domination Stories - Lust Moments stories

Who has the duty of care?

Posted on 07/07/2020 - 28/09/2021 by pseudonymous

I was recently talking with a friend of mine who is not only a sub but also a doctor and she passed on to me some disturbing information. There are subs out there who are being permanently damaged physically by what is being demanded of them by (quite often) irresponsible Doms and Dommes. She cited as examples the prolonged use of extreme heels necessitating the use of heels permanently and the forced prolonged use of a catheter on a sub resulting again in its necessary permanent use. My main question is this; Who has the duty of care when it comes to the welfare of subs? Is it his/her responsibility to look after herself or is it ours to make sure that he/she comes to no permanent harm? Of course, permanent change may happen with full consent (piercings, tattoos etc.) but they may also happen through ignorance or, even worse, a lack of care. Sadly I have far too often encountered irresponsible Masters and Mistresses whose only interest is their own gratification and who care little or nothing about their subs. I am interested to know where you stand on this matter.

Answers:

Ultimately it’s the sub’s call: final responsibility for your welfare can never be delegated, ever. You can farm it out, but in the end, nobody really cares about you, so you’ve got to second-guess everything that happens to you.

This is true even if coercion is involved (“Do it or I will slit your throat!”): you may have to temporarily obey, but you then set your mind on escape and contact the police.

Sadly quite often it’s done with the consent of the subs I’m afraid. However, I’d see the responsibility with their dominants not to give in to wishes that will harm their normal body functions like urinating.

However, when it becomes clear that the Dom doesn’t care about the wellbeing of the sub I see the responsibility with the sub to leave the unhealthy relationship.

Ignorance is even worse because then there’s no-one to intervene. You can only hope that they attend parties, munches or chats where their unhealthy behavior will attract attention and somebody is ‘brave’ enough to go and talk to them.

I agree that primary responsibility falls with a sub to protect themselves however I would not go as far to say no one really cares about you. By protecting themselves I don’t just mean in a particular situation but choosing a partner that has their best interest at heart. There will always be bad apples it doesn’t matter who you are or where you go some people just suck yes. There will also be those who do harm out of ignorance and simply need to be educated. Don’t think for a second there aren’t people dommes, doms or whoever that do take everything action and command into consideration when dealing with the welfare of their partner. At the end of the day, every individual has to recognize for themselves the risk of a situation, what kind of partner they have and handle accordingly.
Ultimately its the sub’s role to ensure they are giving theirself to someone who has earned their trust and respect – __and__ that they have tested enough to know that they can trust their body to.

A submissive can always say no. But they have to make that choice. I don’t believe in “my master/mistress” made me do it cause they gave me an order”. that’s passing the buck of responsibility.

Just because someone puts the label “Dom/Domme” on themselves doesn’t mean shit. If they are doing something that is unsafe or objectionable, then you (the submissive) need to speak up and say NO. Nobody can take that way from you, but it’s your job as a person to speak up and take care of yourself.

I’d agree that both parties should really do the research to know what it is they are getting into, and to make sure situations like that don’t occur out of ignorance. In the end, though the sub should have it in them to refuse such unreasonable requests if they arise. I would imagine some, perhaps through conditioning or just plain meek personalities, might have trouble with this which is sad. I think in those cases it is less of a D/s relationship and more of an abusive one.
There are self-destructive people all over, in the BDSM community and outside of it.

The thing about BDSM is we can either have double the protection, with both sub and dom looking out for each other, or double the damage with abusive doms finding self-destructive subs. And whoopie, they don’t have to do the destroying themselves anymore – they have a dom, aka “self-destructive helper.”

And to answer the – both

I think that a sub has ultimate responsibility for their own well-being BUT a slave’s well-being is the responsibility of their Master. Of course, the Dom still needs to be responsible when playing with a sub. I take complete responsibility for my boy physically, emotionally, sexually, etc. To be a true Master you need to know your slave well enough to know what they need and you need to have the lines of communication open so they can let you know if they have a need that’s not being met (very different from a want that’s not being met.) Also, it’s hugely irresponsible to do any type of play unless you know all the possible implications of it. [example: you wouldn’t do anal fisting on your sub/slave without taking the time to get their body accustomed and you would stop if they started to tear.]
Early in my foray into BDSM, I was taught that the first rule of any D/s dynamic was to ‘protect the property’. This means that the Dominant/Owner’s first responsibility was to see no harm came to their charge/property & that the charge/property fulfilled his or her first obligation to see that no harm came to themselves.

The niggling part of this entire thing is to determine what both parties consider harm. This determination should come from an honest, frank, and upfront discussion.

That all being said, … there are many dishonest, loathsome people in life who will lie and mislead those they think they can get something from. Oftentimes these folks do not even know they are lying to others as they are also lying to themselves.

First Rule: Protect the Property.

I think both Domme and sub have a duty of care. In the fantasy or the heat of the moment, it is easy to go for the ‘no limits’ scenario where an extremely sadistic Domme beats the living daylights out of the sub – or whatever your particular fantasy is. When a Domme asks if I have any limits, I always say yes and tell her what they are. I find Dommes are virtually always caring. But there are exceptions and last year I had to stop a session and walk away – while I could still walk. That was the first such experience in 30 years. I had detailed limits to her which she chooses to ignore. She said she did not recognize any limits. So no matter how experienced you are, please always set limits.
It comes done to both. However, if I am doing something and my pet becomes uncomfortable, this feeling starts to increase or worse, I completely expect him to safeword out. I need to know when something I’m doing went from good hurt to badly hurt before it gets to harm. And yes, to me there is a clear distinction.

And I agree with the first rule: protect the property

THe Duty falls to the one who is in the position of being able to STOP whatever is happening if it is abuse. That much is clear. It can be one of the players or an outsider. That is duty. That is being human.

If it is damage done in ignorance then all parties are equally responsible for its prevention and aftercare if it occurs.

It is hoped that before doing any at risk play that the players would have done proper preparation and research. That is why places like this have real-time meetings and classes.

Even if a player must spend some cash to travel to find onscene proper knowledge it is a must. I’ve encountered a few asshats who “learned how to spank online” and want to try it out..LOL, ya..
The worst part is that the totally inexperienced often want to meet only equally inexperienced ..

It is my personal experience that male subs, when tempted with the carrot of the sex or fetish they deeply desire, will do almost anything, however risky it might be if the domme is sufficiently beautiful, or young, commanding, persuasive etc.

So it’s not about the “should”, it’s more about the reality of what happens– the end result. Not the theory, not the “on paper” ethics.

Yes, the sub should be responsible for his/her own safety. But are they? Some are, some aren’t. The domme needs to know her own levels of expertise, constantly seek to stay abreast of new knowledge and practice, hone their technical craft. Do they? Some do, some don’t.

I am weary of dommes who seek to save the poor subs from abuse.
It’s a constant theme in one of the groups where I am involved. If solid education is offered, plenty of discussion and interaction provided, the dommes are already doing the best they can.

My opinion, backed up by Jay Wiseman’s observation on the same topic is that most of the mistakes made, resulting in serious consequences, occur between couples who don’t have connections with their BDSM communities, who don’t research and practice, who take risks based on both ignorance and lack of common sense.

It is the domme-sub couples behind closed doors, who aren’t on a site like FetLife, who don’t attend classes, demos, presentations, who are basing their practices on porn and fantasy–they are most at risk.

The ones who truly need saving are invisible to us.

My Mistress pointed this thread out to me, and I want to put in my two cent’s worth 😉

A lot of Dominant Females reacting here.. a few submissive reactions.
I think the duty of care changes when the dynamics change.

To set myself as an example; when first engaging in D/s with Mistress, I felt it was my duty, and mine alone, to take good care for my well-being. This because I couldn’t ask that of Mistress yet, She didn’t know me well enough to do so.

But as the dynamic changed (now evolving into TPE) i surrendered more and more of that to Her. I agree that i am responsible for my choices, my actions. But when I am in subspace, I can no longer make good choices, so i delegate them to Mistress.

So I guess it is both who have the duty of care.
Funny to read the opinions on submissives handing over the duty though..in the ‘submissive women’- group here on FetLife, almost everyone thinks the submissive should own their own, and be responsible.

And for the awareness of potential problems…well, I think someone should be aware of the risks before engaging in any activity.
Want your submissive wearing heels for a long time? google it..and see if there are any,and what the risks are.
Want your submissive wearing a corset for body-modification? Google it, and be aware of the risks.

Now I can hear some people questioning themselves ‘what about acting on a hunch? What about me being spontaneously sadistic?’
Well..I’m sure you have some idea of what you’re capable of, and where your desires lead to. So google it as soon as the idea comes to mind, that way, you’re able to act with sense when the possibility comes up.

You can make this fun for the submissive too; Mistress had me searching the internet for dangers concerning whipping or bondage, i.e. faulty areas, the vascular- and nerve center,and pressure points as an assignment. This way, both Her AND me are aware of any risk.

Sadly this doesn’t surprise Me at all. I would say it’s a mutual responsibility, but ultimately it’s the responsibility of the submissive. I have spoken to many subs and find Myself sadly amazed at what some will allow a Dominant to do to them. I personally will not consider meeting with subs who have no regard for their own safety and worth as a human being.
You’re talking about two different issues. One is the risks that some activities entail. It’s likely that we don’t know all the risks of the activities that we engage it. They probably don’t publish studies in JAMA on the long term effects of gratuitous catheterization, breast bondage, or ball kicking. Even when people know the risks, people still smoke. The second issue is that some dominants care more about gratification than they do about their submissives. I’d add a third issue that some submissives care more about gratification than personal safety.
All parties involved have the responsibility. In regular life and in play. During play, the Dom/me is responsible for the sub’s well being, especially if the sub is incapacitated and/or once the sub goes into subspace. But the sub is responsible in letting the Dom/me know if something isn’t right, if at all possible, (good reason to use safe words, or ) especially if the Dom/me is in Dom/me space. Just my 2 cents worth.
As a submissive, I think there’s a point from our side that hasn’t been raised in this discussion. And that is the kind of headspace one can get into as a sub, where you want to please and make your owner proud of you; even outside any thought of sexual reward or fear of punishment. I know I’ve driven myself harder than might have been wise just from that desire, and although I wouldn’t directly lie to my Mistress about my condition… I have in the past not been as openly honest with Her as I should have been. I was punished for that, and rightly so I think. Not for failing in a physical task, but in failing to honor the trust and honesty that to me, is the whole basis of the bond I have with Her.

In the debate of who’s ultimately responsible for the well being of a submissive (physical, mental and emotional health), I think as many have said that it’s a shared burden. As a submissive, I have the responsibility to ensure my owner always knows of anything that concerns me, or any physical issues that may arise. By the same token, any Mistress/Master who wants to make demands of their submissive has the responsibility to understand or research the possible dangers (short or long term) that may result from their orders. This is especially crucial I think, because the submissive may simply never have thought about the dangers of some things, but follow the order out of desire to please.

If you want your sub to always be parading in high heels, you as the Mistress/Master take the responsibility to know what the damage done could be. And likewise, the submissive has the duty to report fully any problems such as intense pain even when NOT wearing the heels, that they feel. Any submissive who puts an order above their own well being isn’t doing anyone a favor, and any owner who does that doesn’t deserve to have a submissive in the first place.

My take is that anyone who “consents” to something that will result in serious or permanent harm isn’t capable of making decisions for themselves, in which case it isn’t really defensible “consent”.

On the other side of the coin, a person who knowingly and intentionally causes that same serious or permanent harm to another human being is guilty of aggravated assault, and I don’t give a shit how much the person “consented”. If someone “consented” to you cutting out their liver and their heart, would that make it acceptable?

This discusion has taken an interesting, if somehwhat more worrying, turn with all this talk of the legal positions involved. It wasn’t something i had envisaged originally but is nevertheless of great importance.

Thank you all for your contributions so far. At least it has satisfied me that there really are some responsible kinks out there. Please keep the posts coming and also please point people in this direction.

I have all my life looked for the most experienced people in a field to ask a question.If I’m going to submit to someone,it’s going to be a person with years of experience in the lifestyle.

My Mistress has had years of experience & has informed me of things that could damage a person. I had no idea a flogger not used properly could ruin a kidney. She can be sadistic at times but rarely leaves marks.
I do think a person,who is new to the scene should ask around before being submissive just to have a kinky play. I would add no matter what the sub must be smart enough to say ‘No !’ .
I have not had the need to say it but my Mistress knows when she is pushing my limits by reading my body reaction.

for me, the primary responsibility is with the Domme by agreeing to take on a slave the Domme is in charge. I can be likend to being a parent one has to do what is best for the slave. These include wellbeing, physical, emotional, and spiritual. the responsibility of thr slave is to speak up when hiséher needs are nottaken care of. when slave can not communicate with the domme or the domme chooses to ignore the slave then the total responsibility rests wih the domme.To me it is very similar to the parent-child relationship in the vanilla world
I’m only going to post about what I have seen take place at some clubs.

A random “Domme” rounds up a group of random “subs” for a trampling session with a number of other random “Dommes”. The “subs” think – “ohhh fun! I’ll have some of that”. They duly lie down and take whatever the random “Dommes” want to do.

I’ve seen subs trampled in heels with absolutely no concern for their safety.

Frankly, I think it is ignorance on the part of all those involved.

