After keeping the same layout for about 2 years, today I found myself browsing though the template gallery that Blogger offers. It turns out that it is really easy to alter the look of your weblog! I clicked though the templates, changed a colour here or there, found myself a new background image and thought that this looked very nice and classy at the same time. Of course, I am also a big fan of the colour red for reasons which probably need no explanation!
So, what do you think of what I've done with the place?
Friday, 12 August 2011
Wednesday, 10 August 2011
100 followers
My my...100 followers. I must have done something right to have so many follow me. Thank you, everyone!
When I started this little weblog, I had no real idea what I wanted to say or if anyone would be interested in what I was saying. Apparently, it does appeal to some people and that is a real encouragement to continue blogging.
When I started this little weblog, I had no real idea what I wanted to say or if anyone would be interested in what I was saying. Apparently, it does appeal to some people and that is a real encouragement to continue blogging.
Did you celebrate Consensual Spanking Day?
Since the year 2006 apparently, August 8 has been celebrated as Consensual Spanking Day, especially with Spanish speaking spankos (oh, nice alliteration!). Why August 8? Well, if written as such: (8/8), those numbers look something like a shapely bottom. Did you remember to celebrate and if so, how did you?
Robert and I did celebrate. Not that I need an excuse to spank him, certainly not. But it was nice to have a reason. The entire day I hinted at the fact that he would get his bottom smacked in the evening. He was nice and ready for it when the time came. I am sure he expected a paddle, a hairbrush or maybe even the cane. However, I had decided that this was going to be a really old-fashioned hand spanking. It had been a while since I had just used my hand and I really felt like doing it again. It felt really nice to take him over my knee, like a naughty little boy. His pants and panties were around his ankles, it took some time to adjust him so that his chastity device wasn't digging into my thigh. I took my time, admiring the view of his pert cheeks, nicely round and still without any blemish. I reminded him that his nice milky-white flesh was soon going to be burning red and hot. I love a little pre-spanking tease, to remind him of his humble position.
I didn't start out too hard, just planting stinging slaps all over his cheeks and the back of his thighs. He felt them, but this wasn't punishment of course. He even pushed his bottom up to meet my hand, the little slut. Pretty soon though, I had him wriggling and making noise. Who ever said that a woman can't spank a man to breaking point with just her hand, has never been over my knee, I assure you. This wasn't about spanking him that hard or that far though. I wanted to make it last.
I spanked him in stages, gently rubbing him in between. I even applied baby oil at one point, which was probably a bit mean, since it soothes after being applied but as soon as the spanking begins again, it makes it all the more painful. Still, Robert felt the pain but it definitely wasn't too much. He yelped and squirmed but his bottom stayed perfectly in position. He even parted his legs somewhat. Reaching between his legs, I prodded and squeezed his full balls, teasing him. Asking him if he craved being unlocked. He did, of course. Well, that wasn't going to happen today. I gave his full and aching balls a good squeeze and finished the spanking with a long and hard crescendo. His yelps, in earnest this time, and the slapping noise echoed off of our walls.
When it was all over, Robert's rear was very red and very hot to the touch, as a well spanked bottom should be. I ordered him off my knee and on his knees on the floor. He placed his head on my thigh and seemed to be in a very happy and content place. I allowed him to enjoy that for a few moments as I stroked his hair. Then it was time for him to take me to a happy and content place...
Perhaps every day should be Consensual Spanking Day?
Robert and I did celebrate. Not that I need an excuse to spank him, certainly not. But it was nice to have a reason. The entire day I hinted at the fact that he would get his bottom smacked in the evening. He was nice and ready for it when the time came. I am sure he expected a paddle, a hairbrush or maybe even the cane. However, I had decided that this was going to be a really old-fashioned hand spanking. It had been a while since I had just used my hand and I really felt like doing it again. It felt really nice to take him over my knee, like a naughty little boy. His pants and panties were around his ankles, it took some time to adjust him so that his chastity device wasn't digging into my thigh. I took my time, admiring the view of his pert cheeks, nicely round and still without any blemish. I reminded him that his nice milky-white flesh was soon going to be burning red and hot. I love a little pre-spanking tease, to remind him of his humble position.
I didn't start out too hard, just planting stinging slaps all over his cheeks and the back of his thighs. He felt them, but this wasn't punishment of course. He even pushed his bottom up to meet my hand, the little slut. Pretty soon though, I had him wriggling and making noise. Who ever said that a woman can't spank a man to breaking point with just her hand, has never been over my knee, I assure you. This wasn't about spanking him that hard or that far though. I wanted to make it last.
I spanked him in stages, gently rubbing him in between. I even applied baby oil at one point, which was probably a bit mean, since it soothes after being applied but as soon as the spanking begins again, it makes it all the more painful. Still, Robert felt the pain but it definitely wasn't too much. He yelped and squirmed but his bottom stayed perfectly in position. He even parted his legs somewhat. Reaching between his legs, I prodded and squeezed his full balls, teasing him. Asking him if he craved being unlocked. He did, of course. Well, that wasn't going to happen today. I gave his full and aching balls a good squeeze and finished the spanking with a long and hard crescendo. His yelps, in earnest this time, and the slapping noise echoed off of our walls.
When it was all over, Robert's rear was very red and very hot to the touch, as a well spanked bottom should be. I ordered him off my knee and on his knees on the floor. He placed his head on my thigh and seemed to be in a very happy and content place. I allowed him to enjoy that for a few moments as I stroked his hair. Then it was time for him to take me to a happy and content place...
Perhaps every day should be Consensual Spanking Day?
Wednesday, 27 July 2011
The right mindset
This post is directed at women who are not adverse to being a Domme, who are willing to try it out but are not sure if they can be or even play dominant. I hope some of this advice will be useful to you, because I tend to receive a few questions on how to become a Domme. Being dominant is mostly a state of mind, an act, a role that you play. Playing a role does not automatically change you into that role. But it can help you with establishing dominance.
One of the most difficult things, especially for a woman just setting out on the path towards dominance, is to find the right mindset. Dominance is not in your body or in your appearance. It is in your mind. A petite and fragile woman can be extremely dominant when she knows herself to be dominant in her mind. She has to be convinced that she exudes dominance. If you can convince yourself that you are dominant and that what you say, carries with it an air of confidence, you are already halfway there. If you doubt your own dominance, or are not confident in it you can not be an effective Domme. So how do you go about being confident or at least faking your own confidence if you are just beginning?
Well, it may sound corny but a lot of it begins with posture and stance. A Domme does not simply stand. She stands upright, her shoulders back and her chin up proudly. Try it out and you will feel your confidence building automatically. Breathe deeply and slowly so you calm yourself down. Next, there is walking. A dominant lady does not walk, she strides. Try walking slowly, planting your feed purposefully. Walk upright, looking around. Always remember that a Domme stands and walks upright with a straight spine. This will give you a feeling of power and confidence automatically. And don't forget, it will make you look confident and powerful too. Try slowly walking in a circle around a man who is on his knees. It will be very difficult not to feel some sort of rush of power.
Speech is vitally important. If you are just starting out, you may feel very awkward telling a man what to do. This can make your voice soft, timid and your speech unsure. Fortunately, you can also fake confidence here. Start out by only giving short instructions telling him what to do, don't hold long speeches. Don't allow him to look directly at you, instead make him look at the floor, your feet or something like that. By avoiding direct eye contact, it will be easier and less confrontational for you to give commands. While a powerful, dominant gaze may be what you want, this method will give you some time to develop it. Should he look up despite being instructed not to, don't stare him down if you're not feeling confident. Instead, a simple slap to his face will be enough. It doesn't have to be hard for it to startle him and remind him of his position.
At the same time, don't allow him to speak. He will have to answer when asked a question but he should not be allowed to speak out of his own. This will ensure you don't have a big mouth or awkward questions. Most submissive men will easily accept this instruction.
Next, make him take a position that shows he is submissive. Especially if you are petite and the man in question is big. Simply telling a big, strong man to kneel so that you can look down on him, will give you a feeling of confidence. You may ask yourself why the man in question would even consider obeying you. After all, he is much bigger and stronger than you. Never forget that in his heart, he wishes you to take charge. He wishes to obey you. He wishes that you tell him what to do. Otherwise he would not even be there with you. The power exchange is always a matter of give and take. He gives you the power and authority and he expects you to accept it and assume the authority. As long as you remember that he longs to obey you, you will be fine.
Dress is an important aspect of asserting dominance. Don't worry, you don't have to be a leather-clad, whip wielding, booted vixen. Try to go instead for a business like look. Dress in a strong colour like dark grey or black. A simple white blouse over a black pencil skirt is more than enough. It looks strict and stylish at the same time. There's no need to dress in anything sexy. Most submissive men would not need that anyway. For them, the Domme is someone they should not see as a sex object. The Domme is a woman to be respected and somewhat feared. Proper dress will help them to create and strengthen that image of you.
On the other end of the spectrum is the submissive. While you remain dressed, stern looking and aloof, you can widen the power gap by having him undress. The clothed female, naked male concept can work wonders for you here. It's difficult for him to feel anything but humbled if he is in the presence of a dressed woman and he himself is naked and on his knees.
By playing the dominant role more often, you become better at it. It will start to feel more natural and before long, it will no longer be simply a role. The things you tried to do will become more comfortable and more natural to you. As you see that your dominance is accepted as a matter of course by a submissive man, your confidence will grow and while you may still resort to any and/or all of the above devices, you will no longer have to rely on them.
In summary, use of the following devices will help you establish dominance and allow you to assume dominance more naturally:
One of the most difficult things, especially for a woman just setting out on the path towards dominance, is to find the right mindset. Dominance is not in your body or in your appearance. It is in your mind. A petite and fragile woman can be extremely dominant when she knows herself to be dominant in her mind. She has to be convinced that she exudes dominance. If you can convince yourself that you are dominant and that what you say, carries with it an air of confidence, you are already halfway there. If you doubt your own dominance, or are not confident in it you can not be an effective Domme. So how do you go about being confident or at least faking your own confidence if you are just beginning?
Well, it may sound corny but a lot of it begins with posture and stance. A Domme does not simply stand. She stands upright, her shoulders back and her chin up proudly. Try it out and you will feel your confidence building automatically. Breathe deeply and slowly so you calm yourself down. Next, there is walking. A dominant lady does not walk, she strides. Try walking slowly, planting your feed purposefully. Walk upright, looking around. Always remember that a Domme stands and walks upright with a straight spine. This will give you a feeling of power and confidence automatically. And don't forget, it will make you look confident and powerful too. Try slowly walking in a circle around a man who is on his knees. It will be very difficult not to feel some sort of rush of power.
Speech is vitally important. If you are just starting out, you may feel very awkward telling a man what to do. This can make your voice soft, timid and your speech unsure. Fortunately, you can also fake confidence here. Start out by only giving short instructions telling him what to do, don't hold long speeches. Don't allow him to look directly at you, instead make him look at the floor, your feet or something like that. By avoiding direct eye contact, it will be easier and less confrontational for you to give commands. While a powerful, dominant gaze may be what you want, this method will give you some time to develop it. Should he look up despite being instructed not to, don't stare him down if you're not feeling confident. Instead, a simple slap to his face will be enough. It doesn't have to be hard for it to startle him and remind him of his position.
At the same time, don't allow him to speak. He will have to answer when asked a question but he should not be allowed to speak out of his own. This will ensure you don't have a big mouth or awkward questions. Most submissive men will easily accept this instruction.
Next, make him take a position that shows he is submissive. Especially if you are petite and the man in question is big. Simply telling a big, strong man to kneel so that you can look down on him, will give you a feeling of confidence. You may ask yourself why the man in question would even consider obeying you. After all, he is much bigger and stronger than you. Never forget that in his heart, he wishes you to take charge. He wishes to obey you. He wishes that you tell him what to do. Otherwise he would not even be there with you. The power exchange is always a matter of give and take. He gives you the power and authority and he expects you to accept it and assume the authority. As long as you remember that he longs to obey you, you will be fine.
Dress is an important aspect of asserting dominance. Don't worry, you don't have to be a leather-clad, whip wielding, booted vixen. Try to go instead for a business like look. Dress in a strong colour like dark grey or black. A simple white blouse over a black pencil skirt is more than enough. It looks strict and stylish at the same time. There's no need to dress in anything sexy. Most submissive men would not need that anyway. For them, the Domme is someone they should not see as a sex object. The Domme is a woman to be respected and somewhat feared. Proper dress will help them to create and strengthen that image of you.
On the other end of the spectrum is the submissive. While you remain dressed, stern looking and aloof, you can widen the power gap by having him undress. The clothed female, naked male concept can work wonders for you here. It's difficult for him to feel anything but humbled if he is in the presence of a dressed woman and he himself is naked and on his knees.
By playing the dominant role more often, you become better at it. It will start to feel more natural and before long, it will no longer be simply a role. The things you tried to do will become more comfortable and more natural to you. As you see that your dominance is accepted as a matter of course by a submissive man, your confidence will grow and while you may still resort to any and/or all of the above devices, you will no longer have to rely on them.
In summary, use of the following devices will help you establish dominance and allow you to assume dominance more naturally:
- Posture and stance
Keep your back straight and stand tall, keeping your chin up - Stride, don't just walk
Try to walk slowly, purposefully - Speak in short commands at first
You speak, he does only when asked a direct question - Avoid direct eye contact by making him look down
It will make you feel at ease when he is not staring at you - Submissive posture
If you are looking down on him literally, it is easier to be dominant - Dress for power
You look strong in your business-like clothes, he is naked - Practice
Do it often enough and it will start to feel more natural
Oh, and perhaps the most important thing to remember is, try to have fun. Sure, you may not get it right but that is no reason to become disappointed. No one was born the perfect Domme. We all learn by doing and along the way, we make mistakes. So if both of you end up on the floor in a laughing fit because during your purposeful stride you tripped, that is fine too. As with all things in life, practice makes perfect but if it is not fun, you will lose interest. I can honestly say that assuming a dominant role can be a very rewarding experience. There is something very beautiful in seeing a strong man yield to your desires. This does not mean that he is weak or worthless. It simply means that he values your desires over his and that takes a very strong and decent man. Physically, you may look down on your submissive but in your mind you should honour and respect him. After all, what good is it being dominant if there is no one for you to dominate?
