Meat this!

Tom’s got another meaty one. (Perverts. Post. He’s got a meaty post.)

I’m going to start by highlighting the bit I especially loved.

[B]being locked up does not make me feel less manly, less assertive, less randy, or less anything. It makes me feel … more.

Way. In my experience, denial is like turning the saturation way up on a TV. When it’s really humming, it makes all my senses crackle. It’s a beautiful thing. Regular readers will know that I don’t always feel this way and sometimes being denied does result in me feeling less, but I think that’s more a result of Belle and I still getting a hang of all the buttons and switches (overlaid with the normal ebbs and flows of the human psyche) than it is the fault of the denial.

And who in fuck’s name would want to feel less? Can that even be a thing? Getting off on feeling less? Anyway…

Tom goes on to say:

Personally, I’ve been reading so much about what people consider to be “submission” and “submissiveness” that I have decided to disassociate myself from the term altogether; virtually nothing of what I’ve been reading seems to apply to me, so instead of trying to defend my own submissiveness, or more correctly, those certain feelings that I get that I used to associate with submissiveness, I’m just going to move on to some other scale and call it something else. Or maybe I won’t call it anything; I’ll just feel them and describe what I can.

This really speaks to me, too. I mean, that’s kind of what this was all about, right?

The way my brain figures out new things is by looking at similar things to understand how they’re supposed to work. I suppose everyone does this to some extent, but I do it a lot. Pretty much to a fault. Sometimes, this is a really good strategy (like when learning language or how a logical system operates), but in the case of human sexuality, this is a really lame way to go about it. Coming to all this submissiveness stuff late in life, I did my usual thing and looked for analogs of what I thought I was. Tom was one of those as were a number of other bloggers (along, even, with some porn which, of course, is a Really Bad Idea™). Bottom line is I kept comparing myself to a bunch of “ideals” and coming up short. There are a few I feel I’m more like than others, but none of them fit. Obviously, this is because human sexuality is infinitely variable. It’s not an operating system or a machine (even though I used that metaphor above). It’s a messy tangle of crossed wires and gooey dark corners that’s always bubbling and morphing and slithering along in unexpected directions.

Long way around to say the obvious: labeling a human’s sexual quirks can be damaging. If Tom wants to shed his submissive cloak, more power to him. I think there are more ways for otherwise “submissive” men to be different than there are for them to be the same. Case in point is our views on service, but I’ll get to that later. First…

It’s amusing to see that the selling points for male chastity devices tend to focus on either making your man more “romantic”, or on making him do more household chores. … But is this actually true, or is it a stereotype that plays on the idea that sex is something that men want, and  women parcel out according to whim?

I have tried to run away from this stereotype and in doing so have beat myself up (only figuratively, alas) for not Doing It Right, but the thing is, yeah, being locked up and denied does tend to make me a better mate to Belle. I’m much more attentive to her, much more in tune with what she needs, and much more willing to sacrifice what I want in order to give her what she wants.

But for us, the device is only a catalyst. What it represents is a level of commitment on Belle’s part to our relationship that, frankly, I didn’t feel for years (and she didn’t feel it back from me, either). Now, because she locks up the cock, because she denies me orgasm, because she takes advantage of my desire to serve her, I am fully engaged with her and our relationship like I haven’t been for about a decade. Likewise, she sees a commitment from me though my dealing with the device, giving her the cock to control, and trying my hardest to be of service to her. Did the device do that? Or did I? I think it was both of us.

Too many people think chastity devices are like magical talismans that are good for whatever ails you. Like any tool, it’s how you use it that counts. Just because there’s a thing involved, people incorrectly assign the improvements in their relationship to the device when in fact they should be taking the credit themselves. Successfully integrating chastity is hard work that, when done correctly, bears a lot of fruit. But it’s the fact that they’re doing the work that makes it work, not whatever thing they’ve chosen to play with.

Never not once has any woodworker said, “Gee, that hammer really made a great bookcase!”

The last bit of Tom’s post I want to flog is the part about service. Or, more specifically, how the concept of being a service sub just isn’t lighting any fires over at the Allen Ranch. I tried to find that one salient blurb that fully captured his sentiment, but really, it’s the entire last four paragraphs of his port. If you haven’t already, go read it.

I’ll wait…

OK.

He does a pretty good job of knocking the whole service concept about the head and face, and I think that we probably have a fair bit of common ground around this, but I also think he’s missing some of the point.

I know (or, at least, I read) that some people actually get a sexual charge from performing service. I do not. He talks about how he doesn’t “drip with sexual excitement” when he brings Mrs. Edge a cup of coffee, and while I get Belle coffee all the time, it’s never caused me to drip anything (other than the occasional bit I’ve spilled). It isn’t the act of doing what she says that gets me off. In fact, it’s often a bit of a downer. I’d rather be updating my portfolio or playing on the PS3 or whatever. But, in a way I admit to not being fully able to put into coherent words yet, I love being her tool. I think of myself as her live-in manservant. Whatever she tells me to do, I will do, whether I want to or not, because that’s my position. I live to serve her. Even when I don’t want to, I want her to make me.

People have left comments here before about this and how it’s not really service and that all I’m doing is being a responsible partner in the marriage, yadda yadda. First of all, I think they’re underestimating the amount of work I do for her. I do 98% of all the laundry in our house of four people. I cook most of the meals. I make the beds, etc., etc. As Belle has said, she doesn’t really need to do much of anything around the house anymore. She will do things, but only because she wants to, not because she has to. Also, they miss what can’t be seen on the outside. It’s my intention to serve her. When I do it, I may not be enjoying the actual work, but I get a warmnfuzzy feeling inside. When she tells me I’m doing a good job, I similarly feel a warm flush. This isn’t necessarily sexual (though the context of when she says it makes a difference).

Here’s an example. Likes I said in my previous post (which, by the way, I’m really not that happy with – they can’t all be winners), Belle offered to let me out of the device so I could enjoy the cock being played with, but only if I got all the laundry done on Saturday. That was a lot of laundry. It took hours. But, when we were in bed and she had unlocked me and she was petting the cock and telling me what a good job I had done and how I had earned the time out…Jesus! I was over-the-moon kind of happy. Maybe one of the most satisfying few moments of our entire D/s adventure thus far. I felt totally beholden to her. I felt so happy that she appreciated my work. I felt totally and completely under her control. It was awesome.

Unlike Tom writing in general about service and not getting in the slightest turned on by it, my writing the previous paragraph has left me with a seriously full tube. So he doesn’t work that way. Whatever. Does that mean he’s not a “real” submissive? Fuck if I know. Honestly, who cares? I feel kind of the same way about the sissified guys out there who want to be put in panties and frilly little dresses as he does about service. Does that mean I’m not submissive? Or they’re not? Or they are, buy too much?

As long as, at the end of the day, we’re all healthy and happy, then we’re Doing It Right. Call it whatever you want.

P.S. I apologize for the lame post title, but after all that, I couldn’t come up with anything pithy. It happens to everyone sooner or later…or so I’m told.

[Via http://denyingthumper.com]

84 - Once

And this was also love: to lie beneath

Your body (that sweet burden) and belong

To you completely, almost: feel you breathe

Above & through me, there. But I’ve been wrong

Too badly, since, too often, don’t deserve

To touch even the earth that touched your feet,

Or share yr space: then how much less to curve

My limbs into your curves, become yr seat.