If you want some BDSM action – it isn’t about rogue playing, it’s about knowing the person you play with and respecting each other.

The sub respects the Domme to do what pleases her without it damaging him. The Domme respects the sub enough to only do what she does safely.

You may disagree but that is my opinion.

It is the responsibility of the sub to say stop if he realizes he is being punched too far or in a dangerous scenario. For the Doms, the responsibility of being responsible and not do things that could potentially cause serious damage to fall on them also.

The problem is, how often do either of them know enough about the risks of edge-play to know if it could cause serious harm? Whoever “you” are in this debate, the sub or the Dom, the responsibility falls on “you”.

Since the sub will be the one paying the podiatrist or urologists, or perhaps a proctologist(!), you owe it to yourself to be educated and informed. Ask your doctor. They are probably not going to OK you to be beaten or such, but a reasonable doctor will discuss with you things they know you are going to do, and offer as much advise as they can. Dr’s can point you to books that can give you an idea of what to expect. There are books, books, books abound that can be used to understand how your body works, or how it will/might react to anything you play with. You won’t find then in the BDSM secion of the library (!) but can find them under sports medicine, yoga, anatomy, “how to’s” on anything from surgeries to kidney failure, burns, and first aid.

“…most of the mistakes made, resulting in serious consequences, occur between couples who don’t have connections with their BDSM communities, who don’t research and practice, who take risks based on both ignorance and lack of common sense.

Although this was said some time ago & I am only new here I really needed to share my opinion on this comment in relation to this thread.

There as some of us that live very happily in a full-time TPE relationship that doesn’t feel the need or have the ability to participate in the activities you have mentioned. There is also a lot of stereotyping going on here (ie. I don’t even watch porn).

I actually feel that it is more often the people who participate in these activities and in turn believe they are experts because they have done so, are far more at risk of causing serious damage than those who remain private. I am compelled not to learn from what someone else says but to do thorough research on any activity I choose to participate in with my sub. I take full responsibility for his well being both mentally & physically.

I’d say both in an ideal situation, but sometimes I worry that the nature of a sub can lead to someone neglecting their own well being for the sake of pleasing another, so ultimately I think it’s the responsibility of the dominant to properly care for their submissive. Being dominant is a lot of responsibility and there’s no room for selfishness when someone else’s physical well being is in your hands. If you’re not going to be a good and proper dom/me, you shouldn’t take on a sub. I know there are a lot of dominants out there who won’t properly care for a sub, so I’d urge submissives to be more discerning in the partner they accept and to stand up for themselves even after they’ve relented to a partner.
We’re talking about grown people over the age of 18. People who can smoke a cigarette, break a speed limit, and drink a bottle of scotch for lunch and shoulder the risks thereof.

Likewise, we’re also talking about grown people over the age of 18 who can decide how much risk they are comfortable shouldering, how much risk makes them excited, and how much knowledge they have and need in order to take on the realities of the fantasy and run a scene/relationship.

As I see it, the obligation of a Dominant is crystal clear transmission of what is being risked. The informed nature of the consent is the biggest piece.

I also disagree that community should be mandatory for safety. It helps, but it can also degenerate into YKINOK when it comes to safety.

When I first started this thread I expected maybe one or two replies and comments. Its gratifying to see that so many Dommes and subs are seeing this as a serious matter. Thank you everyone for your comments and please keep them coming in.

over 10 years ago Reply more
MsAgnes
MsAgnes:
As it has already been said, these persons are adults. They should both care for the impacts of what they do and whether they are ready to take on with what they get into.

A sub should not play if he feels he is not able to and doesn’t know what he can bear. Anyone is conscious enough to know you should amways keep a way to show your limits when involved in a scene. Everyone is intelligent enough not to get involved in something he can’t get out of with someone he doesn’t know. Most people know they should not play when not in control of their own perceptions and under alcohol or drugs…
As a Domme I am always smoother when playing with someone I have never seem before.
The sub is responsible for his own sake. Abuse starts when you are pushed too far by someone informed of your limits (physical and mental)and who you are confident with.
Once again, communication is the responsibility of both sides. If you don’t tell things to a Domme to keep her interest on you, you’re responsible for what happens as she couldn’t know…

No Destination

Posted on 20/12/2020 by pseudonymous

I awaken to the intermittent lapping of water against the hull. There is no specific rhythm and as such, I am reminded that we have moored in a new harbor as of last night. A different sound altogether than the regular pattern of tidal waves that were more typical when anchored off some shore. I stretch and roll onto my side. Your side of the berth is barely disturbed and You have slipped out quietly, as per usual. I look up over my shoulder and smile at the blinking eye of the camera. Whether You are watching or not, it is always on and I like to think You can always see me, from anywhere onboard.

I slip off the bunk and slide my hand through my hair, ruffling the longish bangs and tucking strands behind my ears. We had not been to any harbor for some time, perhaps You would allow me to wander around or maybe even get my hair trimmed. I run through a list of supplies in my head that I want to write down, so as not to forget, as I methodically go about straightening the bed. Then, I head down the short passage which goes past the single door to the Head and past the Galley/Living Quarters/Navigation/Everything space. I don’t even need to consciously remember to duck my head anymore before passing through the doorway. A few months ago, I thought I’d never remembered and would potentially develop a concussion if I continued to whack my head so frequently. I giggle to myself about my silliness while taking stock of what action has already taken place in the Galley. The single used tea bag suspended on a spoon over a small bowl tells it’s own story. I walk to the ladder and climb up, my head only emerging into the early morning light of dawn to see You lounging quietly with tea in hand, enjoying Your solitude. I wait for You to acknowledge me, which You do with a slight smile.

“Refresh Your tea, Master?” I ask quietly. You nod and move me forward with Your hand, while I quickly look from side to side before ascending the rest of the ladder onto the deck, naked. “Are we ever going to get you past your self-consciousness at being naked in public?”, You ask rhetorically. I bite my lip and say, “soooo, no t-shirt for when I bring Your tea back?” You chuckle and reach out to hand over Your cup with one hand, while cupping my breast with Your other hand and then pinching the nipple between Your thumb and forefinger, increasing the pressure with slow and measured intensity, maintaining eye contact to watch my pupils dilate until I gasp in delighted pain. You pull on it harder to extend the breast out from my body and your thumbnail digs a crescent moon into the soft pink tissue inspiring me to draw a hiss of air in through my teeth. You pull me forward and bite the fleshy underside of my breast, making me cry out sharply. You release, but trail Your hand down my side and across my rib cage. “Let Me inspect your marks,” You say matter of factly. I nod and assume an upright posture with fingers interlaced behind my neck and legs spread wide apart.

Your gaze shifts from my neck down over-tanned and freckled, but otherwise relatively unmarked breasts (excepting the raised outline of Your teeth reddening up against the paler underside of the breast) to the spreading outline of bruising on the inner thighs, faintly cross-hatched. “Turn around”, You state. I twist 180 degrees and imagine You drinking in the almost imperceptible lashings across my back, down to the deep purple blossoms of Your recent attention to my ass. You slap my ass sharply, causing me to rise up on my toes and yelp. “Tender?” You state with amusement. “Yes, Master”, I say. “Mmmmmm”, You respond. “This rotation is working nicely.” Your comment. I nod. “Don’t you think?” You ask. “Yes, Master”, I respond. “Yes, I agree.” You state, “Although, I don’t like that You get a sense of the order” You ponder. I remain silent. “No, we can’t have You anticipating,” You say. “No, Master”, I affirm. I feel you stand up behind me and You smack my bruised ass again with more sting. “I suppose this means I may just have to work on an area that’s not quite ready yet”, You say. I look back over my shoulder at You upon noting the shifting tone in Your voice and I see the glint in Your eye. “Yes, Master”, I whisper. We continue to look at one another and then You nod. “Go get my tea and one for yourself” You state. I smile and head to the ladder to descend down to the Galley with Your cup.

The day continues in keeping with the routine of many days before this one: morning ablutions, breakfast, chores and/or assisting with tasks around the boat, lounging in the sun covered in sunscreen while desperately attempting to get a tan to color other than red. Today is somewhat different however, as being in harbor, there are additional tasks that require attention. I provide You with a list of needed provisions that I had compiled earlier, based upon my having taken stock of the Galley and Head. You review it and stroke Your chin lightly before pointing to the line which reads razors, with an indicator for two packages. “Get more than that”, You state. “Four?” I ask. “Fine.” “See whether You can find a treat or two”, You say. I smile and nod. I pull down nervously on my shorts hoping they cover the bruising on my thighs. You catch me twisting my lips and raise an eyebrow at me. “Problem?” You ask. “No, Master”, I say. “Good”. As I move to step onto the dock, I stop and remember my thought from this morning. “Might I look to see if I can get my hair trimmed Master?” You remain quiet for an extended moment and then say, “No”. “Oh”, I respond with slight confusion. “Am I growing my hair Master?” I ask. Your nostrils flare slightly and You state, “No, does not require an explanation”. I swallow and whisper, “Of course not Master”. Your look softens slightly, “You’re fine, now go!”

I arrive back in relatively short order, large cloth shopping bag laden with the listed purchases. When i step onto the deck, i note that You have been busy with Your tools, as the box is open next to the main hatch. i call out, “Hello?”, as i approach the ladder and do not hear You. i descend into the boat with the heavy bag and begin to store things away in the Galley, stacking the items for the Head on the counter for the moment. i smile brightly to myself, as i unpack a brown papered flat package and slip it into the small refrigerator, assured in my belief that You will be pleasantly surprised with what i discovered. i hear footsteps above and the shift of the toolbox as it’s lid is closed and it is moved to be stored. You step down the ladder with quickness and ease and seem to fill the small space with Your energy. “Finished putting things away?” You ask. “All but these items”, i state indicating the few things on the counter that need to go into the Head. “Leave them, strip and go kneel in front of the bench”, You state. i nod and then note that there is a thin cushion on the floor, that must have been there this entire time i had been unpacking. i tilt my head quizzically towards You and You point to the cushion.

i make my way past You and strip off my t-shirt and shorts, folding them onto the bench before kneeling on the cushion, legs spread apart and fingers interlaced behind my neck. “Brace your hands on the bench” You state quietly. i move my hands to lay flat on the cushion of the bench seat, with elbows extended forward. i feel You slip a length of rope around my upper thigh and cinch it before slipping it loosely around my ankle and pulling it upwards slowly until my calf muscle is taut against the back of my thigh. You secure it and then move to the other thigh and ankle, repeating the same actions so that i am balanced slightly forward on pointed knees. You slide Your hand up my back and fan Your fingers into my hair before pulling back on it firmly, extending my neck back harshly. You look down at me and barely above a low toned whisper You say, “I think you need to practice unquestioning deference.” i swallow and blink my eyes. You look at me intently and continue. “For the next two days, you will only crawl…throughout the boat, for all tasks…” You lean down very close to my ear and go on, “I’m going to help to you remember…do you understand?” Unable to nod, i breathily whisper, “Yes, Master”. You stroke my neck and cheek with Your fingertips and then reach around with Your other hand and press my mouth open at the corners before slipping a short, thick leather strap into my mouth. “You’re going to need this”, You state simply. i blink slowly and breathe in deeply, in mental preparation. You slap my face hard and i bite down spontaneously onto the leather. You then push my head down and forward and seemingly without pause, i feel the first strike across the tender inside of my left sole, followed quickly by a corresponding strike to the right sole. The blinding white pain shoots upwards through my body so that my back arches involuntarily and You push my head down again, crisscrossing the next set of strikes across the first. i bite down hard into the leather bit screaming and grasping at the bench cushion with my fingers. i hold my breath with tense shoulders and You remind me to breathe. i shudder a breath through my nostrils and relax my shoulders just as the next set of strikes hit down. My ankles pull harshly back from my thighs yanking on the rope ties and my thighs quiver, as i shift ever so slightly from knee to knee as tears well forward from my eyes. You trace the red stripes causing me to whimper and then strike again in crosswise paired fashion, causing me to sob and move my forehead to press further into the bench cushion and move from side to side. i gurgle the intake of air through my bit filled mouth and snot-filled nose while screaming out between breaths. “No questions for two days, do you understand?” You growl in my ear. i nod my head repeatedly, mumbling incomprehensibly onto the leather bit what must only be a garbled “Yes, Master”. You pull my head back, flip the bit from my mouth with one hand, and command, “Scream”, as You strike my soles with another pairing of quick motioned hits. i scream out loudly, filling the cabin with the gurgled cry, gasping for air as the shooting, blinding pain radiates through my brain. You cup my cheeks with Your hands, looking down at me, compelling me to look at You, as we share a silent communication with one another. “Yes” You state. You continue to maintain eye contact until my breathing normalizes and then You calmly direct, “Go wash up”. i fumble myself to the floor and crawl to the Head slowly, shaky, with thighs and ankles still bound one to the other.