Friday, 15 July 2011
Female supremacy
A while back, a reader sent me an email, asking me how I feel about female supremacy. I sent him a reply explaining my feelings but because this wasn't the first time that question came up, I decided to write an entry on my blog about it too. You see, I feel very strongly about female supremacy. Strongly in the sense that I detest the idea of female supremacy. I detest it with a passion. The idea that anyone, by birth, should be superior to someone else gives me the willies. Just because I turned out to be female, I would therefor be somehow better than men? It's ridiculous. Replace the word "female" with the word "white" in that sentence and you'll get an idea of how silly the idea is. Nowadays, virtually no one would publicly call themselves superior because they were born white, would they? And that's a good thing!
Don't get me wrong, I know it is a very attractive fantasy for some. And of course there's nothing wrong with indulging in a little fantasy. Because let's face it, much of BDSM and sex in general, is based in or at least spiced by fantasy. It's not the people that fantasize about female supremacy that concern me, but the people who actually believe in it, do.
As a species, we need both sexes. Both men and women have been given certain traits and qualities that complement each other and that are necessary for our survival. They were in prehistoric times and they still are today. If we don't have both sexes, our species would not survive very long because as far as I know, no woman has ever given birth to a child without a man being involved somehow. Okay, some may believe there's an exception but even then, one child every 2000 years or so would do little for our overall survival potential. There are some qualities where one sex may be superior to the other, for instance men usually have superior strength, woman have superior communication skills. Neither upper body strength nor communication makes a sex superior across the board. I don't care much for this "battle of the sexes" notion. I believe that men and women need each other as men and women.
Some might argue that because I am a Domme, I am automatically a superior woman because I place myself over the people I dominate. I feel that that is not true either. As a Domme (and I think any good Domme would agree with me) I don't place myself above others. Rather, those that choose to submit to me, voluntarily place themselves under my will. That's a big difference to me. The submission is an active, voluntary act on the part of the submissive. I am the superior, by their choice. So logically, if they choose me as their superior, I can only remain being their superior as long as they are still behind that choice. The moment they are no longer behind that choice, I will be unable to be their superior. If someone can make that choice, how can there be any real superiority?
Don't get me wrong, I know it is a very attractive fantasy for some. And of course there's nothing wrong with indulging in a little fantasy. Because let's face it, much of BDSM and sex in general, is based in or at least spiced by fantasy. It's not the people that fantasize about female supremacy that concern me, but the people who actually believe in it, do.
As a species, we need both sexes. Both men and women have been given certain traits and qualities that complement each other and that are necessary for our survival. They were in prehistoric times and they still are today. If we don't have both sexes, our species would not survive very long because as far as I know, no woman has ever given birth to a child without a man being involved somehow. Okay, some may believe there's an exception but even then, one child every 2000 years or so would do little for our overall survival potential. There are some qualities where one sex may be superior to the other, for instance men usually have superior strength, woman have superior communication skills. Neither upper body strength nor communication makes a sex superior across the board. I don't care much for this "battle of the sexes" notion. I believe that men and women need each other as men and women.
Some might argue that because I am a Domme, I am automatically a superior woman because I place myself over the people I dominate. I feel that that is not true either. As a Domme (and I think any good Domme would agree with me) I don't place myself above others. Rather, those that choose to submit to me, voluntarily place themselves under my will. That's a big difference to me. The submission is an active, voluntary act on the part of the submissive. I am the superior, by their choice. So logically, if they choose me as their superior, I can only remain being their superior as long as they are still behind that choice. The moment they are no longer behind that choice, I will be unable to be their superior. If someone can make that choice, how can there be any real superiority?
Thursday, 16 June 2011
Barbara's mailbag
I have been getting lots of interesting email since I started my weblog and I thought I would share some of that with you. Of course I will preserve the anonymity of the sender. First of all, let's start with a big no-no when writing to a Domme.
How not to talk to a Domme
I like to think of myself as fairly accessible and easy-going as a Domme. I certainly don't expect people who write me to grovel or beg for anything. Just a polite message will do. I do however have some standards and some messages just rub me the wrong way. The example below left me flabbergasted behind my PC. Allow me to quote one line from this message:
"Let me know what part of the country you live, so I can deceide if I can travel to you."
Excuse me? I won't mention the spelling mistake or the fact that you don't even know what country I am in, but did you just tell me what to do? And you can decide if you can travel to me? What makes you think I'd be willing to see you in the first place, let alone spank you? If there's anyone going to be deciding anything around here, it will be me. And you do not invite yourself, I will invite you. Guys, I know communicating is difficult for most of you, but do try harder than the author of this message, please?
Can I be your slave?
I've gotten several of these messages and first of all, I have to say that it is flattering to read them. I mean that sincerely. However, I do not take slaves, not in the bdsm sense of the word. I am not a mistress, not a slave owner. I do not own my submissive. Rather, he submits to me out of his own free will, because he wants to. I accept his submission as a gift.
That being said, right now I am not in the market for an additional submissive. Certainly not in real life. I have thought about taking an online submissive but at the moment I would have too little time for him or her. Should that change however, I will let you all know here.
How do I get my wife to dominate me?
I received this question several times and I'm sorry to say that there is no easy answer. You know your wife best, supposedly. So the one most ideally suited to answer that question is you yourself. Every person is different but I suppose she will fall in one of the categories below:
If she falls in the third category, you may be in luck. She might find some things about the lifestyle that she likes but I doubt she will be willing to live the lifestyle. She may also find that she does not like it, in which case you will be out of luck, probably.
If she is willing to play, you are in luck. She may be doing it just for you, humoring you or she may actually find some satisfaction in it. Over time, she could grow into quite the Domme!
Glad to play, well, then you have probably awoken a monster and there's no saving you now!
I don't think it is possible to turn a woman into a Domme. If you are a submissive man in a relationship with a vanilla woman, one who is truly vanilla and not just out of touch with her own desires, you will most likely never get her to help you out with your desires. She may not even want to listen to them. I know that's not what you want to hear and I wish with all my heart it were different, but sadly I think it isn't. If it's not in her, then no amount of explaining, dropping hints and pleading is going to make her a real Domme. She may humor you on occasion by playing along, but I doubt it will be satisfactory for either of you. Worse still, she may begin to hate doing it.
That being said, I think there are probably a great many women out there who are very dominant and who have the potential to grow into good Dommes but they're either afraid of those feelings, they may feel it is not womanlike to be in charge. Others may even be afraid of those feelings of wanting to be in control. Women have been conditioned by society for such a long time that many may feel it is wrong to be a strong, independent, sexual woman.
If your wife is of the dominant variety, and she may well be if you have submissive tendencies, chances are there is a different approach to achieving her to be your Domme. It is a subtle path, not a straight road towards a goal, though. However, I think it may be a workable solution for those who know that their wives are not ready to listen or are afraid to approach the subject openly.
Even without her knowing about it, you can still submit to her. Whenever she asks you to do something, you do it right away. Even better, you try to anticipate what she wants and do it before she asks. If she's upset with you, you apologize to her, even if you feel you don't have to. Sexually, you take care of her needs before you think of yourself. I'm not telling you to become a doormat, you can still make your own opinion known, but in the end, you let her decide. She decides what's on TV, what restaurant you go to and where the holidays take place. In time she may grow used to you obeying her. She may begin to feel it is the natural state of things. Perhaps then, you can introduce some other aspects of the lifestyle to her. Always remember though, her needs and wants come first.
I am not saying that this is a perfect approach, I am not saying that yes, she will always turn into a Domme if you follow this advice. She may not even like you obeying her! I am saying that it may make the introduction of the lifestyle easier and her more willing to accept things. As always, you know your wife (or girlfriend) best and only you can decide best which approach to take.
Can you teach my wife to dominate me?
Sorry, but I can't do that. I don't have the time nor do I know your wife.
That concludes a little stroll through my mailbox, just in case you were wondering what kinds of messages a Domme gets when she goes public. I have left out the more inappropriate ones, though. You won't believe what some people write me or ask of me!
How not to talk to a Domme
I like to think of myself as fairly accessible and easy-going as a Domme. I certainly don't expect people who write me to grovel or beg for anything. Just a polite message will do. I do however have some standards and some messages just rub me the wrong way. The example below left me flabbergasted behind my PC. Allow me to quote one line from this message:
"Let me know what part of the country you live, so I can deceide if I can travel to you."
Excuse me? I won't mention the spelling mistake or the fact that you don't even know what country I am in, but did you just tell me what to do? And you can decide if you can travel to me? What makes you think I'd be willing to see you in the first place, let alone spank you? If there's anyone going to be deciding anything around here, it will be me. And you do not invite yourself, I will invite you. Guys, I know communicating is difficult for most of you, but do try harder than the author of this message, please?
Can I be your slave?
I've gotten several of these messages and first of all, I have to say that it is flattering to read them. I mean that sincerely. However, I do not take slaves, not in the bdsm sense of the word. I am not a mistress, not a slave owner. I do not own my submissive. Rather, he submits to me out of his own free will, because he wants to. I accept his submission as a gift.
That being said, right now I am not in the market for an additional submissive. Certainly not in real life. I have thought about taking an online submissive but at the moment I would have too little time for him or her. Should that change however, I will let you all know here.
How do I get my wife to dominate me?
I received this question several times and I'm sorry to say that there is no easy answer. You know your wife best, supposedly. So the one most ideally suited to answer that question is you yourself. Every person is different but I suppose she will fall in one of the categories below:
- Not interested in anything kinky
- Willing to listen
- Willing to experiment
- Willing to play
- Glad to play
If she falls in the third category, you may be in luck. She might find some things about the lifestyle that she likes but I doubt she will be willing to live the lifestyle. She may also find that she does not like it, in which case you will be out of luck, probably.
If she is willing to play, you are in luck. She may be doing it just for you, humoring you or she may actually find some satisfaction in it. Over time, she could grow into quite the Domme!
Glad to play, well, then you have probably awoken a monster and there's no saving you now!
I don't think it is possible to turn a woman into a Domme. If you are a submissive man in a relationship with a vanilla woman, one who is truly vanilla and not just out of touch with her own desires, you will most likely never get her to help you out with your desires. She may not even want to listen to them. I know that's not what you want to hear and I wish with all my heart it were different, but sadly I think it isn't. If it's not in her, then no amount of explaining, dropping hints and pleading is going to make her a real Domme. She may humor you on occasion by playing along, but I doubt it will be satisfactory for either of you. Worse still, she may begin to hate doing it.
That being said, I think there are probably a great many women out there who are very dominant and who have the potential to grow into good Dommes but they're either afraid of those feelings, they may feel it is not womanlike to be in charge. Others may even be afraid of those feelings of wanting to be in control. Women have been conditioned by society for such a long time that many may feel it is wrong to be a strong, independent, sexual woman.
If your wife is of the dominant variety, and she may well be if you have submissive tendencies, chances are there is a different approach to achieving her to be your Domme. It is a subtle path, not a straight road towards a goal, though. However, I think it may be a workable solution for those who know that their wives are not ready to listen or are afraid to approach the subject openly.
Even without her knowing about it, you can still submit to her. Whenever she asks you to do something, you do it right away. Even better, you try to anticipate what she wants and do it before she asks. If she's upset with you, you apologize to her, even if you feel you don't have to. Sexually, you take care of her needs before you think of yourself. I'm not telling you to become a doormat, you can still make your own opinion known, but in the end, you let her decide. She decides what's on TV, what restaurant you go to and where the holidays take place. In time she may grow used to you obeying her. She may begin to feel it is the natural state of things. Perhaps then, you can introduce some other aspects of the lifestyle to her. Always remember though, her needs and wants come first.
I am not saying that this is a perfect approach, I am not saying that yes, she will always turn into a Domme if you follow this advice. She may not even like you obeying her! I am saying that it may make the introduction of the lifestyle easier and her more willing to accept things. As always, you know your wife (or girlfriend) best and only you can decide best which approach to take.
Can you teach my wife to dominate me?
Sorry, but I can't do that. I don't have the time nor do I know your wife.
That concludes a little stroll through my mailbox, just in case you were wondering what kinds of messages a Domme gets when she goes public. I have left out the more inappropriate ones, though. You won't believe what some people write me or ask of me!
Wednesday, 8 June 2011
I caned a girl and I liked it
You may remember that a while ago (quite a while ago actually), I wrote about meeting a young couple during our holiday, who were also in the lifestyle. When they left the resort we were staying at, we exchanged email addresses and we have kept in touch during the past months. As it turned out they don't live that far away, only a few hours driving. Between then and now, we have met several times and I dare to say that we have become quite good friends despite the distance. I realize that I shall have to give them names, so as to easily identify them for you if I'm going to be talking about them. Let's call them Mark and Jessica, though those are not their real names. Mark does something really difficult and demanding with computers and networks, which I am not going even going to try explaining, because I simply don't comprehend it. She works part time in law, so both have good jobs. As she works part time, she is also responsible for most of the domestic chores, which he makes more "interesting" at times by adding bondage, clips, clamps and such.
Pretty early on, Jessica admitted that she was interested in experiencing a caning administered by a woman. She was terribly afraid of the cane yet it was one of her favorite fantasies as well. A contradiction that is not uncommon in subs, as I understand it. Since I am the only dominant woman she knows and since I am somewhat of a self-taught expert when it comes to caning (the cane being a favorite instrument of mine), she quite naturally thought about me doing it. She asked her dominant if he thought it was okay and he had no objections to it. And because Jessica is a woman, Robert also had little qualms about me administering a caning. I have to admit that I was very curious and eager to try it myself, because I had never played with a female submissive before. We set a date for our next meeting and it was determined that Jessica would receive her caning then. She had a nervous wait of almost four weeks during which the anticipation rose to feverish levels sometimes, as she later told me.