O let my dreaming lie as lightly round

Your shoulders as a shawl. And let my words

Not hurt but only brush you with their sound -

Fly quickly thru your consciousness like birds

And let you come & go as freely as

My mouth allows the air, and ears do music.

[Via http://jnescio.wordpress.com]

Conditioning her response

“I want you to close your eyes, and feel everything below your knees start to relax…”

For the past three or four weeks there has been one fantasy on babykat’s mind. Scratch all your typical play fantasies, and enter babykat’s mind; nightly hypnosis, triggers and a growing addiction to Mummy’s voice. It’s not often her fantasies lack physical play but, she’s becoming a real hypnoslut. Blame Batling’s perfect voice…

It’s almost as if masochism has taken a back seat with babykat’s growing fascination and addiction to hypnosis. And sure, it does make S/m play with Batling a whole lot more intense anyway. Even just a completely clean chat with Batling on the phone produces a reaction in babykat’s pussy. Picking up the phone and hearing the voice that guides her into a trance, the only voice that can make her nervous and full of sick excitement at the same time… the voice that orders her to cum. She can’t disassociate Batling’s deadly ‘I know exactly what’s in that mind of yours, and I’m going to torment you with it’ voice with her ‘how’s your day been, sweetheart?’ voice, and as a result hearing either makes her rub her little pussy down against her panties and imagine that voice in telling her what a whore she is. Batling’s voice is the sweetest poison, and babykat feels very lucky knowing that such a hot voice belongs to her Owner.

Introducing triggers into trance sessions has stepped mind play up another level, taking it beyond simple suggestions or ‘lessons’ that affect babykat’s day-to-day life. Triggers give Batling that element of complete control over a decision babykat would otherwise have made herself. Which, of course, is what babykat had signed for when she nervously wrote her name at the bottom of her Slave Contract. She belongs to Batling now, and Batling can take as much control over her as she wants. Whether that be her orgasms, when she’s allowed her toys or when she goes to bed. It’s Batling’s to take.

Babykat felt really proud when her first trigger came as a surprise towards the end of a hypnosis session. She’d been at that stage of trance where she was aware it was being given, but not really the effect it would have on her. But it was that little switch Batling had installed inside her that made babykat feel completely special. She wanted to tell people, point out that nobody else could trip the switch, how only Batling could produce that particular response. She wanted people to know she now had no choice over that decision. What a hypnowhore.

Her second trigger came about exactly for that reason. Babykat wanted to have her right to cum taken away from her, because she wanted Batling to have even more control. She’d never felt so safe, loved, really owned before. Of course, she’d never been owned real-time before, so it was natural, but she still had trouble hiding her delight.

It was around that point that babykat realised she was a pretty big fan of mind play. Sure, she’d been reading thisgirl’s blog posts on the topic and been interested, but it had still been far from passionate. And the scared feeling had turned into an excited one, which it probably just what happens when the something new is with somebody you adore. Especially when it’s their passion too. Babykat had just been given the trigger (come on, did you think she would tell you it?) that would deny her of the right to climax she’d been so used to taking for granted almost daily. But that’s the thing. She has no right anymore. She shouldn’t touch her pussy without permission, let alone take herself all the way to climax. Batling owns the right to touch babykat’s pussy now. It’s Batling’s climax. Maybe that’s why she takes so much pleasure from listening to babykat cum on the phone?

In fact, babykat is probably lucky that she doesn’t have to ask permission to go and use the bathroom, or to wear underwear during the day. Oh god, now babykat’s mind is filled with thoughts of having to ask Batling if she could go, and the humiliation she’d feel. Or to have to ask her each night for permission to wear panties the next day. Oh god, bad babykat. Stop thinking.

She’d never admit it to Mummy directly (oh wait, she reads her blog..) but she’d love exactly that. To let you into a secret, she does have this fantasy about complete control. Food, water, bodily functions.. the lot. Of course, it’s probably one of those things that will end up only staying a fantasy, at least for now. She isn’t sure she could cope with it for more than a few weeks at a time anyway.

Babykat had this thought a couple of weeks ago. She stressed herself out, wondering how on earth she was going to remember any more triggers. But of course, hypnosis isn’t about remembering. In fact, she’s realised just how much better it is if you can’t remember. Your Owner says something, and hey, you feel completely different. No awareness of why, how to change it or when it’ll switch back to how you felt before. That’s the way it’s been with babykat’s most recent hypnosis sessions with Batling. Subconsciously, hypnosis has felt much deeper. It isn’t like before, when she wasn’t comfortable enough to let herself relax completely. Babykat learnt to let herself space out from the distractions around her and let the voice in her ear become her everything long ago. This is different, and inexplicable. No decision or realisation made babykat shift from half remembering what’s been said, or at least the topic during trance. Even after relaxing into her first trigger session she still felt like she had to put a bit of effort into being hypnotised. As in, surely she should study every word to ensure they’re going into her mind, like when she’s revising for a test?

Oh no, that’s not what hypnosis is all about. Being the subject of a hypnosis session has one overriding meaning.

Surrender. Give up your control over your mind.

This was, in a sense, something babykat knew. Batling was going to tap into her mind, adjust the way she thinks and leave her none the wiser. But it still shocked her the first time.

The first time was when Batling called for a live hypnosis session. That was what had been the subject of babykat’s extensive fantasy. Hearing the voice she craves speaking the first words of the structure she’s so familiar with. Her response, the burning need that starts between her legs and over-sensitizes her whole body as Mummy’s voice flows through her. The reality didn’t disappoint. What followed after that session was an intense, teasingly drawn out play session, the kind that makes babykat’s heart skip a beat as she thinks back about it. The element that was tieing everything together was the incredible connection she felt with Batling. Different to anything before. Batling had a whole new level of control, knew it, and completely used it to her advantage. And babykat was only vaguely aware of why. If you asked her now, she couldn’t identify what made her feel so different. But it must have been a trigger, right?

Babykat had taken babykat into some deeper level of trance. She’s told her that much. And for the first time, babykat couldn’t remember what had been said to her during that live session. Racking her mind now, she can’t even remember finishing rubbing letters off the chalkboard. It’s no longer an awareness of her limbs, but simply that she can’t move them. The only way she can describe how she remembers feeling is as if she wasn’t even inside her body. As if it was just her mind, Batling’s voice, nothing else. She wasn’t even aware she’s was breathing, and even as Batling took her into the first level of trance, to the point where she’s asked to open her eyes and it’s so so difficult that the only thing she wants in the whole entire world is to hear Batling tell her to close them. She knows how shallow her breathing was then. Tiny, baby breaths, as if her body didn’t need the air. And then the memories stop.

Since that session, babykat hasn’t been scared. Even though every single session, she’s felt this way. Asleep. Gone. That’s a good word for it. She won’t even have her usual visualisation of climbing the stairs back to reality as Mummy counts her up. She’ll wake up for the last 3, 2, 1 and have no recollection of even which mp3 she’s listened to.

 

Classic conditioning: a form of associative learning involving a neutral stimulus along with a stimulus of some significance. Through the conditioning process, the individual is trained to associate the neutral stimulus with the significant stimulus. The end result is a behavioural response to the neutral stimulus, as if it were the significant. See wikipedia.

Babykat mentioned to Mummy that she might write a blog post about conditioning. It had been on her mind since she’d come across the original Pavlovian classic conditioning routine at college, and couldn’t help relating it back to blog posts she’d read about conditioning in a D/s relationship. This post is going to replace the conditioning post she would have done, but if you’re interested both these links are very informative. See here and here.

