My submissive told you that I might post while she was away on vacation but I have been out of town most of this time and therefore had no time to post but I have decided to write one post before she comes back home. I hope this post will give you a small window into the mind of sin's Dom. Yes, I do feel like I know many of you just from reading your blogs and your comments to My sin here. She has told you many times but she does completely enjoy your responses and feedback (so do I) – sometimes validating her feelings and other times presenting another point of view. I also think you know Me a bit too from reading here, as sin usually presents a very clear picture of Our D/s relationship, her submission and My Dominance of her.
I think I will take the last post that she wrote about her “running shoes” and try to relate that to you from her Sadist's mind. The whole play session lasted throughout most of a day, morning and afternoon and the running shoes part was only a short, but very intense, part of that day in the afternoon. As most of you know, we haven't had a lot of private time lately so when we do get some, I want to drink lots of her and design Our sessions accordingly. This day was no exception. This whole D/s play session was very hot for Me. It was very D/s, a full meal for this Sadist, and chocked full of hot sex – all mixed together into a tasty treat (for sin too as it turned out – despite the fear she exhibited during the running shoes drop).
I rigged a rope over her top bed rail – a bed designed perfect for bondage I might add – with a C clamp on either end of the rope. Even as we were rigging the rope and clamps, I was excited to watch her reaction. She was focused on the task at hand but her mind was spinning with possibilities. I love her mind and how she thinks and reacts with things like this. I know because I made her tell Me what she was thinking, all through this session. Her nipples were already prepared from earlier play with the same rope setup and different weighted hangars. The morning play was so thrilling to Me as I watched her pretty breasts straighten out with a little bit of weight, then point more upwards and eventually being stretched, both nipples and tits as more weight was slowly added.
Then after lunch, I told her I was ready to begin again and this time wanted her running shoes tied together. She had already figured out the Sadist game and theme for this day now and I could see the excitement and the dread, both shown across her face. I made her report both to Me and at the end of that report, she paused and said “Master?” and then decided to pass trying to talk Me out of this one. She is such a good girl and so pleasing to her Dom. So one hook was then hooked to the middle of her clover clamp chain and the other held her running shoes BUT the shoes were laying in her hands that were placed palms up in front of her. Therefore, the weight of the shoes were being only felt on the palms of her hands at this point. The shoes almost appeared as an offering to this Sadist at this point but I'm sure sin was having very different thoughts.
I made her take very small steps backward with the heavy shoes on the palms of her hands as the rope became taunt and started to lift the chain of the clover clamps. I didn't completely taunt the chain this time as was the case with the hangars earlier because when I ordered her to drop the shoes from her palms, I wanted a jolt of pain this time rather than a slow steady increase. After I got her in place, the rope tight, the chain barely lifted, I just made her stand there for awhile, holding the shoes. I was so hot as I listened to her breathing become very heavy and little whimpers seep from her mouth. I could tell this was a time where she was panicked and at one point she again said “Master??” with more urgency this time. I said “Yes, My lil pain slut?” and I think she said “Sir, please don't” in a very faint little voice. I didn't even respond even though I think she felt she had to try even though she was pretty sure her pleas would not be honored this time.
If you are wondering how I felt at this point, I was totally into the scene (as I always am when I'm dealing with pain), my face about 5 inches from the screen, My cock as hard as a rock and I was touching it, rubbing it, stroking it, and My heart rate was up as well. The power I was feeling was huge at this point, as I watched her excitement and terror mixed together. Her mind and her naked body were totally Mine and we both knew it. Also, the adoration I had for this little subgirl was immense. I knew she would obey when I gave her the direction to drop her shoes.
After listening to her breathe, watching her hands begin to tremble, I eventually said “drop the shoes, slut”. Much to My surprise she hesitated and I again in a much louder voice repeated the same direction. Without hesitation this time, her hands went behind her back and the full weight of the shoes dropped. My eyes were fully focused on her tits as they snapped upward as the rope and chain jerked taunt. She screamed as the full weight of the running shoes, pulled her tits and little sore nipples upward. I thought for a minute it was going to lift her off her feet momentarily but of course, it didn't.