When we finally met and had the freshening up and initial coffee behind us, I decided that it was time to administer the cane. We had agreed that there would be no men present, it would be just us ladies. Robert took Mark for a drink to a local cafe so we would have the house to ourselves. Just as well, because I felt nearly as nervous as Jessica about our little experiment. I had carefully chosen the place where everything would happen, a room on our upper floor with a sofa that has high armrests where a submissive can lie over, having the bottom as the uppermost part of the body, nicely presented. I made Jessica walk up the stairs in front of me. In the room, a cane had been placed on the sofa already. She was positively shaking when she entered the room and saw it there. Aware of how nervous she was feeling, I felt I had to try and reassure her somewhat. I explained to her that the caning she was about to receive was in no way a punishment. There was no minimum of strokes and she could end it at any time by simply asking me to stop. I made sure she understood those things before proceeding.
Much to her surprise, I ordered her over my knee first. I had decided to give her a good warm up spanking before the cane, so it would not mark her as much and the pain would not be too intimidating at the start. For some reason this made her feel very embarrassed. She later told me that this intimate closeness to another woman had caused her to feel that way. It made her feel like a little girl, about to be spanked by her mother even though she was never spanked growing up. I immediately flipped up her skirt for the spanking, which I administered by hand. She was wearing a g-string underneath so essentially, the spanking was bare bottom right away. Since I am used to having Robert over my knee, I was struck by how small her bottom appeared. Jessica has a very nice figure and Mark apparently insists that she stays in shape and this was obvious. I admired (okay, envied) her pert buttocks and slender thighs. I gave her a decent warm up spanking, nothing too hard, but enough to cause her some discomfort and redness. She took it very well and after her initial embarrassment, she seemed to loosen up somewhat, even joking a bit as she was being spanked.
That joking and loosening up ended abruptly however when I announced it was time for the cane. She got up off my knee stood there quietly, still holding up her skirt as she was taught apparently. I ordered her over the armrest which she acknowledged with a simple 'okay'. While I am not a stickler for decorum, I did raise my eyebrow at that and looked at her sharply, followed by a stern "Excuse me, young lady?", which made her blush. She apologized quickly, said 'Yes Barbara' and then draped herself over the armrest. Being not as tall as Robert, this position made her stretch her legs out nicely in order to keep her toes on the ground, which suited me fine. She was well positioned for the cane and I once again reminded her that this was not a punishment and that she could stop me whenever she wanted. Having said that, I swished the cane through the air a few times, as always enjoying the sound. I could see Jessica clench her bottom cheeks involuntarily. However before I proceeded with the caning, I decided to lower her g-string. Without warning, I pulled the tiny bit of fabric down to around her knees, explaining that I wanted her exposed. Again, I swished the cane through the air, finally tapping it on her bottom a few times. She clenched and tightened which made me tell her to try and relax, because she would be better able to absorb the pain if she did. I saw her muscles relax a bit and as soon as they did, I made the cane land right in the middle of her bottom. It wasn't a very hard stroke, but sharp enough to give her an impression of what the cane is capable of. For a second, she didn't react at all, which is typical for the cane, then the sharp pain registered and she raised her head and yelped. Immediately after that, I saw her relax again as the pain dissipated and she absorbed it. I landed the next stroke a little below the first. This time the pain did not surprise her, she was ready for it and she took it well, so I decided to make my strokes a little harder. The softer, fleshier lower half of her bottom would be able to take that.
Before I started the caning, I had determined that I would give her twelve strokes, provided Jessica did not stop me before that number. I worked my way down her bottom methodically, each stroke a little lower than the previous one. Stroke number 10 landed right on her sit spots, and 11 and 12 were on the top of her thighs which caused her serious discomfort. All in all, she took the caning very well, maintaining her position and showing no signs of wanting to stop me. When all twelve strokes had been given, she had twelve lines across her cheeks and top of her thighs. I had taken extra care not to cross any previous strokes and I had succeeded. When I announced that the caning was over, Jessica surprised me however. She seemed disappointed and when I asked her about it she admitted to wanting a little more. I explained that canings are traditionally given in increments of three or six. I asked if she could take six more and she nodded. I agreed to giving her six more strokes but I knew that it would be impossible not to cross already existing lines. There was simply not more room on those small cheeks of hers.
I picked up the cane again and continued. The first stroke of the second set landed on her sit spot again. It overlapped the previous stroke that I had given there and this caused her to yelp and squirm over the armrest. When she had regained her composure I continued the caning, this time working my way upward to the middle of her cheeks again. At the second to last stroke, she muttered a curse under her breath. I coolly informed her that cursing earned her two penalty strokes. She wanted to say something, but I cut off any comments by giving her stroke number 18. Instead of words, she let out a loud yelp. I immediately followed up with the two penalty strokes on the back of her thighs. She rose up on outstretched arms, her toes leaving the floor and let out a yell. I was therefore sure she had learned her lesson about cursing. Slowly, she assumed the position again and I inquired if she wanted more or had had enough. After the twenty she had received, she thought it had been enough and I was in full agreement. There were twenty angry looking stripes across her cheeks and thighs, turning purple where they overlapped. I was sure she would feel the effects of the cane for quite some time.
I put the cane down and told her to remain in position as I fetched the arnica gel. This would help the stripes and bruises heal. Usually, if the caning is for punishment, I don't bother with arnica but this had been an experiment for both of us and I wanted her to walk away with a good feeling. As I applied the gel, she let out soft moans, because she was sore but also because it felt good, she said. When I was finished, I let her up and we hugged. She thanked me for my willingness to help her make her fantasy into reality. I had been happy to oblige and I thoroughly enjoyed our little session of play together. I then left her alone for a bit, to come back down to Earth and to study her marks in the tall mirror in the room.
When the men came back, we were already down in the living room enjoying a glass of wine together. Jessica was sitting on the sofa because it offered a very soft seat. Mark wished to see the results though, so he told her to bend over the table so he could admire her marks. A bit shy, with Robert in the room, she got up and walked around the table. I told Robert to turn around so as not to embarrass Jessica which he did. I could see that he was a little disappointed but he isn't supposed to ogle bare bottoms.
Jessica bent over the table and raised her skirt so that Mark could see. He was impressed, both by the severity of the marks and the fact that she had taken it very well. I told him that she had done very well, even asked for extra but didn't mention the curse. Mark wondered if he should be more severe with her, as he ran his fingers over the lines on her bottom cheeks. Jessica looked up at me, smiling through her embarrassment. I smiled back, feeling privileged at being allowed to witness this moment. There was something very beautiful in her submission and his appreciative comments.
That same evening, I received an email from her in which she thanked me once again for the caning. She wrote that it was both the most acute but also most wonderful pain she had ever felt. Every time the cane had whistled through the air, she had been sure that she would not be able to take the stroke but a wonderful warmth had spread through her as soon as the initial sharp pain had subsided. The finale though, the quick strokes on the back of her thighs had been so painful that she had no other word to describe them besides excruciating. They had given her the healthy respect for the cane that the instrument deserves.
Let me take this opportunity here to say thank you, Jessica. It was my pleasure and I'd be happy to do it again.
Pretty early on, Jessica admitted that she was interested in experiencing a caning administered by a woman. She was terribly afraid of the cane yet it was one of her favorite fantasies as well. A contradiction that is not uncommon in subs, as I understand it. Since I am the only dominant woman she knows and since I am somewhat of a self-taught expert when it comes to caning (the cane being a favorite instrument of mine), she quite naturally thought about me doing it. She asked her dominant if he thought it was okay and he had no objections to it. And because Jessica is a woman, Robert also had little qualms about me administering a caning. I have to admit that I was very curious and eager to try it myself, because I had never played with a female submissive before. We set a date for our next meeting and it was determined that Jessica would receive her caning then. She had a nervous wait of almost four weeks during which the anticipation rose to feverish levels sometimes, as she later told me.
When we finally met and had the freshening up and initial coffee behind us, I decided that it was time to administer the cane. We had agreed that there would be no men present, it would be just us ladies. Robert took Mark for a drink to a local cafe so we would have the house to ourselves. Just as well, because I felt nearly as nervous as Jessica about our little experiment. I had carefully chosen the place where everything would happen, a room on our upper floor with a sofa that has high armrests where a submissive can lie over, having the bottom as the uppermost part of the body, nicely presented. I made Jessica walk up the stairs in front of me. In the room, a cane had been placed on the sofa already. She was positively shaking when she entered the room and saw it there. Aware of how nervous she was feeling, I felt I had to try and reassure her somewhat. I explained to her that the caning she was about to receive was in no way a punishment. There was no minimum of strokes and she could end it at any time by simply asking me to stop. I made sure she understood those things before proceeding.
Much to her surprise, I ordered her over my knee first. I had decided to give her a good warm up spanking before the cane, so it would not mark her as much and the pain would not be too intimidating at the start. For some reason this made her feel very embarrassed. She later told me that this intimate closeness to another woman had caused her to feel that way. It made her feel like a little girl, about to be spanked by her mother even though she was never spanked growing up. I immediately flipped up her skirt for the spanking, which I administered by hand. She was wearing a g-string underneath so essentially, the spanking was bare bottom right away. Since I am used to having Robert over my knee, I was struck by how small her bottom appeared. Jessica has a very nice figure and Mark apparently insists that she stays in shape and this was obvious. I admired (okay, envied) her pert buttocks and slender thighs. I gave her a decent warm up spanking, nothing too hard, but enough to cause her some discomfort and redness. She took it very well and after her initial embarrassment, she seemed to loosen up somewhat, even joking a bit as she was being spanked.
That joking and loosening up ended abruptly however when I announced it was time for the cane. She got up off my knee stood there quietly, still holding up her skirt as she was taught apparently. I ordered her over the armrest which she acknowledged with a simple 'okay'. While I am not a stickler for decorum, I did raise my eyebrow at that and looked at her sharply, followed by a stern "Excuse me, young lady?", which made her blush. She apologized quickly, said 'Yes Barbara' and then draped herself over the armrest. Being not as tall as Robert, this position made her stretch her legs out nicely in order to keep her toes on the ground, which suited me fine. She was well positioned for the cane and I once again reminded her that this was not a punishment and that she could stop me whenever she wanted. Having said that, I swished the cane through the air a few times, as always enjoying the sound. I could see Jessica clench her bottom cheeks involuntarily. However before I proceeded with the caning, I decided to lower her g-string. Without warning, I pulled the tiny bit of fabric down to around her knees, explaining that I wanted her exposed. Again, I swished the cane through the air, finally tapping it on her bottom a few times. She clenched and tightened which made me tell her to try and relax, because she would be better able to absorb the pain if she did. I saw her muscles relax a bit and as soon as they did, I made the cane land right in the middle of her bottom. It wasn't a very hard stroke, but sharp enough to give her an impression of what the cane is capable of. For a second, she didn't react at all, which is typical for the cane, then the sharp pain registered and she raised her head and yelped. Immediately after that, I saw her relax again as the pain dissipated and she absorbed it. I landed the next stroke a little below the first. This time the pain did not surprise her, she was ready for it and she took it well, so I decided to make my strokes a little harder. The softer, fleshier lower half of her bottom would be able to take that.
Before I started the caning, I had determined that I would give her twelve strokes, provided Jessica did not stop me before that number. I worked my way down her bottom methodically, each stroke a little lower than the previous one. Stroke number 10 landed right on her sit spots, and 11 and 12 were on the top of her thighs which caused her serious discomfort. All in all, she took the caning very well, maintaining her position and showing no signs of wanting to stop me. When all twelve strokes had been given, she had twelve lines across her cheeks and top of her thighs. I had taken extra care not to cross any previous strokes and I had succeeded. When I announced that the caning was over, Jessica surprised me however. She seemed disappointed and when I asked her about it she admitted to wanting a little more. I explained that canings are traditionally given in increments of three or six. I asked if she could take six more and she nodded. I agreed to giving her six more strokes but I knew that it would be impossible not to cross already existing lines. There was simply not more room on those small cheeks of hers.
I picked up the cane again and continued. The first stroke of the second set landed on her sit spot again. It overlapped the previous stroke that I had given there and this caused her to yelp and squirm over the armrest. When she had regained her composure I continued the caning, this time working my way upward to the middle of her cheeks again. At the second to last stroke, she muttered a curse under her breath. I coolly informed her that cursing earned her two penalty strokes. She wanted to say something, but I cut off any comments by giving her stroke number 18. Instead of words, she let out a loud yelp. I immediately followed up with the two penalty strokes on the back of her thighs. She rose up on outstretched arms, her toes leaving the floor and let out a yell. I was therefore sure she had learned her lesson about cursing. Slowly, she assumed the position again and I inquired if she wanted more or had had enough. After the twenty she had received, she thought it had been enough and I was in full agreement. There were twenty angry looking stripes across her cheeks and thighs, turning purple where they overlapped. I was sure she would feel the effects of the cane for quite some time.
I put the cane down and told her to remain in position as I fetched the arnica gel. This would help the stripes and bruises heal. Usually, if the caning is for punishment, I don't bother with arnica but this had been an experiment for both of us and I wanted her to walk away with a good feeling. As I applied the gel, she let out soft moans, because she was sore but also because it felt good, she said. When I was finished, I let her up and we hugged. She thanked me for my willingness to help her make her fantasy into reality. I had been happy to oblige and I thoroughly enjoyed our little session of play together. I then left her alone for a bit, to come back down to Earth and to study her marks in the tall mirror in the room.