I reach up and take down a washcloth, wetting it, before washing my face haphazardly. My soles throb as though on fire and I dare not extend or flex my feet. i attempt to balance myself on the hard floor, but am still uncoordinated from exertion. I feel Your presence behind me, but I do not look towards You. You slide a hand into my hair and I close my eyes. I then feel a cool, sharp object slip against my scalp and hear the rasp of metal against metal, as you shear a large swath of hair cleanly and efficiently away from my scalp. I open my eyes and see the reflection of your faceless body, strong scissor wielding hand and fingers move to another section of hair and cleanly shear it away, dropping the feathered strands into the sink. I watch entranced as You move across my entire head, leaving only short jagged wisps in the wake of the flashing stainless steel blades. When You have finished, You lean into my back in the small space and reach around to fill the sink with water. You cup some in your hand and spill it over my head, the action lending itself to a feeling of baptism. You remove a razor from the packages only just purchased and slowly begin to shave away the remaining wisps of hair with steady hands and purposeful action. I close my eyes and feel the blade moving slowly over my head, removing the final outward indication of my self-defined identity. I get lost in the sensation and meaning of this act, such that i don’t recognize it has been completed until I hear the sounds of the water draining from the sink and feel your hand smooth across my bald head. You tilt my head back and i open my eyes to look up at You. “What are you?” You ask. “Your property, Master.” I reply, without hesitation. You nod.

The True Story of ‘Little’ Red Riding Hood (and Boots)

Posted on 19/11/2020 - 19/11/2020 by pseudonymous

The Huntsman woke up seated in a hard, wooden chair in a large official-looking room. His head ached and he struggled to remember how he came to be in a room so unlike the rough pastures where he normally slept. Slowly, he started to recall being toasted and celebrated in the pub for his reported heroic role in saving the girl named “Red Riding Hood” and her aged granny. He vaguely recalled the excitement of the company of two beautiful women, whom he had never seen before, buying him drinks and cuddling up to him in the tavern. He smiled as he pictured himself bedding those two lovely women. Surely, such women were the ultimate reward for any male hero, but sadly one he had never known as a lowly and dirty huntsman. He wondered how he ended up in this chair, instead of a warm bed with a lovely female on each side of him.

Just then, a matronly woman entered the room, followed by five other mature women and a tall, younger woman. They were dressed in finely tailored clothes and at once he recognized the older women as members of the powerful women’s council of the nearby village. He had, however, never seen the younger woman before, who was wearing a rather revealing military-style outfit, complete with a long sword on one side, a knife on the other, and a spear in her hand. She was slim and strong and wore her hair in a long black braid, which swung from side to side when she marched in. The Huntsman had difficulty focusing on anything but this beautiful woman, who bore the look of the mythical Amazon warriors he had once seen in an old book. From his chair, he tried to stand up to show his respect for the authority of the councilwomen assembling before him but was instantly stopped by a sharp and severe pain in his groin. He groaned loudly and slumped back into the chair. Through his pain, he looked up to see that several of the women had heard his groan and were smiling or hiding their laughter with their hands.
The head woman motioned to the councilwomen to be seated and waved the young warrior to attend to the Huntsman, “Ursala, see that our guest is properly motivated to do what we ask of him.”
She then addressed the Huntsman directly, “Please do not attempt to move around much, as you will find it most uncomfortable if you do. Your testicles have been pulled through a specially cut hole in your chair and tied to a ring attached to the floor beneath you. We find that male prisoners seem to lose their desire to try to escape when bound thusly.”
The Huntsman was alarmed to hear the word ‘prisoner’, but more terrified at the way the woman had said “testicles”, and he tried to stay perfectly still. His large muscular body, hardened through years of the most arduous work cutting and hauling firewood, had been rendered helpless by a few inches of the thinnest wire, strategically encircling his most vulnerable parts. The Amazon went behind his chair and reached down to the wire and pulled on it ever so slightly. She smiled broadly when he grunted and shifted uncomfortably. She announced, “His testicles are securely fastened, High Mistress.”
“Excellent, we can proceed then. In the old days of the Matriarchy, we used to call those male organs the “orbs of truth” for only when a male is reminded of their fragility is he disposed to tell the truth”, the High Mistress calmly observed. Several of the women seated on either side of her nodded their agreement with this sentiment. The High Mistress then looked down at a parchment in front of her and then up at the Huntsman, “So, you are the great hero who saved a young girl and her grandmother from a vicious wolf, are you?” Not waiting for a response, she continued, “I have read the official report sent to the Provincial Governor by our esteemed Mayor, my husband. Is this exactly what happened, Huntsman?”
“Yes, ma’am, I mean High Mistress, it is as written…….UGH!” Ursala had given the wire another slight pull.
“Do not lie to this council, foolish male!” the High Mistress warned. “You are here to ‘testify’ in the true sense of the word, as your testicles will bear the consequences of your lies.” She looked back at the document in her hand, “This parchment contains just the sort of nonsense my husband would cook up to avoid uncomfortable realities and keep power firmly in the hands of your foolish gender. Take care, Huntsman, we are not fools and are not to be trifled with.” With that, she nodded to Ursala, who drew her knife and held it poised underneath his chair.
The Huntsman’s eyes darted around wildly and, since no male is courageous when faced with the unspeakable, tears started to well up in his eyes, “Oh, High Mistress”, he began to sob, “It is all a lie. The Mayor told me that it had to be so because the truth would raise certain unsettling questions in the people. He said in everyone’s best interests to change the story, especially mine, for I would be a hero. He said since no one knows the girl and her grandmother, but me and they live so deep in the woods that there would not be anyone to contradict the version he reported.”
The High Mistress sat and smirked, “Tell us the truth, then, great hero, but take care that it is the whole truth, for the maiden behind you has her pruning knife drawn and I believe it has not tasted a male since the Spring bull castrations.”
The Huntsman swallowed hard and told this tale:

The ‘Little’ Red Riding Hood named in the report was in fact just called “Red” because of her flaming red hair, which she wore loose and long down to her waist. She also was not very little nor particularly young, being nineteen years of age and nearly four cubits tall. It is true she owned a red riding hood, but she also had a matching red cape and sharply pointed red boots. The effect of the entire outfit was most striking, although she met a few people during her day to day life. She hunted in the deep forest and was adept with both bow and spear. Red was a formidable hunter and feared no living creature. She lived in a hut near where the hunting was best and her grandmother, her only living relative, lived a short distance away in the ancestral cottage to protect it from squatters and other potential claimants. Red brought food to her grandmother, who she called “Nana”, almost daily.
Now, there was a very unusual wolf who came to frequent the same hunting grounds, taking advantage of the plentiful game. He had just arrived from other regions which he had nearly emptied of game. What was unusual about him was that he was five times the size of an ordinary male wolf, with more than five times the appetites. In addition, he had genitalia disproportionally large even for such a gigantic carnivore, especially his gourd-shaped scrotum, which was almost always filled to near bursting with prodigious quantities of seed. The result was that he was unbearably horny all day and night long. It was well known and sometimes observed that he “tenderized’ female victims before devouring them. Over time, he had raped just about every reasonable sized kind of animal in the forest. Every doe was terrified of him.
One day, a lovely doe with long eyelashes was enjoying some Spring leaves, when the wolf jumped out of a bush he had been hiding in and blocked her escape. He raised his form menacingly on his hind legs, and the doe nearly panicked when she saw his enormous erect and furry penis staring right at her. Thinking fast, she said, “It is a shame to waste such masculine virility on one as unimpressive as I am. I hear tell that there is a most desirable female in these very woods who can make any male cum a dozen times, and even a few times after she has left. It is said that she is the ultimate male prize, but that few have the size and virility to satisfy her.”
“What is this nonsense?” the wolf roared, then he thought on her words and added, “Where would I find this female?”
“Oh Mr. Wolf, you are certainly an impressive male, for an animal, but she is human and perhaps too hard for even you to satisfy. She is the one they call “Red” and she comes down this very path each evening.” Then, seeing the wolf clearing thinking with his genitalia, she added, “They say that few have the courage to ask her for sex, but that she will give it to anyone with large enough, if you don’t mind me saying, ‘balls’ to do so.”
The wolf sat and pondered such a female, then waved the doe away, “I have the balls and then some.” His erection grew even larger at the thought and he paced back and forth and back and forth, waiting for what he hoped would be his greatest female conquest.
After a time, Red came down the path carrying a basket with some choice cuts of meat she had smoked and was bring to Nana. When she had passed by a particularly large oak tree, the wolf pounced out and blocked her path. She took a step backwards, shocked by the size of this wolf and that it took no actions to avoid her, as wolves usually did with humans, especially huntresses like herself.
“Where are you going, my pretty?” he growled.
“To my Nana’s house, you filthy beast, now get out of my way at once!” She reached for the knife she kept in her belt.
His eyes widened as he thought of how delicious it was going to feel to be inside this lovely human, and he slowly raised himself on his hind legs, exposing his enormous erection to Red. “I just want to be very friendly, Miss Red.” He said as innocently as he could muster.
She stared wide-eyed at his masculine parts, still trying to fathom what in the world was going on here. Once she understood his intent, she averted her eyes and said, “You are most impressive, Mr. Wolf, perhaps you would like some tasty smoked meat before we…..you know.”
He licked his chops, stared at the basket and moved slightly forward, muttering, “I heard that you will do things to a male, that is, if one has the ‘balls’”. His voice trailed off, lost in visions of smoked meat followed by unspeakable pleasure.
“Oh yes, if one has the ‘balls’”, she said as she smiled and stepped slowly forward, holding forward the basket. Just then, she took one large stride and kicked her bright red boot, point first, right into the middle of the wolf’s huge and swollen fur-covered scrotum.
“AAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!” bellowed the wolf as he collapsed in sections to the leaf-covered floor of the forest. As he lay crumpled at her feet, Red stepped back and put her basket down. Putting her hands on her hips, she laughed, “Usually, under these circumstances, I tell a male to stop whimpering and ‘take it like a man’, but I guess it just as apt for wolves with the ‘balls’ to try to rape me. I hope you have learned your lesson.” With that, she picked up her basket and went on her way, slowly swinging her hips and laughing.
After a few hours, the wolf crawled back to his den and spent the next few days trying to walk normally again. All this time, his pride burned from the humiliation this female had inflicted on him, and he swore revenge on her and all of her gender. Making matters worse, his seed was even more severely back up than usual and his balls ached to rape worse than ever. However, for the first time in his life, he knew the fear of the female. What if Red shared her knowledge of male weakness with other females? Rape would soon be a thing of the past. So, he knew he had to silence her before she could divulge her tactics to other females. Suddenly, a plan came to him. He would capture the one called ‘Nana’ and make Red promise to keep quiet about the ‘incident’. He might also demand that she satisfy his blinding lust. The old one would be so completely terrorized, he reasoned, that Red would not dare to kick him in the scrotum again. Convinced in the genius of his plan, he made his way to Nana’s house.
Days before, Red had told Nana all about her encounter with the wolf and they laughed and laughed together as Red pantomimed the wolf’s reaction to her well placed kick. Nana said, “I remember as young girls we used to use our knees to make sure grabby boys danced with us at a respectable distance. One knee is all it would take. After that, all you had to do was whisper ‘knee’ ever so sweetly in their ear to get them to behave. I loved seeing the fear in their eyes, and the respect that comes with knowing that we could hurt them, and hurt them at their sexual core anytime we desired to do so.”
Nana got up to refill her cup from the teapot, then chuckled under her breath. “I also remember more than one engagement that was announced by a reluctant male on the dance floor, when, under the young girl’s voluminous dress, a dainty hand had a womanly grip on a pair of soon-to-be domesticated testicles.” Red nearly spit out her tea laughing at the image of a carefully dancing male, queasy with premarital jitters of the testicular kind.
On the day the wolf arrived, Nana was alone. Red was in a lovely meadow nearby, selecting flowers for Nana’s table that evening. The wolf peered in the window and saw the old one in her kitchen. Emboldened by her age and seeming frailty, he burst into the house and told her to sit in the chair, wait for Red and not to make a sound or he would do terrible things to her. Nana slowly reached for her walking cane and compliantly tapped, tapped her way over to the chair and sat down. The wolf paced ravenously around the room, getting hornier and fearfully anxious at the same time. What if the red woman just kicked him in the testicles again without warning, he thought? He would be helpless to carry out his threat. Perhaps, he worried, he had not thought this out well enough.
Just then, Red burst through the door holding a fistful of lovely flowers. The wolf turned suddenly to face her. Her jaw dropped almost instantly upon seeing the fully erect wolf again. Before she could move a muscle to react, she saw Nana rise from the chair and she gave her a silent nod. Red blinked her approval and smiled sweetly at the wolf, “so, we meet again, my impressively hung wolf.” The wolf smiled and thought of how Red must have reconsidered her hasty rejection of him last time they met. Just then, Nana’s cane came swiftly up between the wolf’s hind legs from behind. His furry scrotum jumped up from the blow, then bounced left, then right. The wolf’s front paws converged on his groin as his hind legs gave way and he slid to the floor, his mouth open trying to emit a scream. Red saw Nana’s smile was a mile wide. Then, taking the knife from her belt, Red said, “Well, we have just about had enough of this male’s nonsense!”.
Red pushed the weakened wolf’s paws aside and hoisted him up from behind by his testicles. He was in too much pain to offer resistance, nor to issue any verbal response of any kind. She dragged him through the door and out past the corn crib to the shed where Nana used to skin animals in winter for their lustrous coats. Red slipped the knife under the wolf and with a swishing sound came up with his mountain oysters. She gave them to Nana and said, “I guess we can fry these up while they are still fresh.” Nana went inside to the kitchen while Red went back to the wolf, even though it was not yet fur season.
A few days later, the Huntsman sold Nana some firewood, cleared away a fallen tree, and heard the story of the enormous wolf. As proof of the tale, Nana produced the enormous pelt that Red had skinned off of the wolf. She asked the Huntsman to take it to the village to see if he could get any coins for it. When he arrived at the village the next day, all marveled at its size and he was pressed from all sides to tell of how such a beast had been caught and killed. The Mayor quickly isolated the Huntsman before he revealed what had really happened, and once he heard the tale, set about revising it.