I did not leave her in this painful position more than a minute and a half but while she was there, I was licking every salty tear from her cheeks as they fell, totally soaking up the power, the submission, the sex, her, and Us. Then I let her walk toward her bed and lift the shoes, taking the weight off the rope. I soon removed the clamps one by one. As she has told you many times, the removal of the clamps are like dessert for Me after a great meal. She was completely exhausted from the intense pain session already and as I removed each clamp and the shot of pain went through each nipple respectively, I thought she would collapse – she didn't but I laid her out on bed quickly, on her back so I could see her sore, crushed extended nipples – the residual of this great session.
Then I loved her. She wanted and needed it and so did I. I eventually made her cum again but that one was for Me. She was so exhausted, she didn't even want or need that cum. However, I did – an after dinner drink.
Most of this may sound redundant to what sin wrote but hopefully from a little different perspective- the Top. This is provided by a Sadist that didn't even want to admit He was a Sadist, several years ago. I thank My subgirl for opening the closet door with that one. I tell her often but I want to say it here to you as well – she truly is the best. I love you, My submissive and welcome home.
You did bring your running shoes back home, didn't you?
Master of sin
carpe diem
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Running Shoes
It wasn't the first thing he did to me that day. I was tired by the time that it came. I thought that probably the worst was over. He had spent the morning hurting me and making me cum, humiliating me, and watching me submit to him. And drinking it up.
He rigged this primitive pulley over the top rail of my bed (Big Bad Engineer!). On each end of the rope pulley was a C clamp which easily snapped open and closed so that they could attach to things.
He had me put the clover clamps back on and I know I whimpered as they went on. They hurt. A lot. They'd been on a couple of times already and there had been lots of pulling on them already.
He clipped one clamp around the chain between the clover clamps. He had hung various things from it in the earlier session, each time getting heavier and heavier.
He'd had me pack up from the bed so that I could raise things using his pulley and he could watch the clamps stretch my nipples and tits.
The tortures were slow, painful incremental.
This time that wasn't the game.
He had me take my running shoes (Real running shoes, that I really run with, not light weight tennis shoes), tie them together and hang them on the other weight. He told me to hold my hand under them. Then he had me back up a step, taking the shoes with me.
As soon as he said "pick up the shoes," I was starting to worry, to panic, to marshall arguments about why not, to object, to resist. And I don't think I said any of that out loud.
He told me to take my hand away, the shoes would have dropped and swung and jerked my nipples with how much weight? I don't even know. The weight of a pair of pretty solid running shoes. I was shocked and I panicked. I cried something like "Oh Master, please don't make me," and he growled "Take your hand away and let them drop! Now!"
And I did, screaming. And lived. And stood there sobbing while he admired his handiwork. He didn't leave me there long. Was it just a test to see if I'd do it?
He had me take them off, then jeez, I don't know. Maybe he made me cum again? It's kind of a blur.
Fucking sadist. If he asks about running shoes, be very afraid.
He rigged this primitive pulley over the top rail of my bed (Big Bad Engineer!). On each end of the rope pulley was a C clamp which easily snapped open and closed so that they could attach to things.
He had me put the clover clamps back on and I know I whimpered as they went on. They hurt. A lot. They'd been on a couple of times already and there had been lots of pulling on them already.
He clipped one clamp around the chain between the clover clamps. He had hung various things from it in the earlier session, each time getting heavier and heavier.
He'd had me pack up from the bed so that I could raise things using his pulley and he could watch the clamps stretch my nipples and tits.
The tortures were slow, painful incremental.
This time that wasn't the game.
He had me take my running shoes (Real running shoes, that I really run with, not light weight tennis shoes), tie them together and hang them on the other weight. He told me to hold my hand under them. Then he had me back up a step, taking the shoes with me.
As soon as he said "pick up the shoes," I was starting to worry, to panic, to marshall arguments about why not, to object, to resist. And I don't think I said any of that out loud.