So maybe babykat’s interest sparked an idea for Batling’s live session? Babykat knows that certainly something said made babykat much more aroused, before she began touching herself. Is babykat going to be trained to cum on command for Mummy? And babykat’s fluttery stomach is back, just like that. See what thoughts about Batling do to her? The way she tells babykat to cum for her as she approaches her orgasm, and how that just pushes her over the edge, hearing that Mummy wants it, filled with a desire to please and be a good whore. Imagine if a word was to do that to her? Somehow, when it’s a word that could be used equally in normal conversation, the way it affects your mind is much more significant. Not only does nobody else know the trigger, but nobody else knows the implications when just that one ordinary word is said. In some ways it’s humiliating. To have become so controlled, and such a whore that it isn’t even something dirty that pushes you over the edge. But babykat likes being humiliated.

The newest fantasy on babykat’s mind is Mummy’s latest project. For which babykat is to be the research subject. But she hardly knows anything about it.  Just that she’s in love with her devious hypnoDomme.

Babykat can no longer remember how many triggers she has, or what it is Batling has control over. It’s an automatic response. Babykat is being conditioned the way Mummy wants and loves it. She’s her hypnoslut.

[Via http://thatbabykat.wordpress.com]

Back to School

Okay, my behind the scenes email of the last couple of days indicates that a little education may be in order …

Definitions:

DD – domestic discipline; a relationship based on traditional values with the husband (most typically) serving as the Head of Household (HOH) He almost always has the authority to punish his wife, often with spanking that may or may not be an erotic element in their relationship.

Kinky – those with an alternate (non-mainstream) sexuality.

Vanilla – those with a mainstream or non-kinky sexuality.

TTWD-That Thing We Do – relates to our sexuality and how we express it in our lives and in the bedroom. 

“BDSM” - is an acronym of “B&D” (Bondage & Discipline), “D&S” (Dominance & Submission), and “S&M” (sadomasochism). “BDSM” refers to any or all of these things, and a lot of stuff besides.

D/s – dominance and submission.  D/s relationship can be described as a relationship in which the exchange of power is a major dynamic. Unlike abusive relationships, however, D/s relationships are negotiated arrangements which meet the psychological, sexual, and social needs of all participants. The nature of each D/s relationship is unique, because the manner in which the power relationship is understood and practiced is a very personal matter. This can make such a relationship more difficult to understand, but it also allows those persons involved in a D/s relationship the flexibility to design a relationship that is tailored to fit their specific needs and desires.

For more information, here is a link to the Deviants’ Dictionary:

http://public.diversity.org.uk/deviant/ssdyndef.htm#WhatIsDs

And you can always ask me questions directly. 

[Via http://uniquelylibby.wordpress.com]

New Members Area on Website!!

I finally have a Members Area installed on my website! (www.mn-mistress.net )

This page is password protected! And how might you become one of the privileged who know the password? Once you have been a client of Mine, or one of Miss Chica’s, you can have access. Alternately, purchasing an MP3 hypnotic recording (soon to be available) or making a tribute on line will also qualify you for access. Once you meet one of these criteria, just ask! It’s that easy.

And what kind of content will be on the Members Area? In the future, that will depend on the feedback I get from you! For now, keep checking back as I add to the page.

Some of the things you can expect:

Photographic Art:  e.g., personal session photos or portraits

Stories: heavily erotic in nature or explicitly around BDSM themes

Possibly some erotic hypno tracks…!

I’m looking forward to your suggestions.

[Via http://ladycareina.wordpress.com]

Hump Day!!!!

I plan on doing some “humping” tonight!!! Of course, that depends on the direction of my session tonight. I’ve been busy cleaning and preparing for my submissive of this evening. I’m looking forward to the sensual torture and yes, what pain I do administer…not much, just enough to push the submissive’s boundaries a bit.

I know I will get what I seek out of the session…I’ve learned over the years that I get my jollies in various ways…sometimes it’s in the form of having a submissive perform oral sex on me just the way I like it until I cum on his tongue and mouth. I like taking the submissive’s ability to touch me away…having him spread-eagle bound and the leather hand mitts in place, ensures that the submissive must use his mouth and tongue and rely on my ability to instruct him on how to flick his tongue, how to lick my delicate clit…my juices flow nicely when I’m properly stimulated!!

Now, as to whether or not my submissive is allowed to realize his orgasm…that just depends. There are hopeless cases where I know I can’t bring that man to realize a relief that an orgasm will bring. I do love to watch a hard cock erupt spewing forth a large load of cum…nothing pleases me more…seriously, I would rather bring a man to orgasm by my hands where I can watch the result of my hard work than to straddle him and ride his cock like a live sex ride!!!

Don’t get me wrong, penetration is good and often a sought result to further along my second or third orgasm…but not necessarily something I indulge or engage in when sessioning…I do love it when a man begs to be allowed to cum…such a powerful experience!!!

Okay, enough lingering on the sex talk…I’m making myself horny!!! I’ve got to get through the work day first…get the day well in hand and get it done…I was extremely busy all day yesterday, so the day relatively flew by…I’m hoping today will be much of the same. Move the day along, move the week along…

Have a great Hump Day!!!

[Via http://thematuresexgoddess.wordpress.com]

Back In The Saddle Or Is That Back With the Paddle???

‘m getting everything set up for a mid-week, evening session…tomorrow night’s victim would like to have his ass reddened and heated…his balls stretched with a few weights, as well as some electro-play…and then be “forced” to service and please this Mistress…hmmmmmm, wonder what other diabolical tortures I can come/cum up with for our session???

I will lay my elements of torture out tonight and in the morning…that way, when I return home from work, I’ll have time to unwind and get in that Diabolical Mistress Zone!!

[Via http://thematuresexgoddess.wordpress.com]

The Dungeon - Part I

The time came to get ready to go to the dungeon, and Kyle got his things together as I prepared my bag.  I had on a dangerous fuchsia bra and a tight black faux-leather vest, along with a skirt that was far too short to wear in public and my long black Dom boots, and Kyle kept sneaking peeks and grinning like a very bad boy.  A few weeks earlier we had picked out a beautiful harness for him to try out, but he was having trouble getting the plug to stay in place.  I am nothing if not a considerate Sir, so of course I offered him my much-larger blue metallic plug that was sure to stay put (what can I say?  I just think blue looks so good with his…eyes…)  He wasn’t sure he could accommodate the size, but my boy came through in the end, even if it did mean walking with a bit more giddyup in his step.  He pulled on a gorgeous shirt and jeans, along with that infamous belt of his and he looked really damn fine, if I do say so myself.  I stood and stared, enjoying the view, but soon it was time to go, so I walked out to the car first, leaving Kyle to keep up with my bag so he could thoroughly enjoy the view, too.

On the drive to the dungeon Kyle was fairly quiet – I could tell that he was nervous, and I tried to reassure him by reminding him I’d be by his side the entire time.  For my part, I was really excited – thrilled to be out with such a hot guy, eager to share his first time at a dungeon with him – and I think I may have been talking too much (so much for being one of those cool, confident, silent Doms…)  When we got to the dungeon there was paperwork to fill out and then I showed him to the locker room to hang our jackets.  He excused himself to the little boys room and was SO proud of himself for getting everything back together when he was done, he was grinning ear to ear.  He picked up my bag (painfully heavy with chains and cuffs and paddles and my flogger and his subbie bag and all the other fun tools) and I walked him around the dungeon to show him the space.

