’ve been together since 2010, and were married late in 2014.  Our first year was a rough one, but he has that Capricorn loyalty and stubbornness to offset my rebelliousness and unpredictability, and we made it through the worst without losing each other.

Spawn/Monkey/Kid/etc:

My daughter, a precocious, independent, smart-ass 4-year-old who really is too smart for her own good.  She is your typical fiery Leo and she’s quick to let you know that she expects your world to revolve around her (being the only grandchild for both sets of grandparents, and spoiled out of her mind, doesn’t help).

She is about three minutes away from me duct-taping her mouth shut whenever I take her in public because she has the uncanny ability to say the worst thing (with no context) at the worst possible moment.

For example, her newest obsession is Spider Man.  He’s her new imaginary friend.  And I cannot convince her that there is a difference between a boy that is a friend and a boyfriend.  So the other day, when the cashier asked her how she was doing, she randomly blurted out, “My boyfriend sleeps in bed with me at night.”  And this is a very, very common practice.

As much as she tries to give me gray hair, though, I adore her, I think she’s fucking awesome, and I will gladly bore you to death bragging about her.

Steel

My second collared submissive, 15 years older than I am, a quiet, introverted Capricorn who lives much, much farther away from me than I’d like him to be.  Personal things have kept him off the blog until recently, and personal obligations are keeping us separated for the time being, but that will change soon.

While he good-naturedly chuckles and rolls his eyes at my obsession with astrology/spirituality/religion/fate/whatever, and patiently tolerates when I prattle on about it, there was just too much in the beginning of our relationship to call a coincidence.  Too many things fell into place at exactly the right time, too much went exactly the way we needed it to, it was like the entire Universe aligned to bring us into each other’s lives at exactly the right time, and then to bring us together exactly when it was supposed to happen.

We both broke quite a few of our personal rules by getting together, we both went completely out of character (he’s normally reserved, cautious, and slow to make emotional decisions, and I’m normally stand-offish, cold, and unwilling to let my emotions show) by getting as emotionally attached as we did, as quickly as we did.

He has an incredible gift with words, he’s delightfully smart-assy, and deliciously slutty.  Greedy, hungry, and just as insatiable as I am, we discovered early on that we have both been limited in the past by partners who never dared to go as deep, as dark, as twisted, as we wanted to go.  Now we don’t have that limitation, and I love exploring the depths of my depravity with him.

Sounder:

My newest submissive, a fantastic mix of sweet and sarcastic, a driven Capricorn 10 years older than I am.  He’s a hell of a lot of fun to hang out with, and to do wicked things to.  His mind is as much fun to play with as his body, and the fact that it’s normally damn near impossible to rattle him makes it even more fun to pull him off-balance.

He never does anything half-assed, and his submission to me is no exception.  I’ve often been surprised at his devotion to his service.  It takes a lot to impress me, but he’s done it quite often, both as my submissive and as a vanilla man.

I’m looking forward to seeing where our relationship goes, and how things progress.  I plan on pushing him farther than he’s ever been pushed before, in pretty much every aspect of kink.  He’s still learning just how more wicked I can be, and just how much deeper I can go.

Southern:

One of my pets, a Taurus 26 years older than I am.  I don’t mean a pet in the sense of a puppy or pony or any of that.  But I have a few pets scattered all over the place, and he’s one of them.  I met him when I was a ProDomme living in Alabama.  And he was one of the very, very few reasons I was slightly bummed to come back to Vegas.

Luckily, he travels to Vegas at least once a year, so I have an opportunity to see him when he’s in town, and I always look forward to that.  Seeing him is always amazing, and he’s a lot of fun to be with, whether we’re just hanging out at the mall, or whether I’m putting things inside him and making him squirm.

We have a lot in common outside of kink, so our conversations range from sex to music to work, to really anything, and they last for hours.

Sadie:

A Domme friend of mine, the only person I’ve ever met with a sadistic streak to rival my own.  She taught me how to do needle play, sutures, and staples, and she’s just an awesome person all the way around.

She and her husband host play parties twice a month, and it’s a great opportunity to hang out with other people in the lifestyle, make new friends, and just have fun.

Kiki:

Another Domme friend, and one of the leaders of the Domme group we used to run in town.  She’s always fun to hang around with.

Mal:

Sadie’s husband, and the only male Dom living that I like.  He’s quite knowledgeable in D/s, and has a sadistic streak of his own.  He taught me fireplay, and I do enjoy talking to him and hanging out with him.

Sonic:

One of Sadie’s play partners, and the one who volunteered to be my guinea pig when Sadie taught me needle play.  We went to high school together and were both active in theater.  He’s dating a vanilla woman, and is currently unable to participate in play, but he’s still a lot of fun to talk to.

Pet:

A teenage switch under my protection.  He’s absolutely adorable, a lot of fun to hang out with, and a lot of fun to hurt.  He’s homosexual, and panromantic, and a sweet masochist that makes the cutest sounds when he’s in pain.  He was the first boy I set on fire.  Now, I’m training him to be a Dom.