He told me to take my hand away, the shoes would have dropped and swung and jerked my nipples with how much weight? I don't even know. The weight of a pair of pretty solid running shoes. I was shocked and I panicked. I cried something like "Oh Master, please don't make me," and he growled "Take your hand away and let them drop! Now!"
And I did, screaming. And lived. And stood there sobbing while he admired his handiwork. He didn't leave me there long. Was it just a test to see if I'd do it?
He had me take them off, then jeez, I don't know. Maybe he made me cum again? It's kind of a blur.
Fucking sadist. If he asks about running shoes, be very afraid.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
My List
He gave me a list to assemble for our day:
- rope, at least 12 feet, 20 feet better
- C clamps - at least 1, preferably 2
- clover clamps
- my black vibe
- a big bowl of water
- a mask
- 4 tops on hangers
- running shoes
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Math Lesson
One of my friends sent me a message yesterday. She needed help. Did I know, and could I possibly tell her the Roman Numeral for 9?
Um. Yes. IX.
I wondered if she was serious. How can you not know that? Sorry Sweetie, but I couldn't resist.
I get that people have fear of math. Lots of people. I work with a woman who is smart, hardworking, thoughtful, intellectual, well read, earnest and does tons of things to make my life easier. She's my work wife. And she can't do simple math. She can't do restaurant math. She can't figure out whether the bill is correct or calculate a tip. I suppose it's good that she needs me for something, cause she makes my life run so much more smoothly, that it's nice that I can do something in return. And of course almost as often as she asks me for math help I do tease her about fear of math. Or fear of science, which is closely related to fear of math.
Long tangent (that's a math word too!). Back to Roman Numerals? Which I guess never really seemed like math to me. Not real math. Or is it that they aren't math that builds on other math. It's just kind of there all by itself. Self contained. So, let's talk Roman Numerals.
Roman Numerals are based on the numeric system of ancient Rome. Shoot up your hand if you remember this stuff.
They use some letters of the alphabet in kind of a complicated system. It's decimal, or base 10, but not directly positional, and doesn't include a zero. Still with me? Decimal means 10. It means that every time you get to a 10 you start over, same as we do. And no zero, which makes some kinds of math complicated. And no negative numbers. So I guess you couldn't owe people money?
Roman numerals are often used in clock faces, pages preceding the main body of a book, dated notices of copyright, months of the year, successive political leaders or children with identical names, and the numbering of annual events.
Roman Numerals are based on 7 letters: I, V, X, L, C, D, M. And looking at the bullets below, I is 1, V is 5 and so on.
Now stay with me, you're gonna learn something. Come on, don't run off, you aren't going to learn anything from all those other naughty blogs. You can talk about this at lunch today. People will be impressed. And if you don't learn anything at all, then you might be a real math geek so you can feel free to write me a comment with a snarky remark and math fact that I don't know. Or see if you can get people to read math stuff on your own sex blog. Go ahead, I dare ya.
The Romans only used capital letters, but in the middle ages they also used minuscule or small letters? Why? I dunno. Cause they could I guess.
For larger numbers, 4000 and above, a bar could be placed over the number V to indicate multiplication by 1000, or it could be placed in parentheses (V). Although the Romans often just wrote out the M's. So V or (V) or MMMMM are 5000. (See? You didn't know this about the bar, did you?)
What else? To create Roman Numerals, you can think about the modern Arabic numbers and convert the thousands, hundreds, tens and ones one at a time. So the year 2011, would be MMXI for 2 thousands, no hundreds, one ten and one one. Much easier to write than something like MCMLXXXVII which would be one thousand, 9 hundreds, 8 tens and 7 ones or 1987. Lots of fun at parties, I'm telling you.
Apparently the origin of the numerals wasn't letters at all, it was tally sticks so the I's weren't really I's they were single lines on tally sticks and the V's were a connected pair of lines and the X's were crossed lines, etc.
Okay, I'm getting to the end, I said there was no zero, but medieval computists did sort of recognize the need for a zero (which apparently was essential in calculating when Easter was going to be. Ha! I bet you didn't know that! They used the concept of "nulla" meaning "none" for zero. The first example of this appeared in 525. Did you realize that there was no such thing as zero before 525? How weird is that?