The High Mistress sat back in her chair, “That sounds more like it, Huntsman. Clearly, my husband did not want a story told where women successfully defended themselves against male aggression, without male protection of course.”
The woman to the left of the High Mistress added, “Those distinguished men in the Mayor’s office are terrified of women publicizing the weakness that swings between the legs of everything male in nature, and how it is a natural fighting tactic for all things feminine to exploit that weakness.”
The High Mistress nodded, “So true, so true. They are fools to think they can keep that genie in its bottle forever.” She laughed at her own analogy, “When we need to, we will rise, seize the males by their weakness and rule over them, but why bother now. Let the fools think they are in charge.” She then noticed the Huntsman, smiled, and ordered, “Ursala, dispose of the male as you see fit.” With that, she and the five matronly women filed out.
Alone with Ursala, the Huntsman was both nervous and excited. She peered over his body to notice that his manhood was standing at full attention. She smiled as she pulled out her short knife, bent her body back down, and reached under him. With her free hand, she joined her thumb and forefinger in a circle around the base of his ample scrotum. She then let her other three fingers wrap around his testicles, first loosely, then tighter. He sat up very straight as her other hand, the knife hand descended under the chair. “Snip” was the sound of ……the wire being cut. She let it fall to the floor as his heart almost stopped. Gradually, it dawned on him that she had let him stay intact. Yet, she still had complete control over him.
She put her knife back in its sheath but held him helplessly with her other hand. She did not ask him, but told him, “You are a big healthy buck and now I take you as my mate. You will serve only me and father my children.” She then let his balls swing free but held them figuratively in a vise grip for the rest of his days. He would not have wanted it any other way.

How long does it take to give up on the 24/7 fantasy?

Posted on 14/08/2020 - 26/08/2020 by pseudonymous

Or should you even TRY?

There are hotwifes near ?

Its interesting how things work in real life. All the mental and physical distractions. Work, family, friends, health and tons more things to many to mention. In all this mess of life… we realize we need D/s to fulfill us. So we go on the hunt… to adapt our present relationship, to find a new one, or to add a 3rd to the one we have. Now we fall in love, lust or under the power exchange with another! Wooo hoo… How exciting 🙂

Then.. time goes by. Life is a powerful Master/Mistress. Always fighting with our own power exchange. Sometimes we win, sometimes life wins… lol Seems life wins more often though sigh

Sooo.. a cryptic post eh? lol
All I am trying to figure out is this. We all fantasize about what living with our D/s partner should be. AND in some ways is BETTER than our fantasy. BUT .. there is always a BUT… lol
Will we always crave more? More servitude, more obedience? More stability, more play? More of all that stuff we think that D/s is .. or should be? The grass being greener as we think so-and-so has a better owner or slave?

Is it better to work at letting go of the fantasy and accept our personal limitations when involved with D/s. That what we crave about might be good on paper, but not good for us mentally or physically?
OR…
Is it better to always be wanting to grow? To keep reaching for the golden ring? To strive to become better owners and slaves?
Or…. do you have another choice? Let me know 😉

Answers :

A D/s relationship is still a relationship. It makes some things much simpler and perhaps makes other things more difficult.

We all have challenges every day, that’s just the way life works. We would all love to sit around playing all day, but dinner still has to be made, laundry still needs to be done, and we still have to work, go to school, commute, etc. That doesn’t mean that all of those things need to get done before you deal with your relationship. That is only true if you make your relationship with your LAST priority.

Just like any kind of relationship, if you are honest, you make it a priority, communicate, and are working towards common goals, it will be rewarding for everyone.

So, I think “giving up on the fantasy” generally means at least one party is not willing to work hard enough.

Well no matter how hard a person works… I would think many things that are ‘supposed’ to be part of a D/s relationship… are just not attainable. Like caging and chains every day all day Grin
Whatever it is we read or fantasize about it.

I agree.. like keeping the romance in a vanilla relationship… it takes time and energy to keep the vision of what we fantasize about… alive.

WHERE do we draw the line? Do we feel like we just aren’t romantic enough.. even if we give flowers once a week and write poems and 5-hour foreplay? ROFL Because so many books, movies, and even our fantasies encompass SO much more?
Or.. do you accept that you are romantic enough? That to expect more is unrealistic? Can you find comfort in knowing you have attained enough? OR do you always strive for more and feel bad that you aren’t romantic enough? cough cough .. an analogy of romance and D/s 😉

No matter how hard you work, no matter how much of a priority you make your relationship… there is always more romance or more D/s that we fantasize about

Everyone likely draws the line in a different place, whether vanilla or D/s. Some folks in vanilla relationships probably feel that flowers on your anniversary– if you remember– are sufficient as romance. Others feel that rolling over and falling asleep immediately after sex s just fine, while others will tell you that nothing short of a dozen long-stemmed red roses, a bottle of champagne, and a full night of wild, passionate sex is the ideal weekly date. It’s really too individual to nail down.

For my Lord and I, we’re growing in this together. I’ve been involved in the lifestyle longer than he has, and this is his first D/s relationship, so it’s taking him a bit to figure out where he’s comfortable. When things are stressful for whatever reason, sometimes the more active part of that learning takes a back seat, but he never stops being my Owner, nor I his property.

While we may fantasize about being kept at home naked to await the whims of those who own our asses, the reality is (for most) that the bills must be paid, laundry done, groceries bought. Doing those things (with clothes on, even!) doesn’t make the relationship any less about D/s. So long as one lead and the other follows willingly, the heart of it is there.

This is a brief but complex statement that I believe can best be examined in segments. “Many things….are supposed to be part of a D/s relationship.” Yes and no, I believe that there are some things that should be part of such a relationship (slaves wear a locked collar 24/7); however, I also believe that what a slave does or does not do is primarily up to the Master.

“Many [supposedly required activities]…are just not attainable.” While it is true that some things are actually impossible, I find that most folks who cite impossibility as the reason for not doing this or that in their case are using that line as an excuse for not being willing to make the effort to convert fantasy (desire) into reality. Deciding that something is too much work for the benefit gained is not a crime; however, saying that something is impossible when you really mean “more effort than you are willing to expend” is self-deception.

“Like caging and chains every day all day.” There is no fundamental reason why this is impossible; our government didn’t seem to have a problem requiring various folks to live this way at GITMO. If this is what the Master says that life will be like in his household and a slave wants to live this way, then more power to them. Is this right for everyone; surely not, because it is very hard for both parties to maintain such a regimen. However, hard is not a synonym for impossible.

What is the fundamental difference between choosing to live in almost total silence in a monastic cell and choosing to live in a cage or chains? Both require a great deal of sacrifice and commitment to a philosophy along with a high threshold for boredom. Society accepts and typically respects the monks and nuns who vow obedience, chastity, poverty and, in some orders, silence; but often treats us as a bunch of nuts when we propose to live in an analogous manner. Perhaps we need to rethink how we describe ourselves.

I think I “get” what you are saying now (not sure I understood you before). You mean your relationship is not living up to what YOU expect/fantasize about etc. If I’ve gotten it wrong, just pretend I ended up there somewhere while saying something supportive. 🙂

I HATE words and phrases like “requirements”, “supposed to be” and “expectations”. They are used much too often to describe relationships that are very personal and can ONLY be defined by the people in them. What you require, what you are supposed to be, and what you expect is as individual as you are, and can only be defined by YOU. Are the two of you happy? Then it is RIGHT!!!

Secondly, I have had fantasies that are absolutely unattainable and would be downright unhealthy for our relationship. Doesn’t mean I can’t have them! Do I give up on having those? Nope, I enjoy the hell out of it! Fantasy is fantasy, if it was something else we would call it reality!

In every relationship, no matter what kind, you have to decide if you are fufilled with what you have. If not, Can you make more of your fantasies a part of your relationship? Caged up 24/7 may be possible for some, but I suspect very rarely, and it mostly lives in porn.

_”Caged up 24/7 may be possible for some, but I suspect very rarely, and it mostly lives in porn.”_

This brings something else to mind, only lightly off-topic: have those who want to be caged 24/7 ever spent a few days like that while their Owner was off at work or doing other things? There are no cutaways or time-lapse scenes in real life, and while it may look like fun in the movies, it may not be so much fun in real life. Being alone in a cramped space for 8 – 12 hours with nothing to do, no way to access food, water, or bathroom will likely be enjoyable only for so long.

For Owner-types who want to keep a slave caged like that, remember that you then need to feed them, walk them, change their papers. It’s a lot of work looking after a caged creature, whether quadruped or biped.

Reality tends to rain on fantasy’s parade in the most unpleasant ways, doesn’t it?

A lot of times real life does get in the way of D/s. My girl is teaching summer school right now, and has very intense days in the classroom, and nights spent preparing lesson plans, grading papers, and such. So I don’t get breakfast in bed, someone bringing me tea, and someone reminding me to drink water. I have to do dishes. My boy has to accompany me to the Farmer’s Market to pick up donations for the food bank where I volunteer. I’m doing laundry again. It’s all good. Things happen.

We’re also remodeling the house we bought, and believe me when your sub is the one with plumbing expertise, then he tells YOU to run over to Home Depot and get parts. The D/s dynamic does have to take a back seat to real life at times.

Still and all, there is an underlying dynamic still there.

As I recently said in an interview: “You can focus on what you don’t have or appreciate what you do. Life is less stressful when you focus on what you have and how to make that better.”

See, I never had this “fantasy” or image of how exactly owning a slave would work out. I figured right from the start that I’d keep teaching and/or writing myself and I know myself well enough to know I’m never going to be comfortable enough to let someone else do all the mundane things for me. For me it really has been a matter of me having the final authority and say when I want it. Thus not much room for a lot of disappointment if I’ve chosen a partner who agrees with that definition of owner and slave.

That isn’t to say that I don’t have an active fantasy life — I’m a published fiction author, after all, comes with the job. It isn’t to say that we are perfect — far from it since we just human beings. It isn’t to say that I wouldn’t welcome more slaves or partners into my household in the future. I just try to focus on what I have and making it work.

To be honest, the owner-slave things work far more smoothly than my husband-wife dynamic does.

Snip…I would think many things that are ‘supposed’ to be part of a D/s relationship… are just not attainable. Like caging and chains every day all day Grin Whatever it is we read or fantasize about.

The one thing to keep in mind here is that D/s is what you make of it. There is no one who is going to say if you are in a D/s relationship you have to do this. It is what the two of you decide it is.

No it is not possible to live the life of fiction that we have read in erotic stories(spending 24/7 tied to the wall waiting to be used, or kept in a cage until our owner wants us), any more than it is possible for someone who is into sci-fi to live the life of a starship captain.

That being said it is very possible to live the D/s lifestyle 24/7. Yes there are times when I have to be the authority figure, or with my children to the dominant personality, or the leader of a group, or whatever the case may be. This is after all real life. We all have responsibilities that we are expected to take care of. Work, families, bills, life in general happens. But who is to say that those things have to hinder a D/s relationship?

My Master expects me to take care of my children, to take care of the house, work, schoolwork, my health, etc. HE has placed that responsibility on me. He doesn’t want me to run to him every minute to ask him what I should have for lunch, or if I should take my kids to the dr when sick, or if I should study for a test. Those are my responsibilities because he gave them to me as mine. All of these things I do and more I do to the best of my ability, the way he would want me to do them, with him on my mind as I go about doing them.

No relationship D/s or not can always be about personal gratification. And let’s face it, at the heart of the matter, that is what D/s is for us. We receive personal gratification from serving, or being served, from being beaten or from beating another, from the power exchange.

So to answer the question, although I cannot spend all day long kneeling at Master’s feet and waiting to serve him in any way he may desire, like I would like to; the power exchange is always a part of everything I do. As you say I haven’t given up on the “fantasy” of D/s because I do live it 24/7.

A relationship is a relationship, its only as good as the two parties make it and are willing to put into it, regardless of if its kinked or not.

Life happens, you work with it like anything.

Yes it might not be as you first thought but nothing ever is as you wont it to me 100% of the time, so you learn to adapt and work with what you have. If not things go south and fall apart around you and you have to pick up and move on or try and fix things.

Well its nice to see such a variety of responses. Some agitated me and some made me smile… all warm and fuzzy giggles

I truly adore my Master, my hubby, my friend, and my lover. Most days we feel lucky to have met each other. To be in sync for types of play, business, pleasure, traveling, family values, etc… is amazing. It’s hard to find a good match JUST in BDSM .. but have that AND that match falls into personal and business life.. family as well. Yummmm. He still makes my skin tingle or my heart rush… with a touch, a reprimand, or a thoughtful gesture. Mmmmmmmmm

It’s not day today I feel that frustration… about life not meeting fantasy. AND I know that it cant. At least not MY fantasies giggles
BUT I still get that itch, that frustration… I am wondering if it goes away after 20 years? 50? ROFL Maybe like vanilla’s… that craving for MORE romance comes and goes… as life allows it 🙂
bottoms up 🙂

_So where is the balance when the need strikes? What are acceptable ways of dealing with it on a r/t and practical/rational basis?_

I believe that the “balance” lies as close to the core of the fantasy as you can get. I’m unaware of any benefit gained by depriving yourself of a harmless desire. If the desire is not harmless (eating pounds of chocolate, etc) then moderation is in order. Note: nit-picking over whether anything is truly harmless is not germane to this discussion.