We decided to start at the cross and I asked him to take out my toys and arrange them on the small table to the side.  (I love letting Kyle put out the toys – it gives him a chance to think over the possibilities and gets his mind racing.)  I stripped him to the waist and cuffed him to the cross (the eyehook was too high for him to reach, so I had to cuff him around the back of the cross) with his chest to the cross.  I pinched and massaged his nipples until they were really hard and ready and I positioned a pair of clover clamps on him, watching the expression on his face turn from nervousness to pain.  He swore a few times under his breath and bit his lip…it was beautiful.  I tugged on the clamps a couple times just to hear him suck in air – I mean, of course, just to make sure they were secure and then we got down to business.

Well, I tried to get down to business, but then one of the clamps came off.  Kyle’s face was a study in surprise and fear as I asked him if he had pulled it off on purpose – the poor boy knows well how unsympathetic I can be when he misbehaves.  I squeezed and pinched a bit more, enjoying his silent torment, and then replaced the clamp with a cruel tug.  Kyle is a beautiful man, but you haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen his face when he’s trying to overcome his pain and roguish nature – his submission is always hard-won and all the more gorgeous because of it.

Before the clamp had a chance to betray him again, I picked up the flogger and got back to business.

I love flogging – it requires grace and rhythm as well as strength and endurance for both the top and the bottom, and I love the meditative space we each fall into.  Kyle loves being flogged, too, and he responds with wonderful yummy sounds as his back arches and his muscles tense.  I flogged his shoulders, his back and his ass, but then realized that his jeans were getting in the way, so I stopped to pull them down around his ankles (damn, that’s a sexy image.)  I looked over to the table and saw the hood he had brought and tugged it on over his head, checking in with him to make sure he was ok with it.  (Yes, some people get off on brutality and extreme ownership, but Kyle and I enjoy domination by consensus – there’s no point in me doing something that will push him so much we have to stop.)  It’s a shame that cameras aren’t allowed in the space, because he looked so strong and sexy up on the cross.  I flogged his ass, his thighs, his calves, going up to start over on his back and shoulders again.  He bowed his head as I hit him, over and over, and his back was soon red with lash marks.   I pulled out my metal paddle and pressed it to his skin – the cold made him jump and woke him from the meditation.  Slowly I slid the hard, slick paddle between his thighs, teasing his cock while I kissed his back.  I gave him a few whacks on the ass, but then switched to the leather paddle he had given me, because the metal one’s a bit too harsh to take for long.  I worked my hardest to leave little star impressions in the skin of his ass, but the paddle wasn’t cooperating, so I had to hit him again and again, harder each time.

His back is strong and beautiful, but I was dying to work on his chest, so I uncuffed him and turned him around to face out.  His pants were still down around his ankles, and the hood was still covering his head, and he looked gorgeous.  I started flogging him, making sure to hit the chain between the nipple clamps occasionally so I could watch him jump and twist with pain.   I paddled and flogged, keeping up the tempo for quite awhile, and then stopped to remove his hood.  He blinked with the light and looked a bit nervous for a split second, but then stood up straight and shot me his bad boy grin.  I continued to beat my boy, loving the way he looked me in the eye, challenging me, egging me on.  That’s my sexy, handsome boy – no matter how much I give out, he’s always right there, begging for more.

[Via http://uncommoncuriosity.com]

Monday...Already?????

Where did the weekend go? I would have soooo loved to have slept in this morning, which I did to some extent. It’s cloudy and cold…perfect sleeping weather!!

But, here I am, trying to figure out what I will wear to work, what I will eat for breakfast, making sure my clothes for yoga tonight are where I can run in the house, change and head back out…then it will be home in time to watch 24 and see what Jack and Renee have gotten themselves into…

I’ve got to do some more house cleaning and decide on which direction to take one of my BDSM guys tomorrow night or Wednesday night…

One more cup of coffee and I’m on my way for the day…have a great Monday!!!

[Via http://thematuresexgoddess.wordpress.com]

Lol! ^^ I love my life.

A short while ago I was hogtied on the bed, with a Hitachi vibrator placed “just-so”, and Master running my toes over with the wartenburg wheel, trying to sit still…

Master:  “That’s right.  You’re my dirty little slut, aren’t you?!”

Me:  “No way, I am offended by that word…  ‘DIRTY’ ?!” 

Yeah, we both burst out laughing.  I love my life.

<3

[Via http://redvinylkitty.wordpress.com]

Photos Of The Goddess

Goddess Helena Taunts You With Her Terrifying Ass Of Power!

You Must Be Punished

Goddess Helena Is Ready To Dish It Out

[Via http://goddesshelena.wordpress.com]

Wednesday, Preparing...

This morning, I’m preparing for a session with dear subbie. I will be sessioning dear subbie this evening. Our schedules haven’t been able to coincide since before Christmas…well, schedules and weather…so, tonight, I am looking forward to stripping dear subbie naked and seeing what I can do with MY cock-meat and his man-pussy…

I’m looking forward to warming up his bare ass-cheeks and giving him a little lesson in discipline for a couple of transgressions he’s made since we last sessioned. I’ve laid out all the implements I want to use on him tonight…I do love having everything set and ready for my return home from the office, takes some of the hurry and rush of my day out of the equation.

The day is supposed to be another cold one, over-cast off and on as another cold front moves through…not as powerful as the last couple of fronts, but not allowing the sun to shine seems to cast a downing type mood to things.

Time to head to the shower…gotta get around in a timely manner. Have a great Hump Day!!!

[Via http://thematuresexgoddess.wordpress.com]

"Nice" Domme

Sometimes I hear/read people use the word “nice” to describe a Domme as if it’s a bad thing. What’s wrong with being a nice Domme? Is the cookie cutter, queen bitch Domme really always expected? I don’t even know how one can be “on” like that all the time either. They can’t. Or if they are, wouldn’t they just be awful people to be around? (I’m not just talking about in the presence of their sub/slave/bottom, but anyone they may have contact with on a daily basis.)

I probably fall under the  category of being the  *gasp* nice Domme. This is not to say I’m not firm with my pet when I’m with him, when there are orders for him. I am not soft where it counts. To me, being Domme doesn’t mean being a grade A bitch….at least not all the time. It’s also about how she carries herself. Showing confidence. How she controls her sub without having to go the bitch route. Really, the only time I can say I get mean ans enjoy it on a certain level is when during play, I’m inflicting things on my willing victim…err, I mean subject.

I know there are subs/slaves who get off on or feel they need to have that kind of dynamic. Being barked at, treated meanly, being humiliated.  I’m not the person for them…..well okay, a little bit of humiliation can be fun, depending on the type and circumstances.  But what I’m saying is, unless you really piss me off, it is just not in my nature to be the full on, all the time, cruel Domme that seems to be more the norm than the nicer one. Why can’t there be room for both as the norm and whatever is in between?

[Via http://lotuslust.wordpress.com]

Montgomery County sex-party host must role-play by the zoning rules - washingtonpost.com

Montgomery County sex-party host must role-play by the zoning rules – washingtonpost.com

To understand how Paul Pickthorne got cross-wise with Montgomery County’s land-use regulations, you’ll need a glossary:

“R-60″ is a zoning classification for subdivisions of single-family houses where commercial activity generally isn’t permitted. The 6300 block of Tone Drive in Bethesda is such a place, a tidy street of mostly 1950s brick ranchers just across River Road from Walt Whitman High School.