When the men came back, we were already down in the living room enjoying a glass of wine together. Jessica was sitting on the sofa because it offered a very soft seat. Mark wished to see the results though, so he told her to bend over the table so he could admire her marks. A bit shy, with Robert in the room, she got up and walked around the table. I told Robert to turn around so as not to embarrass Jessica which he did. I could see that he was a little disappointed but he isn't supposed to ogle bare bottoms.
Jessica bent over the table and raised her skirt so that Mark could see. He was impressed, both by the severity of the marks and the fact that she had taken it very well. I told him that she had done very well, even asked for extra but didn't mention the curse. Mark wondered if he should be more severe with her, as he ran his fingers over the lines on her bottom cheeks. Jessica looked up at me, smiling through her embarrassment. I smiled back, feeling privileged at being allowed to witness this moment. There was something very beautiful in her submission and his appreciative comments.
That same evening, I received an email from her in which she thanked me once again for the caning. She wrote that it was both the most acute but also most wonderful pain she had ever felt. Every time the cane had whistled through the air, she had been sure that she would not be able to take the stroke but a wonderful warmth had spread through her as soon as the initial sharp pain had subsided. The finale though, the quick strokes on the back of her thighs had been so painful that she had no other word to describe them besides excruciating. They had given her the healthy respect for the cane that the instrument deserves.
Let me take this opportunity here to say thank you, Jessica. It was my pleasure and I'd be happy to do it again.
Thursday, 4 November 2010
The Submission Show
Once again I am guilty of neglecting my little blog and my readers for much too long. I am sorry about that, but real life so often gets in the way. Then again, I never said I would be a prolific or even regular blogger, so I guess you will just have to be patient. I noticed there are already 53 people who follow this blog and I am truly impressed. I had no idea that so many of you would be interested in the things I have to say. Well, welcome to all of you anyway.
Today, I want to say a few things about shows and signs of submission (wonderful alliteration, isn't it?). By that, I mean kneeling, prostrating, kissing of feet and things such as that. While I understand that for some people they are important in their play and lifestyle, I personally have never been a big fan of them. It's not that I object to having a submissive kneel before me as a sign of respect. It's that true submission is found within and not in outward signs of submission. If the kneeling comes from within the submissive as an honest show of submission, that is fine with me. But too often, I feel it is just show.
I would much rather have a submissive who truly puts my wishes and desires above his own, than a submissive who kneels besides my chair all evening thinking to himself: "oh, look everyone, how wonderfully submissive I am". The first one is real to me, the other is not.
Maybe it's because I am not very big on ritual and decorum. You won't find Robert going about the house saying "Yes Mistress" all the time. In my mind, "Mistress" is associated with whips, chains, leather and things such as that and I am just not like that. I am just as much of a Domme in my bathrobe and house slippers. I know some people may disapprove of this and I may be ruining the fantasies of a lot of submissive men, but 'mistressy ' clothes are just not very comfortable to wear and I want to feel relaxed at home. I don't want to be dressed up there all the time, like I am at work. The same goes for Robert. I expect him to do as I say, but he can do that dressed casually and sitting on a chair too. Unless I have specific tasks for him, of course...
I think a lot of these outward signs of submission have become important because of BDSM films. I have seen clips on the web and also film-length recordings, where leather-clad women hover menacingly over naked, shivering and cowering men. Maybe this has shaped the image of how people think a BDSM life should be. I say "life" and not "session" because I think for a session that can be very exciting. But can people really live like that all the time? I think not. It just does not seem possible.
Just like I don't have the time to spend on this weblog that I would like, I don't always have the time or energy to be a Domme. The same goes for Robert to some extent, except of course that he doesn't Domme. He seems to have less trouble with assuming the submissive role. Then again, he is about 10 years younger so maybe that has some influence as well. When I was ill, I did not have the energy to Domme at all, let alone play dress up.
So do I not appreciate signs of submission nor use them? No, that's not true either. As I said before, if a submissive feels he needs to kneel before me because his submission tells him to do so in an earnest way, that is fine with me. I also use kneeling when I feel I really need to put Robert in his place. There is nothing that Robert finds more intimidating than having to kneel naked in the room while he waits for me to come in and begin his scolding. But this I do not consider to be show. It is a functional use of a position to make him feel little and submissive. To us, it is very real.
My intention is not to tell people how they should play or act in this lifestyle. Everyone should do what feels good or right to them. As long as you have fun and do things in a safe, sane and consensual way, don't let this domestic Domme talk you out of what you like.
Today, I want to say a few things about shows and signs of submission (wonderful alliteration, isn't it?). By that, I mean kneeling, prostrating, kissing of feet and things such as that. While I understand that for some people they are important in their play and lifestyle, I personally have never been a big fan of them. It's not that I object to having a submissive kneel before me as a sign of respect. It's that true submission is found within and not in outward signs of submission. If the kneeling comes from within the submissive as an honest show of submission, that is fine with me. But too often, I feel it is just show.
I would much rather have a submissive who truly puts my wishes and desires above his own, than a submissive who kneels besides my chair all evening thinking to himself: "oh, look everyone, how wonderfully submissive I am". The first one is real to me, the other is not.
Maybe it's because I am not very big on ritual and decorum. You won't find Robert going about the house saying "Yes Mistress" all the time. In my mind, "Mistress" is associated with whips, chains, leather and things such as that and I am just not like that. I am just as much of a Domme in my bathrobe and house slippers. I know some people may disapprove of this and I may be ruining the fantasies of a lot of submissive men, but 'mistressy ' clothes are just not very comfortable to wear and I want to feel relaxed at home. I don't want to be dressed up there all the time, like I am at work. The same goes for Robert. I expect him to do as I say, but he can do that dressed casually and sitting on a chair too. Unless I have specific tasks for him, of course...
I think a lot of these outward signs of submission have become important because of BDSM films. I have seen clips on the web and also film-length recordings, where leather-clad women hover menacingly over naked, shivering and cowering men. Maybe this has shaped the image of how people think a BDSM life should be. I say "life" and not "session" because I think for a session that can be very exciting. But can people really live like that all the time? I think not. It just does not seem possible.
Just like I don't have the time to spend on this weblog that I would like, I don't always have the time or energy to be a Domme. The same goes for Robert to some extent, except of course that he doesn't Domme. He seems to have less trouble with assuming the submissive role. Then again, he is about 10 years younger so maybe that has some influence as well. When I was ill, I did not have the energy to Domme at all, let alone play dress up.
So do I not appreciate signs of submission nor use them? No, that's not true either. As I said before, if a submissive feels he needs to kneel before me because his submission tells him to do so in an earnest way, that is fine with me. I also use kneeling when I feel I really need to put Robert in his place. There is nothing that Robert finds more intimidating than having to kneel naked in the room while he waits for me to come in and begin his scolding. But this I do not consider to be show. It is a functional use of a position to make him feel little and submissive. To us, it is very real.
My intention is not to tell people how they should play or act in this lifestyle. Everyone should do what feels good or right to them. As long as you have fun and do things in a safe, sane and consensual way, don't let this domestic Domme talk you out of what you like.
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
BDSM in the open
It's about time that I wrote something again, so here it goes. As you may know from a comment I made under my previous post, Robert and I have been away on vacation. This means that we haven't really played much, but the dynamic did not leave our relationship. That, and he was kept in chastity for the entire time. I suppose that was the reason he was sometimes looking at some of the younger women present. That's his explanation for it anyway. We went to one of those all-in resorts, where you basically don't have to do anything all day. Not my usual choice of holiday destination, but I don't feel up yet to something more active. Travelling there was hard enough for me.
Basically, our holiday consisted of lounging in the shadow of a parasol, taking a swim in the pool or in the nearby Mediterranean and eating. It was warm enough to sleep outside at night, so one didn't have to move off of one's recliner.
Why am I telling you this? This is nothing special, of course. Many people visit such resorts. What was special was that on the second day, Robert directed my attention to a younger couple. At first glance, they were unremarkable. It was then that Robert pointed out her bottom to me, or rather, what was on her bottom. When I took a look, I could immediately see why he was interested in them. She was a cute girl, without a doubt, but on her bottom I could clearly make out crop marks. There were one or two on her thighs as well. They weren't very clear or pronounced, a few days old certainly. Having made plenty of crop marks myself, they were not difficult to recognize tough. From that moment, it became a way to pass the time, watching them secretly. We saw the way she acted around him. Not openly submissive in any way, but there were subtle though clear signs that she was his submissive. It was in the way she spoke to him, touched him, looked at him. Nothing too obvious and most likely not something a vanilla would notice.
They seemed to favour the same corner at the pool as us, which made observing them a bit easier. Now, I don't want you to think we were hiding in the bushes and looking at them through binoculars. But every now and then, I would glance at them over the top of my book. I remember that one morning they came to the pool, and she was wearing her usual bikini with a wrap around her waist, covering her down to her thighs. It was clear that she didn't wear that to hide her fat thighs, because she didn't have fat thighs. It immediately became obvious when she sat down and the wrap opened up a bit at the side: distinct red blotched on her visible bottom cheek. It was obvious she had been spanked shortly before.
I began thinking about the two of the them on holiday together and being so open about this aspect of their relationship. They were not open in an 'in-your-face' type of way. They were also not really hiding their games or lifestyle. I realized I felt admiration and something of jealousy for these young people being so comfortable with their way of life. Here Robert and I were, carefully hiding our lifestyle, being careful not to offend anyone and a little afraid that we would be seen as unacceptable by others. I felt I wanted some of their attitude. When I mentioned this to Robert, he agreed that he felt admiration too. We both wondered why exactly it was that we should hide in the shadows whereas this couple didn't. Should we be less paranoid about being found out? After all, if gay people are (in most modern societies and certainly where we live) more or less accepted, then why should we who practice BDSM have to hide? Are we so different and repulsive to vanillas? Surely not.
I have to admit that it was Robert who expressed curiosity about meeting them first. I was a bit more hesitant but he managed to tickle my curiosity enough to convince me. We decided that I would make contact with her, because woman to woman contact might be easier. When she got up to get drinks, I followed her. As she waited for her drinks, I stood next to her and said softly: "Those are some nice marks you have there."
I guess I scared her a little bit because she immediately pulled the wrap tightly around her. She then acted more or less innocently, but I reassured her by telling her that I understood and that I was one of her "kind". I pointed to Robert and told her that he was my submissive. Her attitude changed again and she became very polite. I could not help but smile because it was interesting to see her attitude change.
To make a long story short, she introduced me to her dominant. To the outside world, he was her fiancé but to her he was the man who owned her. I called Robert over and the four of us had a very entertaining afternoon. I explained to them our feelings as we had observed them, our spot of jealousy and admiration. She was a bit shocked that they had been obvious but he explained that while he didn't want to make people uncomfortable or shock them, he was comfortable enough with his lifestyle to live it. An attitude that is perhaps more healthy than my own, but then again, I grew up in a different time. He had introduced her to this lifestyle. While she had had submissive fantasies all of her life, he was the first man with whom she had explored them. So far, it had been difficult but also very exciting for her. I told them a bit about our relationship, about Robert being my submissive and I could not help but embarrass him by pointing out that he was locked in a chastity device. He (not Robert) laughed heartily at that, nodding approvingly. She was a bit taken aback but also felt admiration for Robert who was willing to make that sacrifice for me. She was a true gem and I consider her dominant very lucky to have found her. She will make an excellent submissive someday.
They left for home 2 days later, but we have exchanged email addresses, promising to keep in touch. I hope we have made new friends.
As for me, I think I have grown a bit through this experience. Perhaps BDSM is becoming more mainstream, more accepted than I thought. Perhaps I should not be so paranoid about hiding my Domme nature. Perhaps being "outed" is not the worst thing that can happen. Fortunately, I live in a society that is quite tolerant. Fortunately, we have the Internet nowadays, so more and more people who are interested in this lifestyle can find information. It is easier than ever to educate oneself about BDSM. We should be grateful for that. It is an excellent medium to educate people about us and our lifestyle.
Basically, our holiday consisted of lounging in the shadow of a parasol, taking a swim in the pool or in the nearby Mediterranean and eating. It was warm enough to sleep outside at night, so one didn't have to move off of one's recliner.
Why am I telling you this? This is nothing special, of course. Many people visit such resorts. What was special was that on the second day, Robert directed my attention to a younger couple. At first glance, they were unremarkable. It was then that Robert pointed out her bottom to me, or rather, what was on her bottom. When I took a look, I could immediately see why he was interested in them. She was a cute girl, without a doubt, but on her bottom I could clearly make out crop marks. There were one or two on her thighs as well. They weren't very clear or pronounced, a few days old certainly. Having made plenty of crop marks myself, they were not difficult to recognize tough. From that moment, it became a way to pass the time, watching them secretly. We saw the way she acted around him. Not openly submissive in any way, but there were subtle though clear signs that she was his submissive. It was in the way she spoke to him, touched him, looked at him. Nothing too obvious and most likely not something a vanilla would notice.
They seemed to favour the same corner at the pool as us, which made observing them a bit easier. Now, I don't want you to think we were hiding in the bushes and looking at them through binoculars. But every now and then, I would glance at them over the top of my book. I remember that one morning they came to the pool, and she was wearing her usual bikini with a wrap around her waist, covering her down to her thighs. It was clear that she didn't wear that to hide her fat thighs, because she didn't have fat thighs. It immediately became obvious when she sat down and the wrap opened up a bit at the side: distinct red blotched on her visible bottom cheek. It was obvious she had been spanked shortly before.
I began thinking about the two of the them on holiday together and being so open about this aspect of their relationship. They were not open in an 'in-your-face' type of way. They were also not really hiding their games or lifestyle. I realized I felt admiration and something of jealousy for these young people being so comfortable with their way of life. Here Robert and I were, carefully hiding our lifestyle, being careful not to offend anyone and a little afraid that we would be seen as unacceptable by others. I felt I wanted some of their attitude. When I mentioned this to Robert, he agreed that he felt admiration too. We both wondered why exactly it was that we should hide in the shadows whereas this couple didn't. Should we be less paranoid about being found out? After all, if gay people are (in most modern societies and certainly where we live) more or less accepted, then why should we who practice BDSM have to hide? Are we so different and repulsive to vanillas? Surely not.