Puppy:

Kazander’s girlfriend and submissive.

The Body:

My ex-boyfriend, an attractive, well-endowed man with no social skills.  He has no tact, and was always unintentionally condescending and rude.  And the constant nagging and hounding to get in my pants, and the whining when he wasn’t the center of my world got old fast.

Sissy:

One of my old play partners, a sweet boy five years younger than I am, with a fantastic sense of humor and a big heart.  He really went above and beyond my expectations time and time again, and went out of his way to serve me.

He had some pretty significant personal shit go down that would’ve messed with anyone pretty badly.  He’s an Aquarius, like me, and I know that when I’m upset, I want to be left alone.  So when he pulled away, I gave him his space.  If he decides to reach out again, I’ll of course be there for him, but I won’t push him.

Zane:

Another old play partner.  He started to feel uncomfortable with the poly aspect, so it didn’t work out.

The Virgin:

An old play partner, the youngest, at 20 years old.  He’s the first male to ever touch Kazander, but the bi element I wanted in the relationship was something he wasn’t comfortable with.

The Nerd:

An old play partner, brand new to the scene, adorable and nervous and shy.  He was also ultimately uncomfortable with the bi element.

Ash:

An old play partner, that I’ve actually known longer than I’ve known Kazander.  But he has proven himself to be a flake, and wanted a degree of micromanagement that I just am not interested in.

Chevy:

A good friend, who shares my love of Tarot, astrology, and all that fun stuff.  His ex boyfriend, Ford, asked me to carry a child for the two of them.  It didn’t work out, and thank God, because Ford went off the deep end shortly after.

Ford:

Chevy’s ex boyfriend.  They had been together for 12 years, and Ford asked me to carry a child for the two of them.  It ultimately didn’t happen, and a few months later, Ford broke up with Chevy, completely out of the blue, and broke off contact with a lot of his friends.  He got ultra Christian, and ultra Republican, and I don’t really talk to him anymore.

B:

My first serious boyfriend.  I started dating him just after I graduated high school.  He was my best friend’s dad.  I was 18, he was 44, and we dated for a year.  He pulled me out of the dark place I was in at that point and brought me back to life.

Eddie:

My mentor, the man who introduced me to this life.  He was a bisexual leather Daddy, a member of an Old Guard House, and very much into the leather and Old Guard subculture.  I met him shortly after joining an online BDSM chatroom when I was 16.  He was in his forties, and became my first real love (although we were never romantically or physically involved, because I was underage).

He began informally training me in the Old Guard protocol.  I never officially joined an Old Guard House, a) because of my age, b) because to join an Old Guard House, all members must start out as submissive, and c) the Old Guard culture was basically dead at that point, anyway.

We used his wife or my boyfriends as guinea pigs, and he taught me much over the course of the next three years.  Then, he and his wife moved away, and while we were always fond of each other, we sort of drifted apart.  He passed away when I was 23.

Breaking Boys Reprised

I received this comment on my Breaking Boys post, from Marci, and decided to answer it in a post, rather than as a comment.  Because I’m long-winded to begin with, and the answer to this is going to get long.

I understand the general concept of “breaking” a submissive, but can’t really picture what it is you, or even another domme, are actually doing. What I don’t quite get is what you are doing physically that actually scares them to the point of uncontrolled crying. I assume that you have them restrained and possibly gagged and blindfolded and are trying to cause pain of some sort using corporal punishment such as caning or even pegging. I’m also assuming that you are doing some sort of “mind fuck” during the physical play. Is there something more that I’m missing? I’m especially wondering about what constitutes “brutal sadism”. Is it a matter of threatening a hard limit or even crossing the line on a serious soft limit? I’m also assuming that you wouldn’t, for example, be pulling out someone’s finger nails or doing a complete burdizzo clamping. But something like actually doing a nipple piercing or banding might be within the realm of possibilities? I realize that every person is different, but is it possible for you to describe or give examples of such “play”?’ Ommiting unnecessary personal details, of course. Or have I missed the point entirely?
I find what you describe and your philosophy to be facinating, although it is sometmes a challenge to get my head wrapped around it. To give you context, my partner and I don’t play with pain. When we do use restraints it’s in a sensual context so that the bottom that night can’t escape and use their own hands.
Sorry if I am verbose. Thanks

Hi, Marci.  Thanks for reading, and thanks for the comment.  I’d be more than happy to explain a bit more about what it is I do.  Although I can’t speak for other Dommes, and I’ve never heard anyone else talk about going as deep in the mind as I go.  So I can only speak for myself and what I do.

What I don’t quite get is what you are doing physically that actually scares them to the point of uncontrolled crying.

The quick and grossly over-simplified answer to this is…. nothing.  I mean, yes, there is a lot of physical pain and discomfort involved in the process, but that’s not what overwhelms them, and that’s absolutely not what scares them.