Regarding acceptable ways of achieving your desires; how bad do you want whatever it is you desire? I believe that if someone truly wanted to live as a slave they should either forgo having children or delay their fulfillment until their children are grown. There is nothing impractical or irrational about making great sacrifices to achieve a goal.

In my youth, I aspired to be champion marksmen. I was fairly good until I realized that I had to give more of myself. For several years I was basically a recluse; I went to school, ate, slept, and practiced endlessly. In 1967 I did well enough at the National Rifle Championships to earn an invitation to the preliminary Olympic tryouts. Didn’t make the U.S. team but I got a lot farther than most. Was it rational to forgo a social life, friends and other activities to achieve a desire? Yes, I believe it was. Was it practical? No, I spent every dime I could earn, beg and borrow buying shooting supplies. Was attaining the goal worth the effort? You bet it was, though many of my friends thought I was totally nuts, had my priorities all wrong, was obsessing, etc.

Bottom line: if you value the goal (fantasy fulfillment) as worth the cost then go for it and don’t spend two minutes worrying about what someone else thinks about your decision; they are not living your life.

Yes … your question is still in my mind… lol
I guess its like.. wanting to have your cake and eat it too?
Wanting family, friends, vanilla dreams and aspirations .. AND wanting this wonderful D/s fantasy life 🙂
I am thinking.. you never really attain your fantasy… nor should you. Its like reaching for that golden ring… always striving for more. Still, the ride on the merry-go-round is a hoot. Just cause I havent caught that ring as I pass by it.. time and time again…. doesnt mean I cant enjoy the ride… lol

AS I tell myself all this.. I still have that itch, that ache… and I smile or growl at it … depending on my mood that moment.. lol
bottoms up

‘BUT I still get that itch, that frustration… I am wondering if it goes away after 20 years’

I certainly hope not…
Maybe it is a very philosophers-point-of-view, but I think that ‘itch’ is what drives people to improve, discover and learn. If the man (or woman,lol) who built the first wheel hadn’t felt an itch for making something new which was more convenient, well…I guess we would al be walking still, and wouldn’t have cars, planes and trains.

I think it is a good sign to have that itch. To want to learn, and discover. As long as it doesn’t degrade what you have right now. Willing to learn is not the same as being unsatisfied I think.

For me fantasies are to be fulfilled. Period. Perhaps I don’t have wholly fantastic fantasies that could not be played out. The idea of caging and chains every day all day, while appealing, is not as appealing as concentrating the intensity of coupling for four or five hours between our sleeping and waking lives.
I think I’m a good example of always wanting more. My name is insatiable9, however, I sincerely hope there is satisfaction out there for me. When I find THE ONE for me I expect to want more of her, but not more as a difference. We will grow and change together, but the desire which brought us together in the relationship (both vanilla and kink) will grow as well.
Romance? Can’t live without it. I could not go a day without flogging, kissing, or planning a sweet surprise. Falling asleep aside a sweaty, oily, bruised, panting, cheerleader, chained and gagged, collared and leashed, stuffed with toys and humming from the vibrations is as much a turn on as waking up next to the same girl every day thereafter.
I think you need to put the BDSM fantasy books down and start living your own life. Who the hell said caging and chains all day are “supposed” to be done in order to be 24/7? Whoever it was lied to you. I am a 24/7 slave. I’ve been with my husband for 16 years. I am not caged or chained all day. I have to go to work and I have chores to be done when I’m home.

Things like living in chains usually is just fantasy. That doesn’t mean that being 24/7 is fantasy or that not having those things means your life is missing anything. Enjoy what you do have. Enjoy the things you like instead of worrying about what the books and novellettes say you must do. Stop worrying about what life looks like and just live it. You’ll be better off in the end.

I am of the belief you should possibly wake up and smell the coffee..

life can be wonderful and exciting.. you can choose to look at your one and think about how wonderful life is..or think about how things should be and be miserable..

personally.. with me in my world.. I wake up each day and see my one and am grateful to have him.. even on his cranky days..

I never know what the day or night will bring..

we are old and retired now..and can pretty much do as we please.. and we get the urge to take a trip ..or play at something..

if we happen to think of something interesting to try.. then we do..

we are not what I refer to as a D/s relationship… I view that as pretty much play… not saying it is..but simply how I view it..

we were both born and raised in what we live and definitely have no fantasies.. we are a master-slave relationship .. we live it 24/7.. whatever whim we have.. we do it.. so no fantasies.. we actually have been like this all of our life together..which is probably longer than most have been alive… we are not into kink.. or fetishes..though.. I kind of wonder lately what kink and fetishes are.. or should I say.. what others define them as..

I have never been chained or in a cage.. that just never seemed to appeal to either of us..

I don’t need those to feel like a slave.. though.. I really am not sure what a slave is supposed to feel like.. at least to compared to what others talk about here..

I guess in short I would simply say.. live life to the fullest and enjoy it.. if something comes along and it is new and exciting..then go for it.. but for goodness sake.. don’t sit around and dream up things you “think” you are missing.. or how you think things should be..

if you worry about fantasies.. life will pass you by and you will end up miserable and to be honest. no one and nothing can ever measure up to fantasies.. you need to keep things to a level that can be achieved.. don’t set yourself up to be unhappy and fail..

learning is good.. growing is good.. and yes..challenges are good..but don’t try to live like some romance novel..

I find life is more interesting if we maintain a healthy balance or real-life and fantasy. Enjoy what we have and yet desire more.

This desire for more is what fuels growth and learning. Once we stop growing we begin to die. When we stop learning we being to become ignorant. Life has taught me such things. Look at a coin, you might see the two faces as yin and yang… have and want… past and future… known and unknown… sad and unspoken. Don’t become obsessed with one side or you lose precious balance.

Kink is nice. My desire for more kink is always there, but I still enjoy the non-kinky aspect of my relationship with angel. My angel is lacking in health right now, so I only do what I can with her but it keeps our relationship alive. A second would be nice to have – enjoying that kink that is put off for now. All I know is good things are in store and I can wait.

What are your first memories of dominant or kinky tendencies?

Posted on 11/07/2020 - 26/08/2020 by pseudonymous

What are your first memories of behaviors that exhibited dominant or kinky tendencies?

Your kinky date is here

Answers:

About 4 or 5 years old, outside, standing while a group of other kids is sitting on the ground around me, and me telling them they weren’t doing it right and going on to lecture them on exactly what they were doing right and how it should have been done.
Leader of a gang of four-year-olds till age six when there no other kids to beat up.
All of us were cousins & we would just go around the block kicking the rest of the kids butts for fun.
We usually got punished but continued the terror back then no one got stabbed or shot.
Just a somewhat bossy child, taking over the basketball court and organizing the teams. Keeping score, returning the equipment and such, being responsible mattered even back then, funny. D.
when I was about ten, I saw Ben Hur.. after that I was quite taken with the idea of being chained in a ship with no method of escape.
at about the same age I used to play cops n robbers or cowboys n Indians with the kids from the farm and lane nearby. one girl liked to tie you up if she caught you with her skipping rope and challenge you to escape.. somehow I was always the first to be caught 🙂
When I was very young I would boss everyone around and they would listen, even my older siblings lol. I had always been a “bossy child” for as long as I can remember. And I loved playing games cops and robbers and using the “handcuffs”, a teacher I loved using a ruler ect…….almost every role I was in charge.
Early on, say from about age 4,I was always the “instigator”-other children were drawn to me and wanted to do what I did, or be on my team.I am fairly small (5’2″ as an adult) but I guess my brass balls make me appear much larger :).I was painfully shy at one point, but I could never back down from a challenge.99% of the time,a bully would wind up slinking off with his/her tail between their legs just from a verbal set-down. The 1% who actually challenged me to a physical altercation got laughed at when I was waiting(alone) at the appointed time/place because they felt the need to show up with 10 friends.
Have always had a very active imagination -most of the “scenes” I envisioned from a very young age (looking back) involved some type of kink or fetish.I would make (or modify) toys because what was sold in stores didn’t work with my deviant imaginings.Other kids dressed up Barbie-I was making my own dolls and their “gear”.It’s actually something I still do for my daughters, a few friends and custom figures for sale.
I believe I was 6, I saw the movie “Sleeping Beauty,” I saw Malificent and said to myself “I want to be with HER!” LM
Thanks for all the great answers!! I was thinking about my journey into BDSM recently and suddenly remembered the hell I would put my Ken doll through. I grew up with no neighbors or siblings, so making up stories and playing pretend with my dolls was my preferred game. I had lots and lots of Barbies, but only one Ken (a gift from a relative concerned by the very Sapphic all-female society I had built.) I slapped an apron on him and he became their slave. Probably not what my aunt had in mind. He eventually lost his legs. I’m not sure how that happened.
when i was about 8 I wonder what it woud be like to wear my sister’s bra and have boobs of my own
I remember tying up my barbie dolls at a fairly young age (I didn’t have Ken). I remember making custom “slave garments” and cuffs with connecting chains. I would tie them to the saddles of my (plastic) horses. I was way into Gor then (started that VERY young, always an advanced reader).

Wasn’t very long before I was playing “Let me tie you up and see if you can escape” with the neighborhood boys. They never could escape… evil grin

First and foremost, thank you all for sharing your stories. I actually just recently created a profile after stumbling upon this site. I’m the classic case of wanting to experience kink/fetishes, but was to fearful to pursue the desire.

Two main memories come to mind when thinking about my first kink/femdom experiences. The first was in the form of fantasy… When I was roughly 4-8 years old, I would regularly imagine that I was the leader of an all male gang consisting of my favorite cartoon heros and we would fight an all-female gang. I was dreaming of an female Amazonian society before I even knew what one was. Long story short I would always be captured and forced to do whatever my female captors wanted. Guess I should have seen the signs then.

I think the experience that really got to me though was with a neighbor girl. She would come over to play and after the parents were out of sight, she would command me to do things. Sometimes it would be for me to make something for her, smell her feet or act foolishly. We eventually started playing the doctor and I obeyed everything she told me to do.

My, as far back as I can remember I had to run behind a bush or in the woods and take my clothes off. It felt so natural to me.
I always had a close dominant female friend around as a child though I played sports and hung with other boys. But there was always one certain female around that I would spend hours with. Always assertive personalities that I would enjoy following along. One was my neighbor till I was 8 years old and then we moved. There I met the girl across the street, sweet and cute as can be. But she would come over and grab my hand as I was playing with the guys and lead me away to play house with her and her gfs. I had many enjoyable times playing the obedient husband serving and doing what the girls wanted.
As a teen I was lost. I didn’t know how to act. I saw all the guys I grew up with turn macho and put the moves on and getting laid by alot of our gfs. But not me. I was getting used by the stronger personality girls that overwhelmed me with their assertive commanding “follow me” motions. Never met one that was kinky or truly understood the sway she held over me. Hmmm, I always wondered what that could have been like.
My earliest memories of kinky tendencies or thoughts were sparked by a child’s book, Peter Pan. I was probably 5 or 6 and I remember reading it and seeing Peter Pan’s sister Wendy, who had been captured by Captain Hook, with her hands tied behind her back and being made to walk the plank. I remember staring at that picture for hours.

That eventually morphed into the opposite desire. The desire for DOMINANT women, but I realized at that age that there was something very exciting about bondage.