I have to admit that it was Robert who expressed curiosity about meeting them first. I was a bit more hesitant but he managed to tickle my curiosity enough to convince me. We decided that I would make contact with her, because woman to woman contact might be easier. When she got up to get drinks, I followed her. As she waited for her drinks, I stood next to her and said softly: "Those are some nice marks you have there."
I guess I scared her a little bit because she immediately pulled the wrap tightly around her. She then acted more or less innocently, but I reassured her by telling her that I understood and that I was one of her "kind". I pointed to Robert and told her that he was my submissive. Her attitude changed again and she became very polite. I could not help but smile because it was interesting to see her attitude change.
To make a long story short, she introduced me to her dominant. To the outside world, he was her fiancé but to her he was the man who owned her. I called Robert over and the four of us had a very entertaining afternoon. I explained to them our feelings as we had observed them, our spot of jealousy and admiration. She was a bit shocked that they had been obvious but he explained that while he didn't want to make people uncomfortable or shock them, he was comfortable enough with his lifestyle to live it. An attitude that is perhaps more healthy than my own, but then again, I grew up in a different time. He had introduced her to this lifestyle. While she had had submissive fantasies all of her life, he was the first man with whom she had explored them. So far, it had been difficult but also very exciting for her. I told them a bit about our relationship, about Robert being my submissive and I could not help but embarrass him by pointing out that he was locked in a chastity device. He (not Robert) laughed heartily at that, nodding approvingly. She was a bit taken aback but also felt admiration for Robert who was willing to make that sacrifice for me. She was a true gem and I consider her dominant very lucky to have found her. She will make an excellent submissive someday.
They left for home 2 days later, but we have exchanged email addresses, promising to keep in touch. I hope we have made new friends.
As for me, I think I have grown a bit through this experience. Perhaps BDSM is becoming more mainstream, more accepted than I thought. Perhaps I should not be so paranoid about hiding my Domme nature. Perhaps being "outed" is not the worst thing that can happen. Fortunately, I live in a society that is quite tolerant. Fortunately, we have the Internet nowadays, so more and more people who are interested in this lifestyle can find information. It is easier than ever to educate oneself about BDSM. We should be grateful for that. It is an excellent medium to educate people about us and our lifestyle.
Thursday, 22 July 2010
Bitch? No, just confident!
A comment left by Susan' Pet yesterday, got me to think about something. I know many men out there are longing for a dominant woman. They are either single or in a relationship with a vanilla woman and their submissive desires go unfulfilled. Such a shame! It seems as there are just not enough Dommes to go around. But is that true?
I think there is certainly some truth to that. I remember from my own upbringing that I was often reminded that girls are supposed to be "sweet". They are certainly not supposed to be independent, strong willed, capable and bossy. And as they get older, it only gets worse. A woman who knows what she wants and is not afraid to say it or get it, is often referred to as a bitch. Men who are in a relationship with such a woman are "pussy-whipped". The media do not have a favourable view of strong women, most of the time. I think this is too bad. If I had been confident and comfortable with being a strong willed woman, my life might have been different. It took me quite some time to accept myself as a dominant.
There are plenty of men who have problems with strong women. I have encountered this in my work many times. Some men just can't accept women in a position of authority. If you have to instruct them or call them to order, you are immediately viewed as a bitch. Even if you are just trying to do the job you have been hired to do. While most men pay lip service to the sentence "I don't have problems with working under a female boss", the reality is often different. That is not the kind of "lip service" I look for in a man.
Perhaps there are many more dominant woman out there. But because they have been trained from a young age to be sweet, they may never feel confident enough to explore their dominance. So when they are asked to be dominant, they may be taken aback, shocked even, because they are being asked to go against everything they have been taught. The reverse is true for submissive men, who wish to serve a woman. There is much shame associated with a man allowing himself to be dominated by a woman. Somehow, it appears to be "not natural".
If I may, (of course I may, it's MY weblog after all!) allow me to direct a few words at women who are asked to be dominant by a lover. First of all, be honoured! Be very honoured! A man has trusted you enough to share his most hidden desires and fantasies with you. This is huge, since we all know that most men find it very difficult to communicate. So for God's sake, don't panic and loose your head. Of course you are taken aback, but listen to him. If you manage to suspend any judgement, this may very well be one of the most intimate moments you ever share with him. It may also be a start of something new and very special for the both of you. So don't refuse flat out or laugh at him. Most likely he is not asking you to turn into a leather clad, whip wielding dominatrix (and even if he is, would that really be that bad?).
Think about it and be open with yourself. Are you willing to at least consider the option of dominating him? It doesn't have to be full time, but maybe every once in a while. Does it interest you somewhat or not at all? Imagine him doing things for you, such as bringing you breakfast in bed, hoovering the living room, the kind of chores you don't like. One of the benefits of being a Domme means that you will no longer have to, if that is you game. Does that have any appeal? If you find there is absolutely nothing about this that tickles your fancy, then being a Domme is probably not for you. Still, I would say: don't knock it until you try it, but insist that he helps you. After all, he is asking for it, so he must have an idea of what he wants, even if you don't.
I'd also like to direct a few words at the men who are considering asking their lover to become dominant. What you are about to do, is one of the bravest things you have ever done or will ever do. It's wonderful that you put such trust in your partner. But be careful! You are about to confront her with a role in which she most likely never pictured herself. Most likely she will be very surprised that her partner harbours such desires. She may even become upset and feel betrayed that you mention this at the current point of the relationship and blame you that you should have mentioned it earlier. They key here is patience. I can not stress that enough. Be patient. If someone is about to parachute out of a plane for the first time, you don't just push them out of the plane and see how they get on. You instruct them, teach them techniques, tell them what to expect, do tandem jumps and only then do you allow someone to jump solo. A woman who is asked to be dominant is like someone parachuting into completely unknown territory. Don't expect her to know anything about it or understand what she is supposed to do.
Here is where my second piece of advice comes in: C O M M U N I C A T E ! It's not enough to tell her that you'd like her to Domme you. That's a good start, but no more than that. Be very open, answer all her questions and more. Tell her why you want her to do that, tell her how it makes you feel. Tell her that you are there for her and want to help her, if she is willing to experiment. You can not make a woman a Domme against her will no matter how much you want to. She has to at least be open to it. If you've asked her, told her everything she wanted to know and she states that she is not open to it or comfortable with it, you may try and pry why that is. But accept her refusal. Don't push the matter because you'll likely make her even less interested. It's not in everyone. But it could be in the one you asked.
As for me, am I a bitch? Well, if being confident of my abilities, sure of what I expect and not afraid to say it, makes me a bitch, then yes. And in that case I am proud of being a bitch.
I think there is certainly some truth to that. I remember from my own upbringing that I was often reminded that girls are supposed to be "sweet". They are certainly not supposed to be independent, strong willed, capable and bossy. And as they get older, it only gets worse. A woman who knows what she wants and is not afraid to say it or get it, is often referred to as a bitch. Men who are in a relationship with such a woman are "pussy-whipped". The media do not have a favourable view of strong women, most of the time. I think this is too bad. If I had been confident and comfortable with being a strong willed woman, my life might have been different. It took me quite some time to accept myself as a dominant.
There are plenty of men who have problems with strong women. I have encountered this in my work many times. Some men just can't accept women in a position of authority. If you have to instruct them or call them to order, you are immediately viewed as a bitch. Even if you are just trying to do the job you have been hired to do. While most men pay lip service to the sentence "I don't have problems with working under a female boss", the reality is often different. That is not the kind of "lip service" I look for in a man.
Perhaps there are many more dominant woman out there. But because they have been trained from a young age to be sweet, they may never feel confident enough to explore their dominance. So when they are asked to be dominant, they may be taken aback, shocked even, because they are being asked to go against everything they have been taught. The reverse is true for submissive men, who wish to serve a woman. There is much shame associated with a man allowing himself to be dominated by a woman. Somehow, it appears to be "not natural".
If I may, (of course I may, it's MY weblog after all!) allow me to direct a few words at women who are asked to be dominant by a lover. First of all, be honoured! Be very honoured! A man has trusted you enough to share his most hidden desires and fantasies with you. This is huge, since we all know that most men find it very difficult to communicate. So for God's sake, don't panic and loose your head. Of course you are taken aback, but listen to him. If you manage to suspend any judgement, this may very well be one of the most intimate moments you ever share with him. It may also be a start of something new and very special for the both of you. So don't refuse flat out or laugh at him. Most likely he is not asking you to turn into a leather clad, whip wielding dominatrix (and even if he is, would that really be that bad?).
Think about it and be open with yourself. Are you willing to at least consider the option of dominating him? It doesn't have to be full time, but maybe every once in a while. Does it interest you somewhat or not at all? Imagine him doing things for you, such as bringing you breakfast in bed, hoovering the living room, the kind of chores you don't like. One of the benefits of being a Domme means that you will no longer have to, if that is you game. Does that have any appeal? If you find there is absolutely nothing about this that tickles your fancy, then being a Domme is probably not for you. Still, I would say: don't knock it until you try it, but insist that he helps you. After all, he is asking for it, so he must have an idea of what he wants, even if you don't.
I'd also like to direct a few words at the men who are considering asking their lover to become dominant. What you are about to do, is one of the bravest things you have ever done or will ever do. It's wonderful that you put such trust in your partner. But be careful! You are about to confront her with a role in which she most likely never pictured herself. Most likely she will be very surprised that her partner harbours such desires. She may even become upset and feel betrayed that you mention this at the current point of the relationship and blame you that you should have mentioned it earlier. They key here is patience. I can not stress that enough. Be patient. If someone is about to parachute out of a plane for the first time, you don't just push them out of the plane and see how they get on. You instruct them, teach them techniques, tell them what to expect, do tandem jumps and only then do you allow someone to jump solo. A woman who is asked to be dominant is like someone parachuting into completely unknown territory. Don't expect her to know anything about it or understand what she is supposed to do.
Here is where my second piece of advice comes in: C O M M U N I C A T E ! It's not enough to tell her that you'd like her to Domme you. That's a good start, but no more than that. Be very open, answer all her questions and more. Tell her why you want her to do that, tell her how it makes you feel. Tell her that you are there for her and want to help her, if she is willing to experiment. You can not make a woman a Domme against her will no matter how much you want to. She has to at least be open to it. If you've asked her, told her everything she wanted to know and she states that she is not open to it or comfortable with it, you may try and pry why that is. But accept her refusal. Don't push the matter because you'll likely make her even less interested. It's not in everyone. But it could be in the one you asked.
As for me, am I a bitch? Well, if being confident of my abilities, sure of what I expect and not afraid to say it, makes me a bitch, then yes. And in that case I am proud of being a bitch.
Friday, 9 July 2010
Back (2)
Wednesday I wrote about my "comeback", where I caned Robert just because I felt like doing it. I also told that getting back into our lifestyle, resuming control, made me feel better. I still have this wonderful feeling, this rush of power. For women who are not familiar with this lifestyle, I should say this: it is a wonderful thing to be in charge at home and have a man at your beck and call. I am not one to advocate female supremacy, simply because I don't feel that I am better than men. Our species consists of men and women and they both need each other and depend on each other. Robert is equal to me, yet we choose to act as if he is not.
Anyway, getting off my soapbox for a moment, that is not what I wanted to talk about. I have made it no secret on this weblog, that I am a big fan of orgasm control, chastity and erotic teasing and denial games. My return to power has not only made me feel more bossy than I have felt in a long time, it has also awakened feelings of lust which slept during my illness. Yesterday, I told Robert to meet me in the bedroom and to bring his chastity device with him. I saw him swallow in nervous anticipation before he obeyed me. During my illness, I have let him free and since I was not in a mood to play, I am sure he took "matters into his own hands" on more than one occasion. I can't blame him, he has needs and I was not there for him. Since I am in the process of reasserting my control over him, I decided that he needs to be refocused on my needs, not his.
Obedient as always, Robert joined me in the bedroom together with the wooden box in which we keep his chastity device. I immediately told him to strip down to his panties. He obeyed and I already saw a hint of an erection in the blue satin French knickers he was wearing. I began to massage his cock through the fabric and soon I had him fully erect. I told him to place his hands on his head, which he did immediately. I lowered the knickers to his knees, ordering him to keep them there. He spread his legs further and his hard member, completely shaved, was now alone in mid air, open on all sides. I proceeded my massage of his cock, going slowly and pushing all his buttons. The poor boy was trembling in excitement but did his best to remain still. I questioned him about the time when I was not in control, asking him if he had masturbated? He confessed he had. Whether he had achieved orgasms? Again he confessed that he had. Still continuing my slow stroking, I told him that I understood and that I was not angry. That seemed to relax him a bit. Next, I told him that I was planning to refocus him on my needs again, and not his own. That seemed to make him a bit nervous again, but he did not speak. The massage of his cock was still going on and by now he was in quite a desperate state. I saw that he was ready to squirt, so I stopped my manipulations. His poor cock stood there, erect, throbbing and twitching, aching for more. A wonderful sight that always brings a smile to my face. He was panting in desperation, holding back any spillage because I had not given him permission to orgasm.