What ends up being far more uncomfortable, and far more terrifying than the physical pain is what I’m doing mentally.  And I’ll try to explain that as best I can.  I’m not going to provide specific examples of this part because of how personal it is.  But the simplest way to explain it is that everyone has things they don’t want anyone else to know.

Maybe the assertive, confident person has crippling insecurity if you dig deep enough.  Maybe the adrenaline junkie is terrified of many things, but none more so than weakness, so pushes themselves to do more, to prove to themselves that they can.  Maybe someone struggles with regret.  Maybe someone hates themselves with a vehemence you didn’t think possible.

Everyone has things they hide.  Everyone has things they don’t want brought into the light.  Skeletons, memories, demons, whatever.

And the existence of those things is not a problem.  The process of breaking a boy, of taking those things in him and laying them out in the light diminishes their influence over him, anyway.  When I build him back up, he’s stronger than he was before, in great part because of that diminished influence.  He has less demons than he did before, and the ones he still has are weaker than they were before.

The problem arises when I want to take someone deeper, and because they’re so worried about hiding those things, or they’re laboring under some sweet-but-horribly-misguided notion that they need to protect me, or they worry about how I’ll see them, whether I’ll judge them, or insert-reason-here and I find myself constantly bumping up against those mental walls.  It makes things annoying   complicated   annoyingly complicated.

They learn one of my favorite lessons, and they hear me say one of my favorite sayings.

Trusting me with your body is easy.  Trusting me with your mind is something else entirely.

And eventually, I reach a point where I just can’t go any farther.  I can’t go any deeper.  The intensity sort of fizzles out.  I can’t keep him off balance anymore.  I can still keep the relationship going, but it’s not really going anywhere.  Like running in place.

So I break them.

Once I’ve broken them, they literally have nothing to hide.  There’s no reason for them to try and keep me out, or to resist me.  I’ve already seen the skeletons in their closet, I’ve had tea with their demons, I’ve seen every flaw, every weakness, every fear.

So most of it is mental.  I use the physical to get them in the headspace where I want them, and often I’ll use it to push them over the edge, but it’s more about the effect that the pain has on them than the pain itself.

Hell, I can overwhelm a boy and make him cry from nothing more than an over-the-knee spanking if I have the map I mentioned in that post (although bringing him to the point of tears and breaking him are two very, very different things.  Breaking him always makes him cry, but making him cry doesn’t mean you’ve broken him).

So again, it’s not so much what I’m doing physically that breaks them.  All three of my boys are pretty tough, and those walls are high.  It’s going to take (and in Kazander’s case, it did take) a hell of a lot more than just physical pain to do it.

I’m especially wondering about what constitutes “brutal sadism”. Is it a matter of threatening a hard limit or even crossing the line on a serious soft limit?

Absolutely not, no.  I never, ever, ever threaten a hard limit during a session, and will very rarely (if ever) threaten a soft limit without discussing it first.  I’ve always thought that was unethical, and even when I switched with Kazander, and he would occasionally do that (he’s not a Dom, he didn’t know), and it would completely derail any attempt I made at getting into a submissive headspace and slam me right back into my normal state of mind.

If I’m doing something that’s right on the edge of what he can handle, working with strong emotions like fear or anger, threatening a hard limit, or threatening a soft limit out of the blue would have the exact opposite effect of what I want.  It would slam him into survival mode, completely shut down the submissive mindset, and throw all those walls right back up.

When I talk about brutal sadism, I’m thinking more along the lines of this:

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Or this:

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Now I have done a bit worse than this, but this level of pain is not always necessary to break a boy.  It wasn’t necessary to break Kazander.  Again, it’s less about the physical.  But a long, intense spanking/flogging/caning can really soften up a reluctant boy’s mind if done correctly.

A piercing or branding as an aspect of the breaking session itself could be fun, but I’m not a piercer and don’t have the skill or equipment necessary to keep everything sterile and safe. The last thing I want is to give any boy I’m playing with an infection.

I’ve actually played with the idea of doing a Jacob’s Ladder as part of the breaking session, and have considered it more than once, with more than one boy.  I haven’t gone through with it because a) most piercers won’t pierce in someone’s home, b) most piercers won’t pierce someone who may not want to be pierced, c) the presence of someone else would seriously fuck up the headspace I’m trying to keep the boy in, d) it has a high likelihood of fucking up the rhythm of the session itself, and like a dozen more reasons.

Bottom line:  It’s possible, I suppose.  But not really worth the effort.

So no, I don’t think you’ve missed the point.  But I think you put too much emphasis on the physical, when that’s not my main priority.

Don’t get me wrong, it does play a big role, and yes, there’s often bondage/gags/blindfolds/all kinds of fun toys to make things more interesting.  But that’s not where the majority of my focus is.  It’s more to add another texture to the ride I’m taking him on.