Mine is a great deal different than those posted.
I was in grade school, not sure of my age & had the same dream over & over again through my young years. I was in someone’s bedroom, who’s I have no idea? I was laying on the floor at the foot of the bed. There were two Large women in very short, very sheer see-through tops that didn’t cover much at all & high heels. I remember them talking as they walked around the room & me. Can’t remember hearing much of what was said. They sat down on the bed above me. I could see only ass & breasts, did not see any pussy (maybe I was too young to know or see what we’ve come to love) why? Dreams are dreams. Anyway, they took off their high heels & both of them placed their feet on me. I could feel their feet moving all over my body & face. They seemed to enjoy it. I could hear talk & laugh. I saw the bottoms of their feet just b4 they were placed on my face. Their Were Redish Circles on the bottoms of their feet! (as if their feet were pressed on a jar or can & held there tightly so that it left a round mark???) I would wake all excited! but not knowing why? A few years later I found out why. From then on, I would sneak looks at women in high heels & have a big fetish now.
Weird I know! But I was much too young to have or understand my love for women’s feet in high heels.
If anyone has any idea as to why I would dream about this Or………. What the Circles on the bottoms of their feet mean???? I’d love to know???? To this day I can’t figure that out.
Of course I didn’t realize the relationship until just recently, but the kink started relatively early as I have masturbated since I was very young (at least 5 years old), with bobby pins, hairbrushes, Q-tips and other things I could find around the house. Being dominant around guys would have started a little later – in high school – I loved being a tease – getting the males all worked up and then denying them – rubbing all over them and I know I had a bad girl reputation — people thought I slept around when I was a virgin until I was in college.
The earliest memory I can think of was tying my brother’s Batman action figure up when i was about 6 or 7. When I told my best friend a few years ago that i was into kink, she said she always suspected because when we played man hunt around 9 and 10, i would always boss the boys that i caught around and force them to sit down and stay 🙂 So i guess I’ve always known as well.
I would have to date my submissive kinky tendencies back to about the age 5. I used to visit my grandma’s apartment complex. There were 2 girls about the same age as me. They would chase me around the courtyard and once I was captured, they would tie me to their railing with their jump rope. Ever since then, I’ve always enjoyed being tied up and restrained.
My first identification with submissiveness came back in 1962 watching the movie, Lawrence of Arabia, in which Peter O’Toole as Lawrence is bound, tortured and sodomized by the Ottoman Bey played by José Ferrer. Ever since, I get all tingly thinking about being subjected to that kind of cruel and erotic treatment.
My first submissive memory is from grad school. I was around 10 years old. Some girls had “caught” one of my friends and had tied him to a chair with their scarfs and then they teased and tickled him.
Back in that age sex was of course something very abstract, and I just remember how much I envied him, and that the envy was not because he got attention but because he was helpless and being teased and laughed at.
In school, we had a medical checkup and as a part of that we were measured height and weight and was stripped down to underpants for corrective measures. Afterward, we got a few questions by the doctor with a nurse present. As 7 year old, an incident happened that I believe paved my path thru submission. The doctor was a large woman in her 40ies, As I stood before her she praised my shoulders as very strong and then she pulled my pants down and grabbed my penis and balls in her hand. She squeezed and massaged while she commented on my foreskin to the nurse. I was at loss standing there totally dependant on the doctors behavior. My penis got hard and she just kept on looking me in my eyes while she smiled at my humiliation. When I left the doctors office my mind and feelings were in turmoil. That incident connected the pleasant feeling of someone touching my cock with the humiliation of being made to stand there exposed with no way out.
I was into comic books and I loved how she could be so sexy and control men so easy with a little piece of rope. Plus she came from an island where Women were far superior to men, all amazons. No man was allowed to set foot on the island without being horribly beaten and kicked off. A place where Women held supreme power. Strong Women who still appeared graceful, charming, and poised.
Of course, WonderWoman had those awesome red boots to kick butt in too! I dreamed about waking up on that island and growing up there. I must have been 6 or 7 when I discovered her comic.
I was an extremely bossy, domineering, little girl with perfectionist tendencies. I remember organizing other children to be in an at home “play” while we were no more than 8 years old and telling everyone exactly what to say and do. When things didn’t go right I grew furious. My role was of course the star. It’s hilarious to think back on.

A lot of play in childhood involved me being kind but very controlling.

I always remember being interested in feet and being interested in strong women (eg: Xena) even before I hit puberty. Also, I would intentionally fall off the monkey bars on the playground to feel the pain-I only stopped after I broke my wrist!
When I saw wonder women beat up men, I knew I wanted to serve a lady like that. strong, confident, In control
LOL putting on the pair of boots in my parent’s closet when i was 8 or so and doing it when they weren’t home cause I already had a feeling it wasn’t something i wanted them to know about. play camping with my sister and friends maybe 10 or so and I was pretending I was stuck in my sleeping bag and helpless. Playing cowboys and Indians, cops and robbers, etc, i realized that i was always the one being taken, prisoner!!! holy sh!t…Also, Catwoman has been my favorite character since i can remember. being an anthropologist by training….hmmmmmmmmmmm is it nature or nurture???

Do you think that female is a really higher sex than males?

Posted on 28/06/2020 - 26/08/2020 by pseudonymous

I believe it is not only about dominance, not only about pleasure, but it is also where females should be, and males too, serving, pleasing, satisfying, comforting, the superior sex, in some funny way I feel it will be spread to all aspects of life for men just to survive.

But the serious part, do you think that female is really higher sex than males, how do you define it, are you satisfied with the idea? share me your valuable thoughts 🙂

Answers:

I think women are superior sexually, in general, and their sexuality confers on them some distinct advantages in relationships with me. I can never get my head around it because it seems hugely unfair, but it’s just how things are to me. The way I see it, women have a distinct sexual advantage. There is also the fact that women, as well as children and most men, deserve respect and courtesy just because they’re people.

I want to think of individual women as superior to me, but they have to be willing to accept that role, or it doesn’t work. I treat most women as equals because they’re a colleague, a friend, an employee, a stranger, a fellow human being, but honestly, I can’t see them as superior.

Female supremacy is a fantasy I enjoy, but in real life, it can’t work. Most women wouldn’t understand being treated as superior, any more than I would if a submissive woman for some reason believed in male supremacy (LOL). It’s too individual to be applied to everyone.

“…women have a distinct sexual advantage…”

I am sure I have seen you express this sentiment before, and I do apologize if you have explained it previously, but what do you mean by it? I know you always have well thought out views, so am interested in understanding it a little better.

No, I don’t believe women are superior. Even in a relationship with my submissive, I am not superior to him, he is my equal and he hands over control willingly to me. If he chooses to believe I am superior, he is free to do so, but I don’t buy into it. And putting all women above all men makes as much sense to me as the reverse.
I believe that women are superior to men. I think part of why I feel that way has been suggested in this thread. How should I word this not to offend anyone? Most men have a one track mind and that is to ejaculate. Men are visual creatures and it usually doesn’t take a lot of stimulus to make any male have an orgasm. A simple picture in a magazine can do it. A lot times once and he’s done. Because of this the female is many times left unfulfilled especially if she can have multi-orgasms. So to have a woman control my lust and orgasms until I fully pleasure her is fantastic. I think a male is subservient to a dominant female and I know I’m more content if my body belongs to her. From a scientific standpoint women are evolutionary more superior or advanced than men. Remember that the more specialized an organism becomes the more advanced it is. For example from biology class in school the four chambered heart of the mammals over the three chambered heart of the frog. A woman has two distinct orifices. She has one for reproduction and one for urination. The man only has one orifice for both. Hence the female is more specialized there could be considered more superior on the evolutionary totem pole so to speak. But I think women are just superior because they are so lovely and should be worshipped like a Goddess. I know I’m most content when I’m a slave to one.
I don’t believe in any sort of gender superiority. I am sure it makes for a nice bdsm fantasy but in reality it just isn’t true. Saying someone is better because of gender is, in my opinion, no different than saying someone is better because they are black or white, or because they have blond hair or black hair. If you want to get into gender superiority then how exactly do you take into consideration the genderqueer? As a female domme I would not want to be in any sort of relationship with someone I thought was inferior to me. I also don’t see slaves or subs as inferior. They are equal partners in relationships. It wouldn’t do me any good to be a domme without slaves to dominate. It’s just one more example of yin/yang.

And to all of the sub/slave guys who talk so much about females being great an superior: What exactly have you done to help womankind? Have you been a positive role model for little girls? Have you donated time to any womens causes? Have you helped out homeless women or drug addicted women get back on their feet? If you truly believe what you are saying then I imagine you would have done a lot to support women other than worshiping in the privacy of your home or talking about their superiority online.

I do not believe in gender superiority.

I think there are two concepts relevant to this discussion: female supremacy and female superiority.

By female supremacy I mean a situation where women are granted a greater social status. By female superiority I mean that women are thought to be inherently superior.

I think female supremacy is a fun concept in the context of BDSM–I have enjoyed femdom parties and events that had this theme. However, even there exists reality. I have come to see that I might not be comfortable with granting power or obedience to every woman who is at such a gathering beyond polite deference.

Thus, I appreciate female supremacy at some level within kink but subscribe most to the concept of dominant supremacy: I like to give the person or persons to whom I wish to submit a greater status in various ways.

Often female supremacy and female superiority are used interchangeably, likely because the basis or justification for the supremacy is thought to be superiority, a point on which I will comment further in a subsequent post.

The concept of gender superiority appeals to me neither empirically nor intuitively. My intuition and observation support the notion that diversity brings greatest synergy. All other things equal, I think a group of men and women would deliver more synergy over a group of men only or a group of women only.

I am open to the idea of an intelligent discussion about gender superiority but I am yet to see one provide a well reasoned discussion making a case for it. Whenever I encounter a discussion about gender superiority, a natural question to ask is what is the metric for determining superiority. For instance, weewee argues that women are superior from an evolutionary point of view because a woman has a different orifice for urination and reproduction, which is not a compelling argument or metric even if his statement was anatomically accurate.

I can somewhat understand why some who believe in female superiority might do so. I think BDSM fantasies or play carry more power if there is an element of realism in there. For instance, before I found BDSM, fantasies about somehow being coerced by the mean girl in class were more powerful than one about a sorceress. For my fantasies to seem real, there were two questions to be answered: (1) why would I allow someone to treat me this way, and (2) why would someone treat me in a manner that society forbids?

I think this want for realism or explanation leads some people to develop constructs to justify their submission. Because male submission contradicts most with what society teaches us, I think this tendency for constructs is greatest in the Fm realm. Thus we see fantasies about giantesses, amazons, martial arts, guns, and blackmail more commonly in the Fm arena than we do in the Mf arena.

I think for some people the concept of female superiority serves as such a construct; a given man should submit to women because they are superior and it is natural for him to submit to acknowledge their superiority; a given woman should treat this man as a lesser being because he is a lesser being before her, and her dominance and SM will flow more readily if she looks down upon him.

On a separate note, I will add that I think we are headed towards times when women as a whole will assume a more prominent and powerful position in society in comparison to men.

To add my two cents to the question you posed to Tiger, I think women do enjoy an advantage socially. I think that those women are sought by men–however much of that is due to culture and however much due to biology–gives women power. All other things equal, it is easier for a woman to seduce or secure the interest of a man than the other way around. There is power in being desired more than one desires another, and I think in general this power is available more to women than to men.

Also, the issue of having to deal with unwanted advances aside and all other things equal (social traits), it is easier for a single woman to find social acceptance (amongst men, women, and couples) at a gathering of strangers (a BDSM munch) than it is for a man.

Within vanilla relationships, I see more couples where the dominant partner is a woman. I think all other things equal, times are starting to lean in favor of tilting the power in favor of women. I think the reason is that prominent sources of power for men in times past, physical power and financial power, are diminishing whereas what brings power to women (sexual power and the ability to influence or coerce outside brute strength) still holds. Furthermore, financial power of women has grown and make exceed that of men given current trends for seeking education.

what I mean about sexual advantage is pretty well summed up in first paragraph above: women have what I need, emotionally, sexually, energetically – I dunno – biologically, spiritually, and I FEEL like I need that more than they need whatever I have to offer. I restrict this statement to myself. It’s partly a self-esteem thing. I just never got much of it, and while I know women generally like me, if you don’t have a lot of self-esteem, you don’t come across very well.

Confidence in appropriate amounts is very attractive, to either sex. So, from a personal standpoint, it’s natural for me to see a woman I’m drawn to as having an advantage over me, and my response is to feel very submissive.

“Man is the one who desires, woman the one who is desired. This is a woman’s entire but decisive advantage. Through man’s passions, nature has given man into woman’s hands, and the woman who does not know how to make him her subject, her slave, her toy, and how to betray him with a smile in the end is not wise.”

Your viewpoint is worthy of thought and praise, you have shown intelligence, sensitivity and compassion. You are a thoughtful person.

However, in one sentence you said this…

“All other things equal, it is easier for a woman to seduce or secure the interest of a man than the other way around.”

This is not a true statement, all other things are NOT equal and these are the things that contribute to gender stereotypes.

You are presuming that both genders seek the same thing.. .perhaps, but the reason for seeking it is completely different in today’s society than it was when seduce or secure was all we needed back there in them olden days grins and because we do have well established mental and physical gender differences those reasons in this link of the evolutions chain are very divurgent!

It SEEMS to me, (and it’s pure contemplating my navel speculation on Boxing Day lazy day) that…

Woman are seeking love and longevity sexually… we are seeking the freedom to express ourselves as ourselves openly. Something we actually never HAVE been able to due to the need to survive when we were lower on the evolution scale.

Men are seeking sexual quantity in the dominant position and complete lack of control sexually in a submissive one in a BDSM context from what I can see. In an overall context they are seeking a cause to become empowered by aligning with the winning side!

Most men and some women think in terms of power in groups, as the largest number who agree with them is the more powerful.

Most woemn and some men think of it in terms of empowering THEMSELVES so we can all be who we are inside comfortably.

And that is just my skewed Boxing Day navel contemplation of the day!

laughing at myself here

Oh but I am saying all this to you as your equal because I think your worthy of that status. warm smile

All other things being equal is a fantasy but it is irrelevant because they are not equal.

To treat everyone as equally as possible, that is for me the only ethical way to treat my fellow humans.

I too would ONLY choose a partner I considered my equal over all, the role we choose to express in our relationship does not dictate overall equality….