I explained to him that this refocusing would involve him being locked in chastity at least until July 31. I normally don't use the chastity device for long periods, so this surprised him a bit. I looked at him from my position on the edge of the bed and he looked back. He hesitated only a moment before he replied that if that was my wish, he would accept. His answer pleased me enormously. I felt very proud of him to trust me like this again, after our long dry spell. With my right hand, I began stimulating him again, slowly, teasingly. I told him that I was going to milk him before his lock up began. He thanked me with gasping breath and I saw he was getting close. I know his little signals by now and can play him very well. I raised my left hand and formed a cup with it under his cock head. As soon as he passed the point of no return, I stopped my stimulation, pointing his cock towards the cup of my left hand. With a deep, frustrated sigh, he "came" into my hand. Or rather, his seminal fluid dribbled out and formed a puddle in the palm of my hand. He thanked me as he knelt down and cleaned up his mess with his tongue. I know he hates the taste, but we both love the submissive act of him licking up his semen.
After this little pleasure for him, he was quickly secured in his chastity device and his knickers were hoisted up again. Then it was time for my pleasure. I installed Robert between my knees for a long, thorough session of oral service. Ah, it's good to be in charge!
Anyway, getting off my soapbox for a moment, that is not what I wanted to talk about. I have made it no secret on this weblog, that I am a big fan of orgasm control, chastity and erotic teasing and denial games. My return to power has not only made me feel more bossy than I have felt in a long time, it has also awakened feelings of lust which slept during my illness. Yesterday, I told Robert to meet me in the bedroom and to bring his chastity device with him. I saw him swallow in nervous anticipation before he obeyed me. During my illness, I have let him free and since I was not in a mood to play, I am sure he took "matters into his own hands" on more than one occasion. I can't blame him, he has needs and I was not there for him. Since I am in the process of reasserting my control over him, I decided that he needs to be refocused on my needs, not his.
Obedient as always, Robert joined me in the bedroom together with the wooden box in which we keep his chastity device. I immediately told him to strip down to his panties. He obeyed and I already saw a hint of an erection in the blue satin French knickers he was wearing. I began to massage his cock through the fabric and soon I had him fully erect. I told him to place his hands on his head, which he did immediately. I lowered the knickers to his knees, ordering him to keep them there. He spread his legs further and his hard member, completely shaved, was now alone in mid air, open on all sides. I proceeded my massage of his cock, going slowly and pushing all his buttons. The poor boy was trembling in excitement but did his best to remain still. I questioned him about the time when I was not in control, asking him if he had masturbated? He confessed he had. Whether he had achieved orgasms? Again he confessed that he had. Still continuing my slow stroking, I told him that I understood and that I was not angry. That seemed to relax him a bit. Next, I told him that I was planning to refocus him on my needs again, and not his own. That seemed to make him a bit nervous again, but he did not speak. The massage of his cock was still going on and by now he was in quite a desperate state. I saw that he was ready to squirt, so I stopped my manipulations. His poor cock stood there, erect, throbbing and twitching, aching for more. A wonderful sight that always brings a smile to my face. He was panting in desperation, holding back any spillage because I had not given him permission to orgasm.
I explained to him that this refocusing would involve him being locked in chastity at least until July 31. I normally don't use the chastity device for long periods, so this surprised him a bit. I looked at him from my position on the edge of the bed and he looked back. He hesitated only a moment before he replied that if that was my wish, he would accept. His answer pleased me enormously. I felt very proud of him to trust me like this again, after our long dry spell. With my right hand, I began stimulating him again, slowly, teasingly. I told him that I was going to milk him before his lock up began. He thanked me with gasping breath and I saw he was getting close. I know his little signals by now and can play him very well. I raised my left hand and formed a cup with it under his cock head. As soon as he passed the point of no return, I stopped my stimulation, pointing his cock towards the cup of my left hand. With a deep, frustrated sigh, he "came" into my hand. Or rather, his seminal fluid dribbled out and formed a puddle in the palm of my hand. He thanked me as he knelt down and cleaned up his mess with his tongue. I know he hates the taste, but we both love the submissive act of him licking up his semen.
After this little pleasure for him, he was quickly secured in his chastity device and his knickers were hoisted up again. Then it was time for my pleasure. I installed Robert between my knees for a long, thorough session of oral service. Ah, it's good to be in charge!
Wednesday, 7 July 2010
Back
I'm sorry that I have been away from this weblog for such a long time and without explanation. I realize that if you want to have a weblog, you have to keep it up. I was even beginning to gather a small following, much to my own surprise.
The fact of the matter is that I have been ill, very ill. I won't go into details regarding my illness but I will say that I had so little energy that I was not even able to write here. I just had no inspiration. I have also not been in much of a Domme mood, meaning that there was little to no play at our home.
My doctor tells me that I am getting better and on the road to full recovery. I'll get there in due time. And the good news is that I do feel much better than a few months ago. I have more energy and also my sexual and Domme feelings are coming back.
The last few months have not been easy on Robert, my boy, either. He missed me being me and the power exchange that normally exists between us. He took care of me better than any nurse I could imagine and he did so without a single complaint. It pained me that I could not be there for his needs and my own, to be honest.
Two days ago, I decided it was time to make my comeback. To Robert's considerable surprise, I told him to fetch the cane. He blinked, stunned after months of not getting so much as a single spank, but he obeyed. Before he knew it, it was panties down over the armrest of the sofa. When I saw his upturned bottom presented before me and I felt the familiar grip of the cane in the palm of my hand, I realized how much I had missed being in control. When I told him to fetch the cane, I had decided to make it 12 strokes. At that moment, I decided that I would make it 12 very worthwhile strokes. I told Robert to prepare for a strict caning. He just nodded. With each stroke and each yelp and squirm of him, I felt better. I had so missed doing this! The 12 strokes left 12 beautiful lines on his white flesh. I told him it was over but instead of getting up off the sofa, he sort of slid of sideways, hugged me around the waist while kneeling in front of me, pressed his head against my body and just whispered "Welcome back".
As I watched him putting on his panties this morning as he got ready for work, I smiled at the slowly fading marks on his bottom, clearly visible from underneath the tiny panties. It felt good to be back.
The fact of the matter is that I have been ill, very ill. I won't go into details regarding my illness but I will say that I had so little energy that I was not even able to write here. I just had no inspiration. I have also not been in much of a Domme mood, meaning that there was little to no play at our home.
My doctor tells me that I am getting better and on the road to full recovery. I'll get there in due time. And the good news is that I do feel much better than a few months ago. I have more energy and also my sexual and Domme feelings are coming back.
The last few months have not been easy on Robert, my boy, either. He missed me being me and the power exchange that normally exists between us. He took care of me better than any nurse I could imagine and he did so without a single complaint. It pained me that I could not be there for his needs and my own, to be honest.
Two days ago, I decided it was time to make my comeback. To Robert's considerable surprise, I told him to fetch the cane. He blinked, stunned after months of not getting so much as a single spank, but he obeyed. Before he knew it, it was panties down over the armrest of the sofa. When I saw his upturned bottom presented before me and I felt the familiar grip of the cane in the palm of my hand, I realized how much I had missed being in control. When I told him to fetch the cane, I had decided to make it 12 strokes. At that moment, I decided that I would make it 12 very worthwhile strokes. I told Robert to prepare for a strict caning. He just nodded. With each stroke and each yelp and squirm of him, I felt better. I had so missed doing this! The 12 strokes left 12 beautiful lines on his white flesh. I told him it was over but instead of getting up off the sofa, he sort of slid of sideways, hugged me around the waist while kneeling in front of me, pressed his head against my body and just whispered "Welcome back".
As I watched him putting on his panties this morning as he got ready for work, I smiled at the slowly fading marks on his bottom, clearly visible from underneath the tiny panties. It felt good to be back.
Friday, 25 September 2009
Frusturbation
Don't worry, you have not missed an update to the dictionary. Frusturbation is not an existing word (not to my knowledge at least), but it is a word that clearly describes a favorite activity of mine: masturbation for the sole purpose of increasing his frustration. That of course implies he is not allowed to cum. In fact, he won't even be allowed a ruined orgasm, all the cum stays where it belongs: inside his body.
There are so many techniques that can be used to make this very, very challenging for the boy in question that it is actually hard to describe. It also depends on the sensation I want him to have or how evil I am feeling. If I am feeling generous, I will tie him down to his bed while I play with his cock for a long time. And when I say a long time, I mean at least an hour. Not non-stop mind you, because that will likely push him over the edge and cause him to spill his semen. That's not what we want! We want to increase his frustration. However, most of the time, I will not be feeling so generous and he will have to work to increase his own frustration.
A favourite for this is to just have him kneel in front of me naked and play with himself to my instructions. I will tell him to speed up, to slow down, to squeeze his penis harder or to just flick it with his fingers. As he is busy, I tease him with questions whether he would like to cum or not, how good it will feel if he is allowed to squirt. All the while, I keep him in the dark about if he will be allowed to cum or not. Sometimes, when he has worked very hard to please me during a session like this, I will allow him to cum. Most of the time however, I don't allow it or will just allow him to ruin his orgasm. But allowing him these infrequent orgasms, encourages him to perform as well as he can, because he will never know if he won't get to cum today.
Other times, when I don't want to spend a lot of time instructing him and seeing his balls bob up and down in front of me, I will tie him down to a chair and leave just his non-dominant hand untied. I will allow him to watch a porn movie like this (but only a movie that features submissive men) and he must continue stimulation throughout the entire movie. Since he is tied down, he is unable to hide any "accidents" from me and he knows that he will be punished soundly if there are any accidents! It's especially challenging with a vibrating butt plug added into the mix!
If I feel he needs some kind of punishment or just a general reminder of his status, I will add something special to the mix: Tiger balm for instance. I will first instruct him to apply a generous dose of the balm to his penis and also his balls. Then, he must begin stroking. Within a few minutes, the ointment will start to burn and irritate his very sensitive parts. It's a lot of fun to watch him squirm and wriggle in a hopeless effort to find relief from the burn. If I am feeling particularly evil that day, I will make him apply the Tiger balm a second or third time. There is such relief when I tell him he may stop stroking. His cock will be swollen and very tender after a while.
During one of these frusturbation-sessions, I always insist that he is gagged. I don't want to hear his begging, pleading and moaning. He may beg me for release by his eyes alone. For extra 'fun' the gag will be a penis gag. :-)
Another thing that I insist upon is that at the end of the session, he consumes everything that his penis has leaked (unless he's been using the Tiger balm of course). He must lick his hands clean of any dribble and if any landed on the floor, he'd better get on all fours and get his tongue to work. He finds that last bit very embarrassing, but of course he made the mess, so he needs to clean it up.
Oh, I almost forgot one important detail: if he has not been allowed to cum during the frusturbation session, I usually lock him in his chastity device for a while. After all, we don't want him to cheat, do we? Have fun trying this on your boy, if you like! Or if you are boy, make sure your Domme reads this post!
There are so many techniques that can be used to make this very, very challenging for the boy in question that it is actually hard to describe. It also depends on the sensation I want him to have or how evil I am feeling. If I am feeling generous, I will tie him down to his bed while I play with his cock for a long time. And when I say a long time, I mean at least an hour. Not non-stop mind you, because that will likely push him over the edge and cause him to spill his semen. That's not what we want! We want to increase his frustration. However, most of the time, I will not be feeling so generous and he will have to work to increase his own frustration.
A favourite for this is to just have him kneel in front of me naked and play with himself to my instructions. I will tell him to speed up, to slow down, to squeeze his penis harder or to just flick it with his fingers. As he is busy, I tease him with questions whether he would like to cum or not, how good it will feel if he is allowed to squirt. All the while, I keep him in the dark about if he will be allowed to cum or not. Sometimes, when he has worked very hard to please me during a session like this, I will allow him to cum. Most of the time however, I don't allow it or will just allow him to ruin his orgasm. But allowing him these infrequent orgasms, encourages him to perform as well as he can, because he will never know if he won't get to cum today.
Other times, when I don't want to spend a lot of time instructing him and seeing his balls bob up and down in front of me, I will tie him down to a chair and leave just his non-dominant hand untied. I will allow him to watch a porn movie like this (but only a movie that features submissive men) and he must continue stimulation throughout the entire movie. Since he is tied down, he is unable to hide any "accidents" from me and he knows that he will be punished soundly if there are any accidents! It's especially challenging with a vibrating butt plug added into the mix!
If I feel he needs some kind of punishment or just a general reminder of his status, I will add something special to the mix: Tiger balm for instance. I will first instruct him to apply a generous dose of the balm to his penis and also his balls. Then, he must begin stroking. Within a few minutes, the ointment will start to burn and irritate his very sensitive parts. It's a lot of fun to watch him squirm and wriggle in a hopeless effort to find relief from the burn. If I am feeling particularly evil that day, I will make him apply the Tiger balm a second or third time. There is such relief when I tell him he may stop stroking. His cock will be swollen and very tender after a while.
During one of these frusturbation-sessions, I always insist that he is gagged. I don't want to hear his begging, pleading and moaning. He may beg me for release by his eyes alone. For extra 'fun' the gag will be a penis gag. :-)
Another thing that I insist upon is that at the end of the session, he consumes everything that his penis has leaked (unless he's been using the Tiger balm of course). He must lick his hands clean of any dribble and if any landed on the floor, he'd better get on all fours and get his tongue to work. He finds that last bit very embarrassing, but of course he made the mess, so he needs to clean it up.
Oh, I almost forgot one important detail: if he has not been allowed to cum during the frusturbation session, I usually lock him in his chastity device for a while. After all, we don't want him to cheat, do we? Have fun trying this on your boy, if you like! Or if you are boy, make sure your Domme reads this post!
Thursday, 17 September 2009
Submission
A short comment I left on "The Training blog of Mark", got me thinking about submission a bit more. In it, I was speaking about submission and the different levels of submission that exist, according to me at least. I'm not claiming to have written the book on submission or to have invented the proper definition of it. But roughly speaking I think there exist three levels of submission. I will specify them below.
As on the weblog I mentioned, I'd like to close by saying the following:
Disclaimer: the above babble is just my opinion and no correctness or usefulness is implied.
Okay class, discuss!