So it's possible, if you really really really need a zero in Roman Numerals to use an N for nulla (as Bede or one of his colleagues did in a list of Roman Numerals written in about 725).
Okay, I'm done. Happy Easter!
Um. Yes. IX.
I wondered if she was serious. How can you not know that? Sorry Sweetie, but I couldn't resist.
I get that people have fear of math. Lots of people. I work with a woman who is smart, hardworking, thoughtful, intellectual, well read, earnest and does tons of things to make my life easier. She's my work wife. And she can't do simple math. She can't do restaurant math. She can't figure out whether the bill is correct or calculate a tip. I suppose it's good that she needs me for something, cause she makes my life run so much more smoothly, that it's nice that I can do something in return. And of course almost as often as she asks me for math help I do tease her about fear of math. Or fear of science, which is closely related to fear of math.
Long tangent (that's a math word too!). Back to Roman Numerals? Which I guess never really seemed like math to me. Not real math. Or is it that they aren't math that builds on other math. It's just kind of there all by itself. Self contained. So, let's talk Roman Numerals.
Roman Numerals are based on the numeric system of ancient Rome. Shoot up your hand if you remember this stuff.
They use some letters of the alphabet in kind of a complicated system. It's decimal, or base 10, but not directly positional, and doesn't include a zero. Still with me? Decimal means 10. It means that every time you get to a 10 you start over, same as we do. And no zero, which makes some kinds of math complicated. And no negative numbers. So I guess you couldn't owe people money?
Roman numerals are often used in clock faces, pages preceding the main body of a book, dated notices of copyright, months of the year, successive political leaders or children with identical names, and the numbering of annual events.
Roman Numerals are based on 7 letters: I, V, X, L, C, D, M. And looking at the bullets below, I is 1, V is 5 and so on.
- I 1
- V 5
- X 10
- L 50
- C 100
- D 500
- M 1000
Now stay with me, you're gonna learn something. Come on, don't run off, you aren't going to learn anything from all those other naughty blogs. You can talk about this at lunch today. People will be impressed. And if you don't learn anything at all, then you might be a real math geek so you can feel free to write me a comment with a snarky remark and math fact that I don't know. Or see if you can get people to read math stuff on your own sex blog. Go ahead, I dare ya.
The Romans only used capital letters, but in the middle ages they also used minuscule or small letters? Why? I dunno. Cause they could I guess.
For larger numbers, 4000 and above, a bar could be placed over the number V to indicate multiplication by 1000, or it could be placed in parentheses (V). Although the Romans often just wrote out the M's. So V or (V) or MMMMM are 5000. (See? You didn't know this about the bar, did you?)
What else? To create Roman Numerals, you can think about the modern Arabic numbers and convert the thousands, hundreds, tens and ones one at a time. So the year 2011, would be MMXI for 2 thousands, no hundreds, one ten and one one. Much easier to write than something like MCMLXXXVII which would be one thousand, 9 hundreds, 8 tens and 7 ones or 1987. Lots of fun at parties, I'm telling you.
Apparently the origin of the numerals wasn't letters at all, it was tally sticks so the I's weren't really I's they were single lines on tally sticks and the V's were a connected pair of lines and the X's were crossed lines, etc.
Okay, I'm getting to the end, I said there was no zero, but medieval computists did sort of recognize the need for a zero (which apparently was essential in calculating when Easter was going to be. Ha! I bet you didn't know that! They used the concept of "nulla" meaning "none" for zero. The first example of this appeared in 525. Did you realize that there was no such thing as zero before 525? How weird is that?
So it's possible, if you really really really need a zero in Roman Numerals to use an N for nulla (as Bede or one of his colleagues did in a list of Roman Numerals written in about 725).
Okay, I'm done. Happy Easter!
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Gone Fishing
I'm on vacation and will be very out of touch for most of the next week or so. I've set up a couple of posts that should post while I'm away.