But perhaps you cannot know that until you have experienced being accepted as inferior…

Speaking from the perspective of a Woman who takes on the Dominant role in my lifestyle, I am superior to the men in my life.
I am not superior to all men. I do believe that women who want it can have and use sex to their advantage in making a man their submissive. Considering that we are all human individuals, there can’t be any hard and fast rules that would define one or another without examining the individuals involved.
There may be social and or peer group standards that we choose to live by.
Woman can be superior but by nature of being a woman they are not automatic superior to men
in my opinion
I find it strange that a great deal of this discussion has been about how women gain power over men through sexuality. It seems to be a given that the main way a woman accesses power is if she caters to the stereotypes of beauty and youth so desired by mass media. If she were to grow old, become disfigured or not seek to ‘tease’ men with the promise of her charms, it is almost insinuated that she would not have any power to control men. This mindset seems to propagate the idea that women have no power inherent in themselves but rather only have the power that is conveyed to them by men by being the objects of their desire.
You said, “And to all of the sub/slave guys who talk so much about females being great a superior: What exactly have you done to help womankind? Have you been a positive role model for little girls? Have you donated time to any women’s causes?” I usually do not respond to a Domme in this manner and I do not care for drama in threads but you asked and seemed to think that most of us were all talk and no action. So let me enlighten you about the other this little subbie. I have a counterbalance side that is ruthless. I have given time, money, clothes, and food to Good Sanitarian Home and several other abused women shelters. If you want to see the dark evil come out of me abuse a woman (in anger hatred) in front of me. My wife and I extracted three women who were being beaten and brought them to our house for safety. During one of those, the asshole returned home while I was moving her out and pulled a gun. That drunken fucker almost died that night and I probably should have killed him anyway. Another time the guy across the street slammed his wife up against the car and slapped her because the daughter had gotten something on her white Easter Sunday dress. I started walking across and had full intention of seeing how damn much dirt I could put on that assholes suit but he jumped in the car and sped away. They lived there several more years and he never did touch her again in front of me. Another time I was out at night driving and came upon a man with his hands around the throat of a naked woman lying under him. The next thing he heard was a 38 being cocked at the back of his head. When he released his grip she gasped. If she hadn’t I would have shot him right then and there. I waited with her until the police and ambulance arrived. Then there was the 16-year-old running screaming down the street being chased by some boy wheedling a big wrench. He struck her and she went down. I ran out covered with my body and again stuck a 38 in his face and begged him to hit me but the chicken ran away. I again waited with her until the police and ambulance arrived. I turn she had broken up with the nut because he had hit her. I identified him in court. I don’t care if you believe me or not but if you want to see the evil side of this sub just abuse a woman in my presence. And furthermore is you wish to commit suicide by proxy abuse a child in my presence. So I am more than just talking about wishing to treat a woman like a Goddess because that’s how I see them.
I certainly see your point, but maybe I can clarify what I meant, at least. I don’t think sexuality is defined by age. It certainly varies with age, but just because a woman gets older doesn’t mean she has to lose her sexual appeal. Why wouldn’t the same be true for a man? Sexuality and sexual energy are things we can manifest all our lives. Sex doesn’t just mean that involving naked bodies and penetration. It goes much farther. It’s in the heart and the brain too. I hope I never lose all of those, even as my body gets older, and I’d keep looking to women, young or old, who feel the same way.

I’m a sexual being and make no apologies for that anymore, to anyone. That’s how most of us are put together, so a few things come with that territory, like physical attraction. But that’s far from all there is. I mean, for one obvious thing, women can embody nurturing energy at any age – it may increase with age – that will always attract me. I can feel validated as a male by a woman of any age. Those things won’t change until I’m in the ground. The energy, the spark, whatever you want to call it, don’t depend on age. I think I’ll always be hungry for those things. I hope so. I hope I’m flirting with submission when I’m 80 if I live that long, and maybe it’ll be with a woman who’s 85 – who knows.

you wrote It is also interesting to notice that the power that is ascribed to men seems to come from their simply being men. As a man it is assumed he has power over himself, his sexuality, and his life.

For the life of me, it’s a mystery. I don’t know what men have to have to be powerful, to women or to society. I don’t know why women are interested in men, either. Can you explain that to me in terms that are devoid of ‘sexism?’ What’s “a man” to you, at an intimate level, not a societal one?

Part of anyone’s power just comes from how other people see them. There’s charismatic power, financial power, intellectual power, physical power, political power, etc. And then there’s how we see ourselves; how powerful we think we are. If you believe yourself to be powerful, you’re much more likely to be seen as powerful by others.

Our society is biased toward seeing men as powerful, compared with women. But in my head, women are very powerful. I don’t have to explain or justify that to satisfy anyone else’s standards, or to meet their definition of sexist or non-sexist. I am how I am as a human being. To me, personally, some women are very powerful.

That has NOTHING to do with the respect I accord other people as human beings, women, men, or children. But that’s not why I’m on FetLife. I’m here because to me, in my brain, my psyche, my heart, my life experience, some women are powerful and have certain advantages over me, biological, psychic, emotional…

Not over other men or women; just me. They’re not better or worse as human beings, but in the mysterious realm of sexual and erotic energy, certain women are very important and have various types of power that I do not, and therefore I seem to need them to have those powers – I ask them to have them, at least for a while.

This is an entirely personal POV. I don’t care how anyone else sees it. It’s not relevant to my experience. They have their own stuff to deal with. I don’t care if women are really superior or not. I suspect it all averages out in the end.

But I don’t live with dreams of averages. I live with my own dreams and want to share them with a few other people who can respect them and enjoy them, and I want to know and share their dreams and fantasies too. That’s enough.

This is not a true statement, all other things are NOT equal and these are the things that contribute to gender stereotypes.

Thank you for your comments and the compliment 🙂

First, it seems that my reference to all other things being equal might not have conveyed the message I intended.

It is possible that a given man has social traits that will give him greater odds of success to attract the attention of a woman he is interested to meet in comparison to a given woman who does not have the same social finesse. When I say all other things equal, I mean that the only variable I am changing is the sex of the person approaching one of the opposite sex and, for sake of focus on the effects of this variable, I am assuming a scenario where all other things or variables (social skills, social attractiveness of the person approaching and the person approached, ratios, environment–whether it’s a bar, social party, company party) are equal. If I were to conduct an experiment and have a man and a woman approach a number of persons each of the opposite sex with the variables controlled as described above, I expect that the woman would have a greater rate of success in finding a receptive subject. It is this message I intended to convey.

You are presuming that both genders seek the same thing…

I did briefly ponder this point at the time of my last post; do women really have an advantage if one defines what a given woman seeks (there are women who seek a brief encounter) to be a long-term relationship? I still give the edge to women.

Finding a long-term partner is not easy for either sex. However, if a woman is likely to have a greater success rate of finding a receptive response upon approaching a stranger of the opposite sex in whom she has interest, these greater odds help rather than hurt her purpose whether this purpose is to seek a brief encounter or a long-term relationship.

To take a step back and put in perspective this discussion, I don’t suggest this advantage, to the extent it exists, amounts to absolute superiority or that women have everything easy. These comments came as a result of providing elaboration on one point of the discussion. In practice, I think each sex has advantages and challenges in comparison to the other with respect to different matters.

we are seeking the freedom to express ourselves as ourselves openly. Something we actually never HAVE been able to due to the need to survive when we were lower on the evolution scale.

I am seeing you say that for most women the question of achieving power translates to self-empowerment, especially because this type of power has been lacking in times past, whereas for most men the question of achieving power translates to achieving power over others. Yes?

If you don’t mind elaborating, I would be interested to hear _your_ perspective about specific ways in which self-expression was hindered.

Men are seeking sexual quantity in the dominant position and complete lack of control sexually in a submissive one in a BDSM context from what I can see. In an overall context, they are seeking a cause to become empowered by aligning with the winning side!

I sense there are some good thoughts here but I am not sure I fully grasp them. It seems you are saying that in the BDSM context dominant men seek sexual quantity (what do you mean by sexual quantity? Multiple partners?) and submissive men seek complete lack of control sexually (that the desire to not have control is driven by sexual desire?). I am not sure what you mean by seeking a cause (is the cause of sex?) to become empowered (how so?) with the winning side (what is the winning side?). If you don’t mind elaborating, I would appreciate it.

As for equality, I do wish to be seen as an equal partner at a fundamental level. I do not see myself as inferior.

Generalizing…

Women seek love, security, and affirmation they are worthy of it and USE sex to express and gain that because sex itself is not the goal. Sel empowerment is.

Men from a patriarchal position seek sexual satisfaction and reproduction to satisfy their base instincts,to get what they seek they offer love, security and affirmation to a woman and control her environmentally to insure their genes are passed on… They already have self empowerment now they want MORE power through others.

Woman seek self power because we already know we are the weaker physically so physical power is not possible to be superior at in general. We already know true superiority is not based in who is physically stronger, because we have been controlling men from the weaker position for generations. We already know we have the children because men don’t have the endurance for it, we already know that manipulation is our strength because we have had to use our weakness’s as strengths in the past to survive.

Men see power in terms of math, greater physical strength, larger groups are seen as more powerful, the majority wins type thing, power to them means you control others and the more you control the MORE powerful you are. A physically weak man will seek other weak men and band together to make a stronger force, a phsically weak woman finds a strong man and uses him as her protector. A physically strong man seeks other forms of power through controlling other people or groups, harems, countries and armies for example.

Now that women are becoming more socially powerful because strength is no longer of great importance… men are seeking either many “perceived” weak women or one powerful woman who has many weak men… to show their power by aligning with other perceived powers around them. They are already coming form a perceived power position and are seeking more power, women are coming from a powerless position and seeking power for themselves because they do NOT have it as of yet.

Men have historically been in control when it comes to sex, now they no longer need to be and often find it a relief to not be incontrol about sex, hence the stereotypical “once you are a married man forget about sex”, they are aroused by the very denial of sex, because it is something they see other men constantly seeking with women even if it’s only to the depth of their penis. Submissive men I feel seek more than 8 inches of depth and an orgasm when they want it. Dominant men seem to seek sex quantity and sex in the way they wish it combined WITH power over another, and they are willing to give love, security and affirmation to give it. Dominant women seek self empowerment by creating their own love, security and affirmation by controlling the sex or lack of it through a man. We no longer need to reproduce to bind a man to us, we no longer need to “put out” to snag a man.

Arrgh I am not sure I am making sense here…

Self-expression has been hindered for women by men who kept them barefoot and pregnant in exchange for love security and affirmation they were AS worthy as men. this is metaphorical and I hope you can see the tone of what I am trying to convey here.

And as Wicked says men approach the equality of the sexes from the position of just being a man because they assume they are superior because they live in a patriarchal society that has conditioned them to gender behaviors since the moment their gender is known.

A Dominant man does not necessarily want multiple partners he wants multiple sexual encounters in the way he wishes to have it, he sees himself as powerful when he can order a woman to sexually satisfy him at the drop of a hat, he feels powerful when he gets a blowjob and she gets only the satisfaction of serving her man… He gets off on that feeling of choking with his cock and though she struggles she accepts that choking without biting the flesh that is hurting her. It isn’t really about her wetness or his hard cock at the same act, its about his sexual power in it.

For those offended I am generalizing here I do not believe all dominant women/men are like this or all submissive women/men are so please don’t presume such.*
I believe that if people are treated equally they will BECOME equals, I do not believe that everyone is equal to each other automatically.

I believe that everyone should be treated as equal not that everyone is equal.

Female Dominant pegging erotica

Posted on 09/03/2019 by pseudonymous

She kisses him deeply, moaning softly into his mouth, tongue searching and probing, hands roaming over his body.

“Tell me what you want….” she breathes, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor.

Looking for kinky and agressive mistress near ?
“You Ma’am” is his hurried reply. “This. Your hands, your mouth, your cock.”

“Ahh…” she snickers, running her hand over the silicone protruding from her leather harness. “This, this is what you want huh?”

Bashfully he drops his head lightly into her shoulder, nodding.

“Well,” she begins, lightening the mood a little “I can’t exactly fuck you with your jeans on now can I?” And drags her nails gently down his sides, lingering over the v cut in his abs, resting at the waistband of his jeans.

His hands alight on the buttons, quickly tugging them open, shimmying the jeans over his hips and onto the floor. Before he can get to the boxer briefs, she reaches her right hand down, cupping his cock and balls, tugging and squeezing gently. His head falls backward, a soft moan escaping his lips.

“Mmmnn…thank you, Ma’am”

She smiles “Nice…you’re welcome. Now lemme have these, they’re concealing what I really want.”

Off they go, followed quickly by her shirt and bra. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she steps forward and pulls herself into him, their bare chests meeting. The energy between them sparks, and his eyes open and meet her gaze. She smiles again, as he remembers that he too has hands, and starts them roaming across her body.

“That’s it…good man. Your hands feel so good.”

You can feel my strapon

She closes her eyes and lets his hands move across her body, into her hair, and over her scalp, kneading her shoulders and down to the small of her back. She can feel his cock growing, pressing into her belly as he writhes gently against her. His powerful hands kneading her ass cheeks bring a soft moan to her lips. He bends down to kiss her neck, nuzzling into her shoulder, grazing her skin with his teeth. Nudging him gently, she breaks the contact and turns, grinding her ass into him and resting her head on his chest. He takes the cue, and his hands begin on her front, down her neck to cup her breasts, lightly teasing and tugging her nipples, and gripping and pulling firmly on her breasts. His hands slide down her sides and the tops of her legs, and she feels him hesitate at the harness and attached cock.

“Feel that do ya?” she whispers, “That’s what will soon be buried deep in your ass. That is what you want isn’t it?”

His breath catches, and she feels his cock twitch against her lower back. “Mmhmn.”

“Not going to cut it hun, tell me. Tell me what you want.”

“Please Ma’am. Please work your cock deep inside me. Please fill me.”