- Obedience
This is the most basic level of submission. A boy is given an order or instruction and carries it out. Very basic, very unchallenging and also uninteresting, in my opinion. However, that doesn't mean that obedience is not required of a boy, no matter of how advanced a submissive he is. - Servitude
I don't know if I am completely happy with the term servitude, but for me it covers something more than mere obedience. Servitude implies a willingness to serve, not merely doing as you're told but also trying to please. Obedience is passive, servitude requires being more active. It also implies a certain level of trying to anticipate the needs and wishes of the Domme. To serve is more than to obey. - Humility
Humility literally means to place yourself lower than someone else, to make yourself more acceptable to another person. It is the highest form of submission that implies valuing other's wishes and demands higher than your own, even if those wishes run counter to your own. It is the most advanced form of submission and the one that runs deepest. It requires much more than obedience or servitude.
As on the weblog I mentioned, I'd like to close by saying the following:
Disclaimer: the above babble is just my opinion and no correctness or usefulness is implied.
Okay class, discuss!
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
On spanking
In our home, there are essentially three kinds of spanking. Not that they are so clearly separated all the time, but on the whole, it is quite easy for us to keep them separated.
- Punishment spanking
Fairly obvious what these are, I would say. Robert has messed up in some way or form and I make sure he learns his lesson. I do my best to make these spankings as memorable as possible for him and that does involve a good deal of bruises and difficulty sitting. They are also quite ritualized and are definitely not fun for him or for me, really. I'd rather not have to punish him. They are usually short, sharp and intensely painful. - Therapeutic spanking
Perhaps hard for some people to understand, but a good spanking can actually help Robert to relax. Sometimes, when the poor thing comes home after a stressful day at work, I can just tell he needs one. Like others need a back rub, Robert needs some good swats to the extreme lower end of his back. While these spankings obviously hurt (every spanking causes some amount of pain), they are not nearly as painful as a punishment spanking. The relaxing effect is caused by endorphins released into the bloodstream as a result of the pain. Endorphins are natural opiates, which of course help to relax the muscles and the mind. Think of a therapeutic spanking as a very intense massage and you won't be far off. - Fun spanking
These are probably the hardest for others to understand. How can a spanking be fun? Well, they certainly are not always fun for Robert in the sense that he does not enjoy them, though on some level he does. Fun spankings are very much fun for me, obviously. For Robert they range from mildly painful and a rosy backside to nearly the same intensity as a punishment spanking...or even more. Why does a fun spanking hurt more than a punishment spanking, you may ask. Well, maybe you are not going to ask, but I'm going to tell you anyway. Robert likes to be challenged on occasion, and I like to challenge him. I like to see how far I can push him, how red and sore I can make him before he desires to stop. In a way, he loves to suffer for me, he wants to accept the pain I inflict on his backside, not because he was bad, but because he knows how much I enjoy spanking him. He takes pride in accepting the spanking, in the marks I leave on his bottom and he loves the way the spanking underlines his position. He enjoys going to work and feeling the warmth and soreness all day as he sits down. He says it makes him feel close to me. Nobody knows about the pink panties under his trousers, the bruises on his bottom but me and him. It creates an intimate bond, sharing that secret and living our secret lives.
The picture included with this post, I found on the weblog "Over her knee". I hope the artist does not mind me using this delightful image as an illustration for my post. Should you mind, please let me know and I will remove it. It is not my intent to steal other's work.
Monday, 14 September 2009
The joy of orgasm control
For those that know about my lifestyle (and that's not a large number of people), it is no secret that I am very fond of orgasm control. I say orgasm control and not orgasm denial, because I don't believe in (total) orgasm denial. While women seem to have no biological need to have orgasms (not that we don't like them!), for the male body it is necessary to expel semen on a fairly regular basis. There seems to be sufficient medical information that indicates it is necessary to maintain prostate health. And indeed, who needs a bunch of stale "swimmers"? Of course nature has taken care of that and even without any form of stimulation a deprived male will experience spontaneous nightly emissions.
And that, I say, is a complete waste. Why bother with spontaneous nightly emissions when you can instead take charge of his emissions? Don't let him or nature determine when he can expel his semen, but take control as a Domme. Have him cum if, when and how you wish. It is necessary for a man to expel his semen fairly regularly, but nowhere does it say that he must do so by orgasm, at least not a full orgasm. This offers us an interesting option to explore.
I think every Domme out there has experienced that no matter how submissive a boy is, as soon as he has cum, his submission drops. The opposite is also true. Things a boy normally would have difficulty with, become acceptable when he is sufficiently aroused. There are two ways to deal with this. One is to wait until his arousal is high again. The other is to ensure that his arousal does not drop, so his submission remains high. In practice, I use a combination of the two, but with emphasis on the latter. While Robert (my "boy" or submissive) does get to cum fully and completely on occasion, I tend to limit this to special days or special treats or just because I feel generous. For example, his last full orgasm was on August 28. Since that date, all other orgasms have been ruined orgasms. This has the distinct benefit that he gets to expel his semen and there's no lazy batch of stale "swimmers" clogging up the plumbing, while simultaneously not allowing him to achieve a full orgasm and denying him satisfaction. There's hardly any dip in his submission because his brain has not experienced an orgasm. Therefore his physical health is not endangered. I am not making any assurances about his mental health, though...
In theory, a boy would never have to experience a full orgasm this way and I am sure that there are some boys who never get beyond a ruined orgasm. However, I find this too severe. I like to see Robert orgasm for me and I like to give him permission to do so. He must earn it at times and I may deny him for a few days, but what would his incentive be to serve me well if I never allowed him to cum to his full satisfaction? I also love to hear him ask for permission to cum. But why would he honestly ask, beg and plead if I never allow him his pleasure? He knows that there is always a chance that I will allow it, even though I may put a condition on it.
I plan to write more about orgasm control in the future, describing techniques that I like to use and my experiences with them. I will also discuss Roberts response to them. In return, I'd love to hear the techniques used by other Dommes out there. Do you deny your subs, and if so how long? What are your favourite techniques, etc. Or, if you are a boy under orgasm control, please let me know how it is working for you and what you must endure.
And that, I say, is a complete waste. Why bother with spontaneous nightly emissions when you can instead take charge of his emissions? Don't let him or nature determine when he can expel his semen, but take control as a Domme. Have him cum if, when and how you wish. It is necessary for a man to expel his semen fairly regularly, but nowhere does it say that he must do so by orgasm, at least not a full orgasm. This offers us an interesting option to explore.
I think every Domme out there has experienced that no matter how submissive a boy is, as soon as he has cum, his submission drops. The opposite is also true. Things a boy normally would have difficulty with, become acceptable when he is sufficiently aroused. There are two ways to deal with this. One is to wait until his arousal is high again. The other is to ensure that his arousal does not drop, so his submission remains high. In practice, I use a combination of the two, but with emphasis on the latter. While Robert (my "boy" or submissive) does get to cum fully and completely on occasion, I tend to limit this to special days or special treats or just because I feel generous. For example, his last full orgasm was on August 28. Since that date, all other orgasms have been ruined orgasms. This has the distinct benefit that he gets to expel his semen and there's no lazy batch of stale "swimmers" clogging up the plumbing, while simultaneously not allowing him to achieve a full orgasm and denying him satisfaction. There's hardly any dip in his submission because his brain has not experienced an orgasm. Therefore his physical health is not endangered. I am not making any assurances about his mental health, though...
In theory, a boy would never have to experience a full orgasm this way and I am sure that there are some boys who never get beyond a ruined orgasm. However, I find this too severe. I like to see Robert orgasm for me and I like to give him permission to do so. He must earn it at times and I may deny him for a few days, but what would his incentive be to serve me well if I never allowed him to cum to his full satisfaction? I also love to hear him ask for permission to cum. But why would he honestly ask, beg and plead if I never allow him his pleasure? He knows that there is always a chance that I will allow it, even though I may put a condition on it.
I plan to write more about orgasm control in the future, describing techniques that I like to use and my experiences with them. I will also discuss Roberts response to them. In return, I'd love to hear the techniques used by other Dommes out there. Do you deny your subs, and if so how long? What are your favourite techniques, etc. Or, if you are a boy under orgasm control, please let me know how it is working for you and what you must endure.
Saturday, 12 September 2009
Rules of the mansion
As I mentioned in my previous post, I am married with my submissive, my boy. I like to address him as boy, which underlines the fact that he is so much younger than me. It does wonders for my ego, to have a young man at home, pampering me and I enjoy to be pampered (this has nothing to do with nappies, mind you!).
Since we live together as husband and wife (to the outside world at least), this gives us the possibility to play 24/7. Of course we don't do that. You have to be able to step outside of the roles when needed. When he is ill, for instance (men are such babies when it comes to feeling a little under the weather). We need to be able to discuss things as equals. But there is a clear understanding that in all discussions, my word is final. He accepts this as a matter of course, the good boy that he is.
While we discuss things as equals, we do have a set of rules that I insist upon and that I'd like to share with you.
Duties
Since we live together as husband and wife (to the outside world at least), this gives us the possibility to play 24/7. Of course we don't do that. You have to be able to step outside of the roles when needed. When he is ill, for instance (men are such babies when it comes to feeling a little under the weather). We need to be able to discuss things as equals. But there is a clear understanding that in all discussions, my word is final. He accepts this as a matter of course, the good boy that he is.
While we discuss things as equals, we do have a set of rules that I insist upon and that I'd like to share with you.
Duties
- I will cook, but he will set the table and do the washing up. Reason for this is that he could not cook to save his life.
- He will do all the cleaning around the house.
- He will keep the garden well kept and neat.
- He will do the laundry and ironing.
- He will keep all toys and instruments clean and ready for immediate use.
- He will shave his face daily.
- He will wear neat and clean clothing where ever he goes.
- He will get frequent hair cuts.
- He will keep his nails trimmed.
- He will change his underwear daily, his socks at least once every two days.
- He will make sure his shoes are neatly shined.
- He will wear panties of my choice, unless instructed otherwise. This means he is in panties 95% of the time. The other 5% is made up of times when he wears no underwear at all or male underwear, when he needs to go somewhere were people might see his undergarments.
- He will keep his genitals shaved and will shave his bottom once a week. I can't stand a hairy bottom.
- He will not masturbate without permission. Period. No exceptions.
- He will not look at pornographic imagery with one exception and that is pornography which depicts submissive males.
- He will speak to me respectfully at all times, even when in public. He will not use obscenities or raise his voice to me.
Friday, 11 September 2009
A Domme is born
I consider myself to be a natural born Domme. How do I know that? Well, I still have a kindergarten report card which says that I tend to be bossy towards the other children. And I suppose that was true then. I've always been quite dominant in my relationships with others. I grew up in a small village and had many friends there. Of course, we often visited each other's house to play. One of the favorite places we had to play, was in the backyard of my best friend. They had a shed there, where we had toys and things. We often "played house" and invariably I ended up being the "mother" of several boys and girls. And yes, when they were "naughty", "Mommy" would have to spank them. It was curious how many boys/girls went over Mommy's knee and were fascinated by it.
Because of this, I believe that I was born a Domme. Somehow, there's some gene in my body which makes me the way I am.
Of course, as I got older, less and less of my friends were interested in playing house. Curiously though, there was one boy around my age who continued to have an interest in playing house, or rather the spanking part of it. Slowly our play moved away from playing house and started revolving completely around spanking. Most of the time it was me who was spanking him but we also tried it the other way around. We started meeting secretly at his parents' house. They were gone a lot of the time, so that gave us ample time. Our games were very innocent and involved only the bottom being bare and just gentle spankings, but somehow we knew very well that what we were doing was "strange". Or rather, other people would find it strange. Instinctively, we hid our activities from everyone else.
Moving into our teens, we continued playing together. We also became more interested in other aspects of our body, of course. Our games reflected that by becoming more physical. Spanking on the bare bottom was still a large part of it but we expanded it with more nudity and sometimes bondage. By this time it was always me who was in the dominant role. My friend (I never considered him as my boyfriend though most everyone else did) became the "victim" of many of my early fantasies of domination. In that time, I devoured books and comics where there was some form of punishment, embarrassment or something similar involved. I would read them and get this strange, warm feeling which I did not yet recognize as sexual arousal. My friends arousal was of course more obvious than mine, all the more because he never got to see me naked, in underwear at the most. I became fascinated with his erect penis, since it apparently produced such intense feelings in him when I played with it. That fascination to tease and torment a penis lasts until this day.
Our games were cruelly interrupted when his family moved overseas. Despite promises to keep in touch, our letters became less and less frequent until finally our contact stopped completely. I have never seen him again. By mentioning the word "letters", am I betraying my age here?
His sudden departure meant the beginning of a long dry spell for me where it came to domination. As more and more of my friends became seriously involved with young men, I started feeling peer pressure to have a stable relationship with a nice guy. It was also the time where I left my parents' home to move to the big city for my education. Finally free of an obsessively concerned mother, I could explore my feelings deeper and more freely. However, I was still careful should anyone find out my secret. In an effort to learn more about my interest, I started frequenting the library (oops, another sign of my age) for books about the subject. I did not dare borrow them, instead I wrapped them in a magazine and read them in a quiet corner at the library itself. Strange, condemning words leapt at me from the pages: "deviant", "aberrant", "abnormal" and the worst one of all: "perverse". These words hurt me deeply. I was apparently a sick person. I was perverse. I was sexually deviant. Apparently, my illness even had a name: sadism. I felt branded.
Convinced that I somehow needed to be cured, I looked for a way to do that. The answer seemed obvious: I needed to find a normal man. I became convinced that if I found myself a normal man to fall in love with, that somehow these feelings would go away. And as luck would have it, I met a normal man. A very decent, caring, loving, strong and dependable man. The ideal son-in-law. Marriage material. And before I knew it, I was in the caught up in the stream of engagement leading to marriage leading to pregnancy. We had a son. We had a daughter. We worked normal jobs, had a normal life and my mother approved. I was happy.