“BDSM” is short for “bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism and masochism.” Velvet whips, leather hoods, six-inch stiletto heels, that kind of thing. If you were into the BDSM scene and periodically threw BDSM parties in your home — as Pickthorne, a burly, jovial Briton, does in the castlelike 3,600-square-foot McMansion he rents at 6304 Tone Dr. — you’d attract quite a crowd.

“Section 59-C-1.31″ is the zoning code provision you’d be violating by having said parties in an R-60 zone if the guests pay to get in, as they do (or used to) at Pickthorne’s nocturnal get-togethers. His events draw dozens of people. The cost: $20 for a basic ticket, $50 for VIP treatment.

“Kinky people” is the accepted term for folks who derive erotic pleasure from BDSM. “An amazing cross-section of humanity,” says Pickthorne’s friend Susan Wright, founder of the National Coalition for Sexual Freedom. “Men, women, transgender, heterosexuals, gays, bisexuals. Every ethnicity. White-collar and blue-collar. It’s really very, very diverse — though we do have an unusually high percentage of lawyers. I don’t know why.”

Anyway, you can imagine what Pickthorne’s non-kinky neighbors think of all this. Fed up, they convened a meeting in someone’s living room last week, then fired off indignant e-mails to County Council member Roger Berliner (D), whose district includes their Merrimack Park subdivision.

READ MORE HERE…

Montgomery County sex-party host must role-play by the zoning rules – washingtonpost.com

Blogged with the Flock Browser

[Via http://barbaryalan.wordpress.com]

Big BDSM Mistake

I got a call from the owner of the club on Saturday asking if I could work that night. I said I could, but I wouldn’t be able to be there from the start, and he said that was fine and I could work from 10pm. It was a good night with Emma Butt, a goth fetish girl and a gorgeous teen who is great fun!

It was a bit of an extraordinary night. There was a group of Eastern European men in, one of whom had massive boils on his knob and one of whom was a virgin. We were all briefed by the manager as soon as Emma had noticed the guy with boils, and we were all given free condoms so we could ask all the men to wear one even for oral on this night.

The teen was having as lot of trouble with the virgin who was in turn having a lot of trouble with his penis. She asked me to have a go with him and I got him hard quite quickly. I put a condom on him and went on top. He seemed to really get into it as we carried on, and gained confidence to be holding my hips and making me ride up and down on him.

The fetish girl’s partner had brought a lot of knives with him. Despite being drunk and the bed being surrounded by people, he started with some edge play on the teen. He would hold the blade against her neck and then hold a vibrator to her clit. He drew the knife across different points of her neck, showing her all the ways he could kill her in one move. Then he put a double-edged blade inside her pussy and told her to make herself cum by fingering her clit. By the end of this show I was gagging for a go.

I let him do all of these things to me and I loved them. But when I went out to the smoking garden with him, I learned more and more about him that made me not trust him one single bit. He seemed to live in a world of fantasy, believing he was in the SAS or something, and that he’d been on amazing classified missions as the UKs best assassin using one of the 40 guns he keeps in his bedroom. I regretted making such a foolish decision. From now on I have decided that BDSM is only to be carried out in a BDSM environment. We had no safe word or anything. I’m just glad I got through this situation safely and learned from it.

[Via http://teencourtesan.wordpress.com]

28...so far, not so bad

Alright, so the last time I wrote, I was waiting for Sir to come back from a day out. It was the day after my birthday and he told me that he had stuff to do. Around five o’clock, he came back with a bag full of goodies. He was excited and happy, which rubbed off on me right away. He told me that he’d spent the morning at the wood shop building a prototype of a box for my head. He said he was sorry that he didn’t get a chance to finish it, but was looking forward to eventually putting it on me. Excitement!

He had then gone to visit a friend of ours (the person who inadvertently introduced us) to get some weed for us. Neither of us smoke very often, but once in a while it’s fun to bring out my really verbally filthy side. He’d also bought some alcohol and my birthday gift. He was so excited that he didn’t even let me open the bag…he just took everything out. I laughed at him, saying “Are you really opening MY birthday presents?” He laughed and said yes. He took the little package out of the bag and I saw that it was a little bullet vibe that fits in a rubber cock ring. He grinned, I smiled, and gave him a big hug. The worst part though, was that I had to go teach a two hour class before the fun could begin. He winked and told me to have fun and that he was sure I wouldn’t be able to concentrate. He was right.

When I finally got back, we ordered some pizza, put my collar on, had some drinks and chilled for a bit, with him sitting on the couch and me kneeling by his feet on the floor. Once our hunger was satiated, he had me practice some new positions, and then had me model a few different outfits for him. Some sexy, some pretty, some naughty, and then had me assume my positions in each. The evening was a bit of a blur, but it was the BEST night I’ve had in a long long time. There was impact play with the paddle, the crop and hands (which had my eyes watering but my voice begging for more), there was some bondage (which felt like a wonderful, uncomfortable hug), there was verbal humiliation (which made me drip my juices all over the floor), there was service, there was me as a footstool/table, there was piss drinking, and the ultimate, there was me getting fucked as I was on all fours in the bathroom, licking cold piss from the toilet seat. We also drank, smoked, talked about wonderfully awful things and fell asleep at almost 4am, completely exhausted and completely content. It was the greatest post-birthday day I’ve ever had.

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

One of the best things about Sir being away is seeing him walk through the door, surprising me with his presence. Even if it’s just a very quick overnight stay, my heart is lifted and my cunt is happy. The other night, after I had a very long and stressful but good day, Sir came in at almost 2am after driving back to the city with his brother. We talked and he held me/touched me as I fell asleep. The next morning, only six hours later, he dragged himself from our bed, made some coffee and then crawled back into bed and used me, sucking hard on my nipples and spitting on my hole to get it wet. He fucked me with such vigour, you never would have thought he’d had me just two days previously! He told me to make sure I came, and though I was still a sleepy girl, I worked hard, rubbing my clit as he pounded me.

I miss him immensely when he’s not here, but it really does make the brief time we do have together that much more exciting. I love Sir so very much, and I cannot wait until the next time he walks through that door.

<3 Ruby

[Via http://rubysjourney.wordpress.com]

Crash & Burn

Well, after the high speed games of a week and a half ago, I suppose we were destined to crash and burn… or at least simmer down a bit.  Things have been mellow but tense.  Steve and I seem to be circling each other trying to guess each other’s next moves, unsure of where we want to take things from here.  Heidi and Steve have had some interpersonal difficulties regarding communication and Heidi and I are once again, often failing to connect right emotionally.

I don’t know quite what to do.  I think maybe we should devote this weekend to really reconnecting as a triad and as separate couples and see where our desires take us, come next week. 

No real final decisions have been made about breeding but perhaps it’s better to let that stew on the backburner for awhile.  The whore seems to have finally left our lives for good.  Time to reconnect, reconfigure, and reconvene in a few days.

Hope all is well with my readers and my friends out there.  Love you all!