I've even told Big Bad how to post something if he wants to. He says he might. I'm preparing to be amazed and delighted if he does.
I feel more relaxed already. I was so ready for vacation. Work was totally sucking.
My Dom and I... we are excellent right now. But being away from each other can bring distance and I really hope it doesn't this time because we are excellent. Oh, did I say that already?
I thought I had fixed up a companion for him while I was away. Surprised? I think he was too.
A submissive girl. Some of the variety that he loves. And I know he likes this girl. But it fell through.
So he'll need to find his own girl or girls. Or do chores. Or something. I do know that he is more than capable of finding his own girls.
I'll be back in a week or so. Tanned. Rested. Or maybe not rested.
Have fun while I'm gone.
sin
I've even told Big Bad how to post something if he wants to. He says he might. I'm preparing to be amazed and delighted if he does.
I feel more relaxed already. I was so ready for vacation. Work was totally sucking.
My Dom and I... we are excellent right now. But being away from each other can bring distance and I really hope it doesn't this time because we are excellent. Oh, did I say that already?
I thought I had fixed up a companion for him while I was away. Surprised? I think he was too.
A submissive girl. Some of the variety that he loves. And I know he likes this girl. But it fell through.
So he'll need to find his own girl or girls. Or do chores. Or something. I do know that he is more than capable of finding his own girls.
I'll be back in a week or so. Tanned. Rested. Or maybe not rested.
Have fun while I'm gone.
sin
Friday, April 22, 2011
Coincidence
Coincidences don't really happen, do they?
Thursday my Dom and I were playing. A date long planned and longed for, as we get few private days lately.
This day was special. Planned to be special from both sides.
I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted to be what he wanted. I wanted to please him.
He said to me as we started that he was going to hurt me. And I smiled, thinking of the post I had written earlier in the day. I knew he must have read it. He was speaking almost exactly to it. I had said that I loved when he told me he was hurting me on purpose, because he wanted that.
He must have said it 4 or 5 times over the course of the morning, that he was going to hurt me, that he wasn't finished hurting me. Each time it made me smile or helped me through it a bit.
After a break for lunch, (I guess he ate, I tried to regroup) he hurt me again, even harder. And again the words were the same.
And then at the end of the day there was another little break. After that break he said something to me about the blog post, that it certainly reflected our day. He thought I had written it after the day we had spent together, when really it was written before the day started. I was sure that he had read it at the beginning of the day but it turned out he had read it at the very end.
So where I thought he kept riffing on the blog post all day, and he thought that I wrote it about our day, it was really just coincidence and we both got to the same place separately.
Except that really we didn't. Cause there was one tiny mention of it the night before, almost in passing, a little reference, not a conversation but a phrase, that clearly stuck with both of us.
I'm going to hurt you slut.
Yes, Sir, I love it when you tell me that you're going to hurt me, that you want to hurt me. Thank you Sir.
Thursday my Dom and I were playing. A date long planned and longed for, as we get few private days lately.
This day was special. Planned to be special from both sides.
I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted to be what he wanted. I wanted to please him.
He said to me as we started that he was going to hurt me. And I smiled, thinking of the post I had written earlier in the day. I knew he must have read it. He was speaking almost exactly to it. I had said that I loved when he told me he was hurting me on purpose, because he wanted that.
He must have said it 4 or 5 times over the course of the morning, that he was going to hurt me, that he wasn't finished hurting me. Each time it made me smile or helped me through it a bit.
After a break for lunch, (I guess he ate, I tried to regroup) he hurt me again, even harder. And again the words were the same.
And then at the end of the day there was another little break. After that break he said something to me about the blog post, that it certainly reflected our day. He thought I had written it after the day we had spent together, when really it was written before the day started. I was sure that he had read it at the beginning of the day but it turned out he had read it at the very end.
So where I thought he kept riffing on the blog post all day, and he thought that I wrote it about our day, it was really just coincidence and we both got to the same place separately.
Except that really we didn't. Cause there was one tiny mention of it the night before, almost in passing, a little reference, not a conversation but a phrase, that clearly stuck with both of us.