Or so I told myself. But underneath it all lurked the monster. My perversion. Oh sure, I tried to suppress it. I tried to ignore it. I tried to run away from it. But I could not. It was as much part of me as my arm. Every now and then, it popped up its ugly head into our sex life. I loved to be on top (and hubby loved me to be on top too) but when I suggested to experiment a bit by tying him to the bed board, he refused. He said that it wasn't for him. He did want to tie me to the bed though, but I didn't feel for that. I didn't realize it then, but I think this was the end of our marriage. My monster went unfulfilled and became more and more hungry. As the years passed, we grew apart, each leading our own lives, caring for our children, holding up the appearance of a marriage.
By this time, we had the Internet in our home as well. And like it or not, the monster compelled me to look up things about it. At first a little but it became more and more. There was a wealth of information out there. And slowly, I became less convinced that I was in fact sick. Maybe the monster was not so much of a monster after all. I read stories, saw photos, discovered that there were many, many more people out there who were like me. That there were men who wanted to meet women like me, desperately.
However, not being very technical and unable to cover my tracks (not even aware I was leaving them), it was only a matter of time before my husband discovered what our computer had been used for. At first he thought it was our son, but the poor boy was hardly old enough to have developed such a profound interest already, let alone grasp English. I confessed that it had been me. And for the very first time in my life, I openly told someone face to face about my deepest, hidden desires. My poor husband, shocked as he was that his wife had such a dark side to her, did his best to comprehend. We talked, we laughed together, we cried together and slowly reached the conclusion that our relationship had reached a point where we didn't have much of anything in common any more. We weren't angry, just sad yet somehow also strangely relieved. We divorced on good terms shortly afterwards and fortunately to this day, we have remained friends.
And there I was, single again, though a mother of two. But this time I was more confident and started to explore my feelings more openly. My resolve strengthened by the things I read online, the knowledge that there were others out there like myself, I joined a web forum about BDSM. I also knew more about computers now and knew to be careful with my identity.
When I came out of the closet as a Domme on this forum, I was swamped by messages by men who were looking for someone like me. The desperation of some of these men, the way they addressed me, shocked me to the core. I was called things that I never even had believed I would be called in my wildest dreams. "Goddess", "Mistress" or "Lady" were common, as was the term "Madam" or "Ma'am". I allowed the use of the latter since it is more a generic way of addressing someone, although polite. Many jumped me, telling me what they wanted me to do to them. That was just wrong to my mind. I was the Domme. Shouldn't I be telling them what they should do for me?
On this forum, I met a young man (I say young because he is almost 10 years my junior) by the name of Robert (which is not really his name, of course). He seemed very different from many of the others. For one, he seemed very interested in pleasing me, not himself. He seemed open to the things I told him I enjoyed or would like to try once. We chatted privately more often. And before long, we decided to meet (we weren't that far apart, fortunately). Incredibly, we got along amazingly well. We share our sense of humour, we like many of the same films, the same type of trips, everything. Plus, we are a perfect match when it comes to the type of play. Little more than a year later, we got married. And for the first time in my life, I can say I am complete. I am truly happy and do not have to try and fool myself or deny who I am. I am a happily married Domme and wife (yes, in that order). Life as a Domme has so many perks for me. For one, imagine the looks of murderous jealousy I get from the other ladies at the office Christmas party when I proudly strut in with a man almost ten years younger than me, who takes my coat, fetches me something to drink and things like that. When they ask me how I managed to do that, I just give a wink. If only they knew how I keep him in line...
Because of this, I believe that I was born a Domme. Somehow, there's some gene in my body which makes me the way I am.
Of course, as I got older, less and less of my friends were interested in playing house. Curiously though, there was one boy around my age who continued to have an interest in playing house, or rather the spanking part of it. Slowly our play moved away from playing house and started revolving completely around spanking. Most of the time it was me who was spanking him but we also tried it the other way around. We started meeting secretly at his parents' house. They were gone a lot of the time, so that gave us ample time. Our games were very innocent and involved only the bottom being bare and just gentle spankings, but somehow we knew very well that what we were doing was "strange". Or rather, other people would find it strange. Instinctively, we hid our activities from everyone else.
Moving into our teens, we continued playing together. We also became more interested in other aspects of our body, of course. Our games reflected that by becoming more physical. Spanking on the bare bottom was still a large part of it but we expanded it with more nudity and sometimes bondage. By this time it was always me who was in the dominant role. My friend (I never considered him as my boyfriend though most everyone else did) became the "victim" of many of my early fantasies of domination. In that time, I devoured books and comics where there was some form of punishment, embarrassment or something similar involved. I would read them and get this strange, warm feeling which I did not yet recognize as sexual arousal. My friends arousal was of course more obvious than mine, all the more because he never got to see me naked, in underwear at the most. I became fascinated with his erect penis, since it apparently produced such intense feelings in him when I played with it. That fascination to tease and torment a penis lasts until this day.
Our games were cruelly interrupted when his family moved overseas. Despite promises to keep in touch, our letters became less and less frequent until finally our contact stopped completely. I have never seen him again. By mentioning the word "letters", am I betraying my age here?
His sudden departure meant the beginning of a long dry spell for me where it came to domination. As more and more of my friends became seriously involved with young men, I started feeling peer pressure to have a stable relationship with a nice guy. It was also the time where I left my parents' home to move to the big city for my education. Finally free of an obsessively concerned mother, I could explore my feelings deeper and more freely. However, I was still careful should anyone find out my secret. In an effort to learn more about my interest, I started frequenting the library (oops, another sign of my age) for books about the subject. I did not dare borrow them, instead I wrapped them in a magazine and read them in a quiet corner at the library itself. Strange, condemning words leapt at me from the pages: "deviant", "aberrant", "abnormal" and the worst one of all: "perverse". These words hurt me deeply. I was apparently a sick person. I was perverse. I was sexually deviant. Apparently, my illness even had a name: sadism. I felt branded.
Convinced that I somehow needed to be cured, I looked for a way to do that. The answer seemed obvious: I needed to find a normal man. I became convinced that if I found myself a normal man to fall in love with, that somehow these feelings would go away. And as luck would have it, I met a normal man. A very decent, caring, loving, strong and dependable man. The ideal son-in-law. Marriage material. And before I knew it, I was in the caught up in the stream of engagement leading to marriage leading to pregnancy. We had a son. We had a daughter. We worked normal jobs, had a normal life and my mother approved. I was happy.
Or so I told myself. But underneath it all lurked the monster. My perversion. Oh sure, I tried to suppress it. I tried to ignore it. I tried to run away from it. But I could not. It was as much part of me as my arm. Every now and then, it popped up its ugly head into our sex life. I loved to be on top (and hubby loved me to be on top too) but when I suggested to experiment a bit by tying him to the bed board, he refused. He said that it wasn't for him. He did want to tie me to the bed though, but I didn't feel for that. I didn't realize it then, but I think this was the end of our marriage. My monster went unfulfilled and became more and more hungry. As the years passed, we grew apart, each leading our own lives, caring for our children, holding up the appearance of a marriage.
By this time, we had the Internet in our home as well. And like it or not, the monster compelled me to look up things about it. At first a little but it became more and more. There was a wealth of information out there. And slowly, I became less convinced that I was in fact sick. Maybe the monster was not so much of a monster after all. I read stories, saw photos, discovered that there were many, many more people out there who were like me. That there were men who wanted to meet women like me, desperately.
However, not being very technical and unable to cover my tracks (not even aware I was leaving them), it was only a matter of time before my husband discovered what our computer had been used for. At first he thought it was our son, but the poor boy was hardly old enough to have developed such a profound interest already, let alone grasp English. I confessed that it had been me. And for the very first time in my life, I openly told someone face to face about my deepest, hidden desires. My poor husband, shocked as he was that his wife had such a dark side to her, did his best to comprehend. We talked, we laughed together, we cried together and slowly reached the conclusion that our relationship had reached a point where we didn't have much of anything in common any more. We weren't angry, just sad yet somehow also strangely relieved. We divorced on good terms shortly afterwards and fortunately to this day, we have remained friends.
And there I was, single again, though a mother of two. But this time I was more confident and started to explore my feelings more openly. My resolve strengthened by the things I read online, the knowledge that there were others out there like myself, I joined a web forum about BDSM. I also knew more about computers now and knew to be careful with my identity.
When I came out of the closet as a Domme on this forum, I was swamped by messages by men who were looking for someone like me. The desperation of some of these men, the way they addressed me, shocked me to the core. I was called things that I never even had believed I would be called in my wildest dreams. "Goddess", "Mistress" or "Lady" were common, as was the term "Madam" or "Ma'am". I allowed the use of the latter since it is more a generic way of addressing someone, although polite. Many jumped me, telling me what they wanted me to do to them. That was just wrong to my mind. I was the Domme. Shouldn't I be telling them what they should do for me?
On this forum, I met a young man (I say young because he is almost 10 years my junior) by the name of Robert (which is not really his name, of course). He seemed very different from many of the others. For one, he seemed very interested in pleasing me, not himself. He seemed open to the things I told him I enjoyed or would like to try once. We chatted privately more often. And before long, we decided to meet (we weren't that far apart, fortunately). Incredibly, we got along amazingly well. We share our sense of humour, we like many of the same films, the same type of trips, everything. Plus, we are a perfect match when it comes to the type of play. Little more than a year later, we got married. And for the first time in my life, I can say I am complete. I am truly happy and do not have to try and fool myself or deny who I am. I am a happily married Domme and wife (yes, in that order). Life as a Domme has so many perks for me. For one, imagine the looks of murderous jealousy I get from the other ladies at the office Christmas party when I proudly strut in with a man almost ten years younger than me, who takes my coat, fetches me something to drink and things like that. When they ask me how I managed to do that, I just give a wink. If only they knew how I keep him in line...
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
A new blogger in town
Seems like nowadays, everyone is starting a weblog. Or begins Twittering...or so I'm told. Is it okay to call someone who twits all day an old twit? Never mind, just a thought.
On that note, welcome to my spanking new weblog. Nice, my second pun in less than four lines.
I suppose, since this is my first post, I should be telling you a little something about me, this weblog, etc. You agree? Okay, here it goes. My name is Barbara and that is not my real name. It is a pseudonym. Or alias, if you prefer. I will call it a pseudonym because it sounds better and shows off my education more effectively. I paid enough for it, I might as well show it off (anyone who points out a spelling mistake after this point, gets a punch in the nose, okay?). Secondly, I called this weblog "A Domestic Domme" because that is what I am and because I like the alliteration. I promise I will put the dictionary away now.
With Domme, I mean of course that I am a Dominant Lady. I am not a leather clad Dominatrix, not a Goddess or anything of the sort, not a Princess or a Queen, not a Mistress or any other title. If some people want to use titles, that's fine by me. But I am yet to meet the first person who calls me Goddess to my face and should that ever happen, I am sure to laugh at the poor fellow until I get a nosebleed. My name is Barbara. Okay, it really isn't, see above, but let's not complicate matters further.
So much for the Domme bit. Now on to the Domestic bit. Why Domestic? Well, to most of the outside world I am probably just an average woman, of average age, with an average job, living in an average part of town, with average friends and an average house, an average husband and two very non-average cats. But I guess that goes for all cats, which would make my two cats extremely average as far as cats are concerned and now I've gone and given myself a headache. Still with me? Good!
I'm just trying to say that no one (unless they had psychic powers) would be able to guess that I am a Domme. I don't stomp around in leather boots, go to play-parties, carry a riding crop with me where ever I go and my husband does not wear a collar. Our play happens in the house, in private.
What can you expect of this weblog? Well, I am not sure yet. I can tell you a bit about what NOT to expect, if that helps you. This weblog will not contain:
Okay, enough rambling for now.
On that note, welcome to my spanking new weblog. Nice, my second pun in less than four lines.
I suppose, since this is my first post, I should be telling you a little something about me, this weblog, etc. You agree? Okay, here it goes. My name is Barbara and that is not my real name. It is a pseudonym. Or alias, if you prefer. I will call it a pseudonym because it sounds better and shows off my education more effectively. I paid enough for it, I might as well show it off (anyone who points out a spelling mistake after this point, gets a punch in the nose, okay?). Secondly, I called this weblog "A Domestic Domme" because that is what I am and because I like the alliteration. I promise I will put the dictionary away now.
With Domme, I mean of course that I am a Dominant Lady. I am not a leather clad Dominatrix, not a Goddess or anything of the sort, not a Princess or a Queen, not a Mistress or any other title. If some people want to use titles, that's fine by me. But I am yet to meet the first person who calls me Goddess to my face and should that ever happen, I am sure to laugh at the poor fellow until I get a nosebleed. My name is Barbara. Okay, it really isn't, see above, but let's not complicate matters further.
So much for the Domme bit. Now on to the Domestic bit. Why Domestic? Well, to most of the outside world I am probably just an average woman, of average age, with an average job, living in an average part of town, with average friends and an average house, an average husband and two very non-average cats. But I guess that goes for all cats, which would make my two cats extremely average as far as cats are concerned and now I've gone and given myself a headache. Still with me? Good!
I'm just trying to say that no one (unless they had psychic powers) would be able to guess that I am a Domme. I don't stomp around in leather boots, go to play-parties, carry a riding crop with me where ever I go and my husband does not wear a collar. Our play happens in the house, in private.
What can you expect of this weblog? Well, I am not sure yet. I can tell you a bit about what NOT to expect, if that helps you. This weblog will not contain:
- pornographic images
So if you've come for that, I'm sorry to say you are in the wrong place - images of my husband or me
I'm not comfortable with sharing such images with the rest of the world, so I won't. The picture in my profile? No idea who she is, but it's not me for sure. I'm not blond. Then again, I might be and I am telling you I'm not, just to confuse you. - detailed information about my husband or me
You do not need to know who I am.
Okay, enough rambling for now.
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