With that, she turns again and pushes him gently towards the bed. He backs up until it presses against the back of his legs, and looks down to her, unsure. Their height difference is amusing to her, despite her 4-inch heeled boots, and she smiles, running her fingers over his muscled chest, pausing to nibble on his erect nipples. A quick gasp from him, and he’s off balance just long enough for her to shove him forcefully back onto the bed. Startled, he lets out a quick squeak.

Giggling “….you’re ok…for now” crawling over his body as she joins him on the bed. “Up you go, all the way onto the bed for the moment.”

He does as requested, and she begins to explore him in earnest. Tongue, teeth, and hands all busy for a bit as she teases and torments him into full excitement. He thickens and rises with the attention to his body, but she’s careful to avoid any direct contact with his throbbing cock. Finally, she reaches down, searching for the end of the njoy he should have settled into his ass more than an hour ago. Finding the elliptical handle, she tugs gently.

“Ahh yes…I almost forgot this was here! You were so good to follow my instructions.” She smiles up at him, gently tugging the first half inch or so out of his ass. He squirms and moans softly under her touch. She stretches up and over him to the nightstand, retrieving the lube and dripping a little onto her fingers, re-lubricating the plug as she continues to play with the toy in his ass.

Licking her other hand, she begins to gently stroke his throbbing cock, careful to keep her touch light as she works the toy in and out of his ass.

“Mmnnn…thank you Ma’am, that feels so good.”

Once the toy is gliding in and out of his ass with ease, she removes it completely and sets it on the nearby towel on the bed.

“What do you think handsome….what next?” She says with a wicked smile.

His eyes flutter open “Ma’am, please. Please enter me. I need your cock in my ass.”

“Well handsome, since you asked so very nicely….” She purrs as she moves her hand from his cock to lube her own. Squirting lube into her hand, she strokes her cock firmly, working it over the entire surface, before telling him “I’m feeling nice tonight. Where we start may not be where we finish, but where do you want to be right now? Where do you want that cute, tight ass of yours to be when it meets my cock for the first time tonight?”

He bites his lip and closes his eyes, the decision making process evident on his face. “On my chest please?” is his reply.

“I don’t think your ass will be able to meet your chest hun…but I hear you. Very well then. Back up here and present your ass to me.”

She slides down and off the bed, her feet back onto the floor. He scoots down to meet her and flips over, tucking his knees beneath him, his ass arched up into the air.

“Yes. Damn you’re gorgeous” she exclaims, running her well-lubricated hand from the head of his cock all the way down the shaft, over his balls, and onto his tight puckered ass. He moans softly into the mattress and presses back into her as she dips one finger, then two, into his ass, swirling them around gently. Satisfied that he is well prepared, she leaves one hand on his lower back and tightens the harness strap on one hip, switching to do the same on the other side, never breaking contact with his skin.

Come on baby, bring your ass to my dildo

Knowing what’s coming, he squirms under her hand, anxiously anticipating the pleasure to come.

She chuckles “Eager tonight aren’t you?” and steadies the head of her cock, resting it against the entrance to his ass. “Is this…this what you want?” She teases.

“Yes please Ma’am…please…” his voice fades away into a soft gasp as she sinks the head of her cock into his ass, pausing to let his body become accustomed to the intrusion. Once the head is seated firmly inside him, she coats her hand in a little of her own saliva and leans forward to his cock. Rocking her hips forward, she presses a little more of her cock into his ass as she wraps her hand around his cock. His moans are all the encouragement she needs, and she begins to slowly work more and more of her cock into his ass as she strokes his cock in her hand. Eventually, her hips meet his ass, her cock buried fully.

“Yum. That’s it. Goodman. Take it all.” She murmurs into his ear.

Slowly rocking her hips, she begins long, full strokes in and out of his tight ass. Letting her hand fall away from his cock, she grips his hips in her hands to help her thrust. His lower back drops towards the bed as he relaxes, any discomfort fading away to pleasure as she fucks his ass. This continues for a bit until she hears his muffled moan.

“More. More please….”

“Fine.” She barks. “Turn over. Now.”

He complies and quickly looks up at her, a little stunned.

She snatches his legs between her arms, spreading her legs a little wider to keep her balance in the heels. Trapping his legs, she pushes her cock inside him again and increases the strength and speed of her thrusts, the head the only thing that remains inside him with the start of each stroke. He squirms and arches under her, lifting his hips in time with the end of her thrust.

“Thank you Ma’am….thank you for filling my ass..” he breathes between thrusts.

She reaches one arm around both his legs, balancing to maintain a little slower rhythm as she uses the other to work his cock back to throbbing strength. His head begins to toss left and right across the bed, occasionally lifting and falling with an audible soft thump, the pleasure building.

“Mmnn..yes. It feels so good grinding my hips into your tight ass.” She leans back up, releasing his legs to rest against her body and stretching her own back slightly. “I wanna watch my cock disappear deep into your ass. Look at me. That’s it. See that? See that cock sink into your ass?”

He begins lifting and pushing his hips into her, increasing the force of each of her thrusts.

“Yes.” she breathes, leaning forward again, pushing his legs back and kneading his balls with her left hand. “That’s mine. My ass to use as I please. Use those abs and fuck me back. Shove that cock deeper into your ass.”

His breathing becomes ragged as he struggles to maintain his pace thrusting back into her. She leans forward more, changing the stroke a bit to press up onto his prostate with each thrust. Stretching as far forward as she can, she snatches his nipple between her teeth, sucking and nibbling as she continues pounding into him. His moans are almost constant now, and she can feel his throbbing cock pressing against her belly, slick with pre-cum.

Pushing his ankles back to his shoulders she uses full strokes of her hips, her cock driving as deep and fast into him as she can manage.

Panting…”Ma’am…please..I can’t…I won’t last..”

“That’s it, such a good man. Open your eyes and watch me pound your ass as you cum.” She reaches a hand down to firmly grip and stroke his cock as she thrusts. “Fill my hand with your cum. NOW!”

The first stream of his hot cum into her hand drags an almost scream from his lips, his lower back arching off the bed into her hips.

“Good!” she exclaims “All of it. Gimme!” and uses three long, heavy strokes to force the last of his cum from his tightly lifted balls.

He whimpers, eyes slammed shut, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and her hand overflows, spilling onto his abdomen. She swaps to use her other hand to continue lightly stroking his cock. Grinning, reaches for the nearby towel, drying her hand enough to do what comes next.

She rests, still buried deep inside him but without moving, still feeling his ass contract around the dildo, his cock pulsing intermittently against her hand. Using the mostly dry hand, she pops the side of the harness loose and slowly eases out of his ass, gently lowering his legs at the same time. As his legs come down he squirms back up onto the bed, flushed and panting, coated in a light sheen of sweat. She drops the harness and dildo on the floor, crawling partially up onto the bed. Sucking his half limp cock into her mouth drags a yelp from him as she pulls the last of his cum from him with her lips. Her hands knead and caress his body as she uses her tongue to clean the majority of the cum off his skin. Crawling the rest of the way up onto the bed she scoots her body against his as she strips off her boots and the remainder of her own clothes.

Pressing her body into his, she reaches for the nightstand again, this time for water. “Drink.” is her simple command, as she tips the sports bottle onto his lips. His shaky hand takes the bottle from her as he sucks it down in large gulps.

Letting out a breath after swallowing, his eyes slowly open and meet her gaze as he returns the water.

“You Ma’am, are amazing. Thank you, so much.” as a grin spreads across his face.

“You’re very welcome” she grabs his free hand after taking a drink herself, dragging it between her legs. “It wasn’t torture for me either you see….”

Kinky playmates in
A grin spreads across his face. “If I may have a moment first, but I would love to repay at least partially in kind Ma’am”

She smirks and replies “That you will, but for now, you bask my handsome one.”

She waited. He was late [female domination]

Posted on 07/10/2018 by pseudonymous

When he finally came in the room, he immediately hit his knees and with downcast eyes asked “Ma’am, may I come in?”
“You may.” She used her sternest voice to show her displeasure. “I do not like to be kept waiting.”
He started to rise, and she merely shook her head. “Crawl”.
Slowly, he crawled over to her. She opened her legs and he crawled between her milky thighs. She handed him the cuffs. She didn’t need to give any instruction. He cuffed his hands behind his back.
“Nose.” He put his nose up to her bare smooth pussy, touching her soft skin. He could smell her pussy. If you could smell wet, that was the aroma. She reached down and opened her lips. “Nose.”
He scooted a little closer so that his nose was buried in her pussy. “And stay”.
His punishment was to sit this close to her pussy, with his nose surrounded by her wetness and scent, but he would not be allowed to touch or taste her until he was forgiven. This he could do.
He felt the head gear when she slipped it passed his nose and buckled it behind his head. Fuck, she was really irritated. The piece was a facial dildo. This particular one had a strap attached that could be used to manipulate his head. The dildo part was on his chin, actually leaving his mouth free. She pulled her feet up to the couch, spreading her legs wider. She took the tip of the dildo and slid it up and down just on the inside of her pussy. His head moved up and down with it. Her juices surrounded his nose. Slowly she pulled his head forward, using the strap so that he was forced to push the dildo into her. Her hips tilted to take it deeper. “Open”. He opened his eyes to look at her. She was going to make him watch. Slowly she worked the dildo or rather his head, back and forth, meeting each thrust with her hips. Her eyes met his. She smiled and laughed at his misery. She reached down and stroked her clit. Dipped her fingers in her wet pussy. Then made him watch as she sucked her fingers dry. Still she guided the dildo using his face to do it. “Get up and lay on your back”. She removed the cuffs and in their place put a leather bracelet attached to a chain with a ring on the end. As she knelt on the bed, she put a foot through each ring and slid her leg through to her thigh. Effectively cuffing her straddled hips to his face. Or in this case, the damned fake dildo. She mounted it once again, but this time, she faced away from him. She leaned forward, and all he could see was her sweet pussy, filled with dildo. Up and down she moved, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure he watching. She smiled and blew him a kiss. It was a smile of evil intention. She started to move faster, arching her back, fucking that dildo. She moaned and he knew more punishment. She was cumming. Her pussy juice flowed out of her, and down to seep into his mouth. He licked his lips, slurping in her melted honey. He had forgotten he was being punished. She immediately stopped moving. The look she gave him told him he was in even more trouble now. She placed a finger in front of her mouth in the symbol of “ssshhhh”. She turned back, bent down and swiftly sucked his hard ass cock into her mouth. Her hand reached over and grabbed his balls and squeezed them just hard enough. She edged her finger along the strip of skin behind his balls. Continuing to move her mouth over his, slash that, her cock. She paused for just a moment at the tip of his cock. She let the wetness in her mouth dribble over it. Her tongue swirled the tip and dipped into the hole at the top.
Fucking fuck! He thought. Her pussy started to move on the dildo again, matching the rhythm of her mouth. She wasn’t being gentle either. She was tugging his cock this way and that, scraping her teeth along the hard length of him. All the while grinding her pussy down onto his face. She squeezed the base of his cock with one hand. With the other, she slid a wet finger slowly into his asshole, sliding in and out a few times before she found the little almond shaped jewel she was looking for. She stroked it a few times. He fucking moaned. Dammit! And she stopped. Just froze. finger in mid stroke, pussy in mid fuck, dick in mid air. Just fucking froze. “Count”. This meant he had to count to 15 before she would even start again. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15. She started moving everything again, thank fucking goodness. His dick was so hard, and he wanted to fuck her so much. And she knew it. Her mouth surrounded his cock, sucking on it like a nursing baby. Pulling on it, nibbling on it like a snack. He watched as her pussy engulfed the dildo over and over and over. She tightened her body. “I’m going to cum”. And she did, again. FUCK! he thought. And she just kept fucking, and sucking, and stroking. Fucking. Sucking. And stroking. He felt her release the head piece. “Eat me”. Thank God. He enthusiastically started licking her pussy. When his tongue went inside her, she moaned and pushed her pussy full on his face. There was nothing in his world but her pussy, her mouth and that finger in his ass. He didn’t know if he could hold on. She came again, against his tongue. This time she was grinding down on his chin. She was sucking his cock like there might be a prize in it. Up and down, in and out. His dick hurt. He wanted to fuck. His ass wanted to cum. But she knew his body and she played it right to the edge. She tasted his pre-cum. He couldn’t hold that back. “Mmmmm”, delicious”. She had a minute or two more and she took every advantage of it. She focused solely on fucking his ass. His dick was ramrod straight against her face, her pussy still on the dildo, yet not moving. She stroked and she stroked. Putting pressure in just the right places. Not to hard, but so fucking fast. In, out, in…fuck…fuck…fuck…she stops. And laughs. And stands and turns, removing the rings from her legs. Freeing him, but not really. She climbs atop him, mounts him. Slides her fucking wet ass pussy down on his throbbing cock. Fuck, he was going to lose it. She reached up and cuddled her breasts in her hands. Her nipples hardening with the attention. And she fucked him. Hard. And harder. Fuck! She was so tight. Sooo hot. Felt so fucking….she was cumming. Her pussy pooled with wetness. He felt her body tighten around him. Her nailed dug into his chest. She threw her head back and screamed as she pushed down hard. And again. Her body shook and shuddered. And her hips thrust with small involuntary movements.

Fuuuuuuck….and she stood. And took the rings attached to the leather bracelets and placed them on the hooks attached to the wall. She walked over and bent down. Gently kissing him, she whispered in his ear “Don’t ever make me fucking wait again”.