[Via http://cuckqueanslavery.wordpress.com]

her tashlich bread would have been a bagel

For being HOLIER THAN THOU. She wasn’t Jewish, but I had invited her over for Rosh Hashanah dinner. She stayed long enough to berate me for being a FILTHY PERVERT for enjoying non lesbian-feminist-approved sex and for earning my living, in part, by tying men up and spanking them.

“We haven’t really talked about any of this…how do you feel about it?”

Her face got all red. She puffed up to several times her size, prepped to blow a serious gasket. “I think it’s COMPLETELY DISGUSTING!!”

I forget what else she said (ranted), but vividly remember how loudly she slammed my apartment door when I asked her to leave. I also remember that she liked it rather hard in bed and have a strong suspicion that by this point, she might no longer be a stranger to the non-egalitarian sex herself.

I was always way hotter for her baby butch roommate, who, though quite young, had a pierced tongue and looked like she might know how to show a lady a very good time indeed.

Obvs, my own tashlich bread is a pretzel, for my TWISTED DESIRES.

[Via http://whatthepork.wordpress.com]

Mistress DiDi calls it like it is....

So last night I had a long conversation with my dear friend Mistress DiDi. It’s really wonderful to have friends in this Lifestyle that share the same ethics and understand the art of Power Exchange. I appreciate her energy and vast wealth of knowledge. To listen to her talk about BDSM is like listening to a child who just purchased a new video game. It’s exciting. It’s challenging and it’s HERS. I hear pure joy when revisiting Mistress DiDi’s stories. Yet hear the sadness in her when we discuss the scene today.

We chatted about the recent release of subs and giggled extensively at the many advertisements for hookers and escorts who don a whip and call themselves ‘Dommes’. It is sad that many, due to media and public “opinion” do not know what Power Exchange is or the art of it. When you have television shows, porn that has BDSM elements & folks who misinterpret that the fashion of leather, latex & corsets validates them carrying an implement and calling themselves a Domme. It’s no wonder that many are jaded with the thought that sex is a must during a session. Such a sad reality.

I have a friend Kitty Von Dolce, who is an adult starlet- that while she appears in ‘Kinky’ & ‘BDSMish’ porn UNDERSTANDS that what she does on film is simply just that- for film. She doesn’t pretend to be a Domme and is actually very humble in her approach by outwardly stating: “I just do it on film”. I love Kitty’s openness that she will tell anyone, she knows nothing about BDSM/ KINK. What she portrays on film is an orchestrated fabricated fantasy. The illusion of dominance. Not true Power Exchange. It’s just porn with BDSM/ KINK elements. VERY different from the experience of Power Exchange. Recently she was asked to session and called me for advice. She told me from the very beginning she knew nothing about power exchange and wanted me to guide her. Protocol is something she is not familiar with and while she had no intention on sessioning- she wanted to honor the Lifestyle by approaching the sub properly. After discussing at length what I do and what it entails she admitted it wasn’t for her. I like her honesty. Her responsibility as a woman to say she didn’t know enough and she’d leave it to those who really live it. It’s rare to find honest people like that now a days. The average person would look at it as a ‘pay day’ and jump at the opportunity to make a quick buck even at the expense of another’s safety.

I admire those who want to explore and experience a Lifestyle that’s foreign in concept to them. It shows an openness and willingness to learn. Although in regards to BDSM/ KINK, indulging with someone who is not experienced can be volatile. Safety should always be paramount. Before beginning a session it totally surprises me how often new people I’ve played with will say: “No one has ever asked me if I have physical limitations or if I’m taking any meds.” To find a Domme/Dom that can nurture an exploratory experience with a masterful skill set is priceless.

In my conversation with Mistress DiDi we touched based about her article: Domme vs Dumme. Which I will say gave me such belly laughter, as each paragraph did indeed embody some one I’ve come across at some point in time. I encourage you all to read it. She’s a wonderful resource for many. I’m grateful to have people like Mistress DiDi and my best friend & Partner in Perv: Lady Jessica Sovereign in my inner sanctum. Friendships that bring me happiness and shared knowledge. Full of laughter and women I know that I can always learn from. While both women are powerful beyond compare they are very different, the one common thread we all share- The Art of Power Exchange. Here’s to you my fellow Goddess’.

xx

MLB

[Via http://misslolabastinado.wordpress.com]

Sexual Anomie

The forced heteronormative expectations that we see in society foments in sexual culture, or rather in the void that represents sexual culture to us in the states.  We have a culture of silence, a culture that suggests that any sex is dangerous sex.  This anti-sex doctrine is being beaten into our youth through abstinence education programs.  I realize that these programs are proven to fail miserably simply in terms of numbers; but I have to wonder about what is happening to the available sexual outlets of individuals in this nation because of the anti-sex ideology that is being passed off as education.

I am a super sexual woman.  I love sex in every way shape and form, I would be a porn star, prostitute, sex working, whore, immerse myself in the industry of vice, if it were a tad more socially acceptable.  It is however not socially acceptable, in fact it is a fast tract to the slammer.

In the shadow of expectations I have found myself having fewer and fewer sexual outlets.  I have been practicing a lot of yoga, am very much in my body, I feel sexy as hell and yet I am not having a bit of sex.  I have a non-existent sex life.

This could be due to a career as a graduate student.  I think too much and I forgot to wash my hair, again.  This might not be the most appealing to the vast majority of potential sex partners, or maybe it is simply that I am not attracted to mindless nitwits, of which this town has plenty.

Last night I sat panting in the locker room after yoga thinking about the way I feel.  I’m frustrated, horny, lonely, afraid to be touched, bitter, and more interested in reading about sex than actually having it.  I no longer want to get dressed up to simply go out.  I don’t have the energy for more of the same disappointing sex parties. Sexy as hell but with few acceptable outlets to display my sex appeal in, I’m suffering from sexual anomie.

I have felt more and more stifled into doing what is expected of me, distancing myself from the sex industry because I am a serious academic now.  I don’t think anything could be less helpful. I’m working hard to establish myself in a field that has the power to change ideology and policy, why would I want to distance myself from the group of disenfranchised people from which I come?

Seems to me that sex workers, kinky folks, gender benders, and misfits of all types could use my help.  I have a strong voice and the inclination to change things for the better.  Why am I trying to sneak my way in and out of smut and education?  I do so love them both.

The answer to this long wielding question of self doubt and sociological confusion is of course that the ideology, the beliefs, the attitudes about sex, sex work, BDSM, porn, gender, sex and gender presentation – the dichotomous values, beliefs and behaviors have to shift.  There is no way for us to attain sexual liberation until we change the way we view sex and gender in this culture.

We are only human, we have the right and the need to get laid. The puritanical beliefs that form public policy and mainstream attitudes have taken an approach that limits our rights to have the knowledge that could save lives, prevent unwanted lives, increase pleasure and tolerance. Why are the rest of us sitting in fear of a moral majority?  Policies that prevent people from having knowledge, policies that foster bigoted beliefs, policies that engender discriminatory practice and violence cannot be tolerated. We have rights to information about sexual practices, it is time we assert these rights and stop letting conservative politicians take them from us.

The only way I can fathom to start on a path of sexual equilibrium is to speak on the topic of sexual enjoyment.  To embrace our inner perverts, to have sex, to not be shameful about it, to answer questions truthfully, to read about sex and gender issues, to stop hiding in a sexual closet.  Come out.  Be proud to be a sexual human being. Have some fucking sex.  Perpetuating a culture of silence only engenders more fear and stigmatization.