I'm going to hurt you slut.
Yes, Sir, I love it when you tell me that you're going to hurt me, that you want to hurt me. Thank you Sir.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
I'm Doing It To Hurt You
I love when you tell me you want it to hurt me.
Somehow the badness of that, the darkness of it sweeps over me and overwhelms me.
When you hurt me and I whimper or moan or cry and say "Master this hurts." And you say "Of course it hurts sub, I'm doing it to hurt you."
Or "I know, I like that it hurts you."
Somehow that's so fucking hot to me. It melts me.
It makes me realize that it's purposeful, not somehow accidental that it hurts in that moment.
It makes me so aware of the sadist in you. The darkness.
And it makes me feel like I'm pleasing you. Which is huge. Which completes me.
I love hearing it. I love that you love hurting me.
Somehow the badness of that, the darkness of it sweeps over me and overwhelms me.
When you hurt me and I whimper or moan or cry and say "Master this hurts." And you say "Of course it hurts sub, I'm doing it to hurt you."
Or "I know, I like that it hurts you."
Somehow that's so fucking hot to me. It melts me.
It makes me realize that it's purposeful, not somehow accidental that it hurts in that moment.
It makes me so aware of the sadist in you. The darkness.
And it makes me feel like I'm pleasing you. Which is huge. Which completes me.
I love hearing it. I love that you love hurting me.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Chocolate Covered Crack
As you know if you read here regularly, my Big Bad Dom sometimes plays with other submissives.
They have taken to referring to him as chocolate covered crack which I love because it's so appropriate. (Maybe we should refer to him as CCC?)
He's ridiculously addictive. Layers of addictiveness.
He's fun while you are doing him (okay okay, while he's doing me). And impossible to just walk away from.
I keep coming back for more.
I knew it from the first time I met him. I knew he was different. That he was exciting and dominant and dark and scary. Oh, and exciting. He's like all the bad boys you ever wanted, in books and movies and in life. He's sexy and sexual and he cares about his submissives. He's a teacher, a mentor.
He's a sadist too. But I trust him to play safe. Because he cares about people.
And that's his appeal.
They have taken to referring to him as chocolate covered crack which I love because it's so appropriate. (Maybe we should refer to him as CCC?)
He's ridiculously addictive. Layers of addictiveness.
He's fun while you are doing him (okay okay, while he's doing me). And impossible to just walk away from.
I keep coming back for more.
I knew it from the first time I met him. I knew he was different. That he was exciting and dominant and dark and scary. Oh, and exciting. He's like all the bad boys you ever wanted, in books and movies and in life. He's sexy and sexual and he cares about his submissives. He's a teacher, a mentor.
He's a sadist too. But I trust him to play safe. Because he cares about people.
And that's his appeal.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Keywords
I love looking at my stats, at the map of where people come from, and the numbers. I always wonder about the faceless people who read here and don't leave any trace. how they get here, and where they go next.
Sometimes I can tell - if I check the keywords they searched to get here, which isn't often anymore I confess, though at the beginning I was totally fascinated. And at first I thought maybe it wasn't working properly cause I never got anything at all happening there. But I think now that it's just that no one was searching and finding me that way.
I've always used keywords on my blog. I like to be able to search other peoples blogs by keywords and so I knew that I would used them on mine, for your convenience and mine too. I'm not always consistent in how I use them, and I throw a lot of stuff in under miscellaneous but I am pretty consistent about always using something.
So recently when I checked (about a week ago) I found the following stats:
31.58% submission humiliation (12)
21.05% findingmysubmission (8)
15.79% castle realm (6)
15.79% figging and submission(6)
5.26% why does he like spanking and making me crawl during sex (2)
5.26% ponygirl submission (2)
5.26% "teach my slut" (2)
So of course I have to comment. First of all there's something screwed up about the way the numbers report here as I think it's counting each entry twice, but whatever. The percentages would still be about right.