This problem of sexual anomie, the idea of being alienated from your sexual self, is perpetuated by silence, fear mongering, and the criminalization of sex.  How can people be expected to have thriving fully adult sexual experiences when we can’t even talk about sex?  The idea that we are supposed to know what to do, how to do it, and that these “normal” heterosexual vanilla pleasures are supposed to fulfill us is insulting to my intelligence.  Why is it expected that everyone is supposed to have a natural disposition for homogeneity?

People have lost their jobs, lost custody of their children, lost everything –sometimes even their lives because they were labeled sexually deviant.  Sex is a normal and indeed necessary experience of human existence. We all need to get laid, so why do we continue to perpetuate a culture of sexual contempt?

These questions have been plaguing me all morning, all night, for years really.

The nature of puritanical beliefs and policies is to silence the sexual discourse before it even begins.  The Christian right screams that sex education will encourage kids to have sex.  This has been proven to be a fallacy but I say so what.  Who cares if sex education encourages people to have sex?  Are we supposed to encourage people to not have sex? A culture that encourages it’s citizens to have little to no conversation pertaining to sexual activity, safety, health, pleasure, or the ramification thereof — this seems perverse to me.

Why is it the ideology of ant-sex crusaders not seen as perverse?  Is it not obvious to all adults that sexuality is a natural part of human life?  What if we banned dialogue on other aspects of health, like eating too much, having heart attacks, cholesterol build up?  These are not seen as taboo.  If sexuality is going to be treated like the plague, I want out of here and fast.

Sexual happiness should be thought of as paramount to being a healthy and happy individual.  We all need lovin’ – so why all the silence and fear?  What do the right wing anti-sex ideologists not want us to do?  Do they think we will all quit our shitty jobs and stay home having sex all day, using birth control so as not to breed unwanted offspring that use up more of our non-existent resources and therefore force us all to get up and go to the same shitty jobs?  Maybe.

Likely it is just about power and control.  Ever heard the saying “I’ve got him by the balls?” Well the big power and policy makers sure have.  They seem to have taken it for all it’s worth.  As a nation we are terrified of sex.  Anything that reflects sex as something other than heteronormative, pro-creation, monogamous, vanilla sex is seen as evil and certain to corrupt the children. Sex really isn’t all that spooky.  People have been doing it since people showed up on this rock.  Sex, we need it to continue the human race – sure but that does not seem to be in any danger.  People will keep poppin’ em’ out long after we admit that sex feels good.

Silence and pressure to conform to standards of sexuality is stifling to every one of us.  If you are not having a mind blowing sex life you should be angry.  Angry at a system designed to limit your sexual choices and freedoms.  Angry at a discourse that has been shooshed.  Angry at the moral majority for forcing their views and beliefs down the political throat that coughs up that discourse and controls what we do in our bedrooms, and indeed what we think about what we do in our bedrooms.

It is time that our culture take back it’s sexuality.  We need to come into our own as a sex-positive society.  We can not keep preaching abstinence in school, fear mongering, scaring people into passive heteronorms – it will not work, it will perpetuate a lot of closet case mentalities, it will make people see themselves as deranged perverts instead of simply able to enjoy more variety in their lives.  Sexual anomie is a seriously disturbing force in this culture.  It is making us all frigid, afraid, and stone.

[Via http://widowcentauri.wordpress.com]

Sir

In 2 days – 55.5 hours, to be precise – I’ll be meeting Kyle at SFO to spend two blissful days together.  Since we only see each other in person every few months, there are always a thousand things I want to do with him, but this trip there’s something very special we’ve been wanting to do for awhile – I’m going to take him to a dungeon as my boy, and I will be his Sir.

Kyle and I both switch, and since the beginning, we’ve played around with many different roles.  Perhaps it’s because I’ve never served a woman, but “Ma’am” and “Mistress” never commanded the same respect, to my ear, as “Sir.”  Somehow they feel diminutive, less powerful, less in control  – I’m sure a case could be made that it’s my internalized misogyny, which I know is significant – but, whatever the reason, many months ago I asked Kyle to call me “Sir” instead of “Ma’am” and it was a revelation.  Kyle is an amazing lover, and every scenario was fun, but every time I topped him as his Sir, it felt different.  Special.   There was a clear, beautiful resonance, like strumming a perfectly-tuned guitar string.  At first he had trouble using the term – “Ma’am” had been an easy way of sliding sideways into submission, while still holding the upper hand gender-wise.  Even tied up, he was still the cowboy and I was still the girl, and that made it safer, easier, less scary.  However, once I became Sir, he found himself in the uncomfortable position of giving in completely, of letting me take him without leaving himself an easy escape hatch.

(Now, I feel as if I should explain a few things for those in the audience who are feeling a bit lost.  Kyle was born biologically female, but presents himself as masculine – short hair, men’s clothing, packing a store-bought cock in his tighty whities -  and considers himself genderqueer.  I am biologically female, present myself as female – long hair, unbound breasts, female-but-not-frilly clothing – but, long ago, I lost my faith in gender altogether, and don’t think of myself as either female or male.  Together we play with power and gender – sometimes i’m his girl and he’s my Sir, sometimes I’m his wicked uncle and he’s my curious nephew, sometimes she’s My girl, sometimes she’s my butch soccer coach…it all depends on the energy between us on a given day.)

As we began to play more with the idea of his Sir, it was incredible to watch his internal struggle because his female side, Casey, longed to submit, but his male side, Kyle, fought it.  Kyle, especially, had difficulty acknowledging the homosexual aspects to submitting to a male persona, which is a gorgeously complex struggle for an outwardly-appearing butch lesbian to have.  Slowly we worked together, pushing a little farther every time and then lovingly and carefully talking through the issues that came up.

Sometimes people confuse dominance with bullying – they use whips and floggers to command attention, instead of taking the time to earn respect and trust.  To begin with, anyone who wants to dominate another person needs a working understanding of the human psyche, and an intimate knowledge of the other person, but even that much won’t ensure a successful scene.  The key to successful power exchange, for me, is a deep respect and love for the person you wish to dominate.  For someone to give themselves over to you, they need to trust that you will ultimately take care of them, whatever that means for that particular person.   In Kyle’s case, that means that I have to express my respect for him in my words and my actions, I have to show him that I would never leave him, I have to be right there with him, loving him and protecting him from making a fool of himself.  Above all, Kyle wants to be acknowledged and admired for his strength and his submission, which is actually quite easy for me, because he is an amazing man.  The trick is making sure he knows it with every atom of his being.

So, you might ask, with all the work it takes to top someone…what’s in it for me?  Being in control of someone as strong and smart as Kyle is incredible – a sexually-satisfying ego boost that challenges and thrills me with every twist and turn.  He keeps me on my feet physically and intellectually, and loves to play as much as I do – it’s like a game of cat and mouse where the mouse wants to be caught, but only if the cat can prove she’s good enough.  Kyle’s body is strong and sexy beyond belief, responding to every tickle, every bite, every blow with writhing, panting need.  Playing with him doesn’t just feel good  – making love to him fills me with desire and awe, and his stunningly beautiful, ecstatic responses make me feel like the God of Sex.

And in two days I’ll get to share him with the world, or at least the people assembled at Edges that night.  I can’t wait to show him off, show the world how he shines in the spotlight and introduce him to the cages and crosses assembled there that will add to his torment.  It’s gonna be one hell of a good time.

Save a horse – ride a cowboy.

[Via http://uncommoncuriosity.com]

Extreme Watersports

Welcome to the EXTREME Athletic Event of Watersports, the only sport where showering is part of the competition. And win or lose, you still get the gold. Golden Showers, that is. It’s the wettest game in town.

Harold is a frequent visitor but Harold never alters his play list. It’s the same old tune, session after session. This year, however, Harold made himself a resolution; a resolution to fulfill that ever popular but rarely achieved Wildest Dream.

Harold called and announced that today was the day–he was going to shower with the nectar of Goddesses. He wanted to bask in the golden warmth of a Domme Woman. He wanted to get pissed on by a hot chick.

I was happy to oblige.

[Via http://domdominique.wordpress.com]

Five things to do with your new boy toy

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Shut up

She shuts me up in the cell. In reality, it’s a shallow alcove in the wall, lined with a dark, wiry carpet, about 3 feet across and 12 inches deep. It’s closed off from the rest of the room by a thick wooden stable door, which also has other openings in it, allowing her access to all areas.

She hooks me to the sides by my wrists and ankles. A soft blindfold presses against my eyes, and mufflers sit on my ears like two plastic ring doughnuts.

She can do whatever she wants with me. Not just in this box.

*

It’s odd to come and see her, and then spend these precious moments not seeing her. But why should I expect anything else in this topsy-turvy place?

*

I’ve come to view this box as our relationship in miniature, if you can call it a relationship. I never leave this box. I’m always confined, in her eyes, in the role of a slave. She’s not interested in who else I might be, except in so far as I might be useful to her. I may (and will) become less to her, but I won’t become more. So I carry this box with me wherever I go, both hating and loving it.

Sometimes I can see that these restrictions serve a purpose: they impose a mental bondage which can, once in a while, paradoxically set me free. At other times I just think they’re a pissing shame, and that we hold ourselves back from something much better. But I could be wrong.

I never see her clearly. I only ever hear a muffled, distorted version of her voice.

Except that’s not the whole story. Because I have been known to peek.

[Via http://bindings.wordpress.com]

The First Monday Of 2010!!

Here we are, the first workday of January, 2010!! This is going to be a busy week at the office…well, actually, the next two days are going to be balls-to-the-walls…time entries are due tomorrow by 5:00 p.m. I’m hoping to head to the office early this morning to get a start on all my time entries as I have been so covered up with the day-to-day deadlines and such that time entering got put to the side.

I’m hoping to make it to Monday night yoga class tonight, but that will all depend on how much I get done today before leaving the office…frustrating to say the least, but that’s the way it goes.

I’m giving serious thought to taking off this coming Friday…I’m hosting a baby shower with my daughter this coming Saturday and taking Friday off would give me time to get my part together and get organized before heading out-of-town on Saturday to do the shower. I think my main attorney will be out of the office on Friday, so I need to double-check that and see what deadlines we have going on before putting in for the day off. Who knows, I may even be able to entertain a client or two if I can get my schedule worked out…

Which I’m hoping I can get things on the time entry well enough in hand to continue with my 2-hour session planned tomorrow night with my submissive scrotie. This guy likes cock and ball torture, with an emphasis on ball stretching. He also likes electro-play, so I will need to make sure the batteries in the TENS unit are powered up and ready for our session…I’m hoping that my day-job schedule doesn’t interfere with my session schedule, but I should know by this afternoon if I’m going to be able to do both!

It’s freaking cold out…yes, I know it’s January, but here in Oklahoma, the temps usually flirt around the freezing mark…we’re way below freezing and it’s supposed to get even colder by the middle of the week, with a chance of MORE SNOW!!! What in the Hell happened to Global Warming? Just as I figured, Global Warming is a big scam cause we’re sure freezing our asses off here in Oklahoma!!! I can’t even imagine how the folks up in Minnesota, North Dakota, Illinois and such are making it…someone needs to send Old Man Winter backing up a bit heading closer to the North Pole!!!

Time to get moving along…I really would like to get to the office early…I just realized, most everyone in other offices will be back today and the parking garage is liable to be full to overflowing if I dilly-dally around this morning…so, quest to get to the office early, or at the worst, on time…have a great frozen first Monday of the new year!!!

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Protecting Safe Space

In the Lifestyle community there is a Safe Space Policy which is subscribed to by most of the social groups, organizations and their members, as well as many of the non-affiliated individuals who make up the greater community.  Briefly, what this policy consists of is an agreement by members of the community to preserve the overall safety of the community.  It does this by preserving the safety, the privacy and the confidentiality of individuals within the community from outsiders and from others within the community. 

When you break it down into its basics, it is the No Violence, No Gossip, No White-Wash and No Outing clauses of the Greater Social Contract to which everybody not suffering from certain psychological illnesses subscribe.  We all learned the juvenile vanilla version of it sometime between kindergarten and third grade, depending on the When and the Where of our elementary education.

Respected individuals have been removed from long-held positions of leadership for violations of the Safe Space Policy, both perceived and actual.  Once powerful individuals have been banned from participating in the meetings, munches, and sponsored events of organizations because of non-adherence to the current flavor of Safe Space Policy.  Some individuals have even been stripped of the vestments, badges or costumes which symbolized their positions within subcultures of the greater community.

Safe Space Policies are important and vital to maintaining a safe BDSM community, but when you go out in search of the policy for a given city or organization it can be virtually impossible to locate.  You will find a broken-down, beefed-up, overly specific, non-specific, intentionally or unintentionally vague, arbitrary, ambiguous version of an organization’s policy in the rules and waiver that they use at public or private events or parties.  But to actually put your hands on a document or a file that contains something that is actually called or really is a Safe Space Policy is something most people just cannot do.

So now, in the interest of safety and some modicum of consistency for persons in the Lifestyle Community, I now give to you my proposed Universal BDSM Safe Space Commandments.

1. Thou shalt not violate the personal privacy of another.
2. Thou shalt not violate the personal space of another.
3. Thou shalt not violate the relationships of another.
4. Thou shalt not violate the property or of another.
5. Thou shalt not violate the integrity or honor of another.
6. Thou shalt not violate or endanger the legitimate livelyhood of another
7. Thou shalt not misrepresent your intentions during discussions or while in negotiations with another, either directly or indirectly.
8. Thou shalt not knowingly or willingly participate in the violation of another.
9. Thou shalt not withhold verified, first hand information about any violation from those who may have been endangered or injured by that violation, or from any community body which serves as leaders and acts to protect the community.
10. Thou shalt not use rank, power, or position within a household, subculture, organization or community to exert any manner of undue pressure or influence for personal benefit of any kind.
11. Thou shalt not intentionally cause any unlawful injury to another, be it physical, emotional or psychological, financial, or social.
12. Thou shalt label a person ”dangerous” and deny this person access to the community when it is shown that he or she knowingly, willingly or repeatedly violates Safe Space.
13. Thou shalt not protect, endorse or promote to others any person who knowingly, willingly or repeatedly violates Safe Space.
14. Thou shalt honor and obey the specific rules of the hosting individual, group, business or organization when attending any meeting, party or sponsored event except when to do so is in violation of the other commandments.

Yes, there most certainly could be more.  There can always be more.  Just look at the current legal code in any location and you can see just how much organizations love “More” when it comes to setting down rules.  But are they really necessary if every individual, household, subculture, organization and community agree to honestly follow the fewer, simpler rules?

Mistress Lila

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