The biggest one is "submission humiliation". Umm, that makes sense, though there hasn't been much of that lately, as he points out it's something that I like. It's certainly something HE likes. And though I squirm a bit admitting it, it is something that turns me on, so there has been a fair bit of it here.
"Finding my submission" isn't surprising as a search term. I would expect those people to wind up here. They know my name.
"Castle realm" searches, that's kind of cool actually. I like that. I'm sure those searchers probably go through my site and on to where they really wanted to be and maybe come back and browse. I feel like I'm providing a public reference service on that one and glad my research can steer people in the right direction.
I usually have searchers looking for stuff on figging. Yep, I guess this is a logical place for that. I've definitely written about it.
How about "why does he like spanking and making me crawl during sex"? Well darling, don't knock it til you've tried it. I miss those sessions. I haven't written much about that kind of thing lately because they haven't happened much lately. And I miss them a ton. Don't you?
Ponygirl submission. I get zillions (Yes Sir, I DO know that zillions isn't a real word. Of course I do) of searches for ponygirls. Really. You have to try this. Put ponygirls in your keywords or in your title just once and see what happens.
And "teach my slut". Hmm, was this someone wanting to teach his own slut something or just wanting to watch someone get taught? Was this about teaching methods or topics or about punishment? Inquiring minds want to know.
And though it's not in that list, which is from about a week ago, I looked today and found this one that makes me wonder: "task sub nipples clamps blog truck". So umm, were they wanting a blog entry on a task where the sub's nipples were clamped in a truck? Or perhaps they wanted the session with the clamps with the little plastic truck decorations. Sure. I have those. Doesn't everyone? Or maybe they wanted the photo with the clamps with the 18 pound Tonka dump truck hanging from the chain? We're always gonna wonder now, aren't we? Oh... and do you suppose they found what they were looking for here or anywhere else?
Sometimes I can tell - if I check the keywords they searched to get here, which isn't often anymore I confess, though at the beginning I was totally fascinated. And at first I thought maybe it wasn't working properly cause I never got anything at all happening there. But I think now that it's just that no one was searching and finding me that way.
I've always used keywords on my blog. I like to be able to search other peoples blogs by keywords and so I knew that I would used them on mine, for your convenience and mine too. I'm not always consistent in how I use them, and I throw a lot of stuff in under miscellaneous but I am pretty consistent about always using something.
So recently when I checked (about a week ago) I found the following stats:
31.58% submission humiliation (12)
21.05% findingmysubmission (8)
15.79% castle realm (6)
15.79% figging and submission(6)
5.26% why does he like spanking and making me crawl during sex (2)
5.26% ponygirl submission (2)
5.26% "teach my slut" (2)
So of course I have to comment. First of all there's something screwed up about the way the numbers report here as I think it's counting each entry twice, but whatever. The percentages would still be about right.
The biggest one is "submission humiliation". Umm, that makes sense, though there hasn't been much of that lately, as he points out it's something that I like. It's certainly something HE likes. And though I squirm a bit admitting it, it is something that turns me on, so there has been a fair bit of it here.
"Finding my submission" isn't surprising as a search term. I would expect those people to wind up here. They know my name.
"Castle realm" searches, that's kind of cool actually. I like that. I'm sure those searchers probably go through my site and on to where they really wanted to be and maybe come back and browse. I feel like I'm providing a public reference service on that one and glad my research can steer people in the right direction.
I usually have searchers looking for stuff on figging. Yep, I guess this is a logical place for that. I've definitely written about it.
How about "why does he like spanking and making me crawl during sex"? Well darling, don't knock it til you've tried it. I miss those sessions. I haven't written much about that kind of thing lately because they haven't happened much lately. And I miss them a ton. Don't you?
Ponygirl submission. I get zillions (Yes Sir, I DO know that zillions isn't a real word. Of course I do) of searches for ponygirls. Really. You have to try this. Put ponygirls in your keywords or in your title just once and see what happens.
And "teach my slut". Hmm, was this someone wanting to teach his own slut something or just wanting to watch someone get taught? Was this about teaching methods or topics or about punishment? Inquiring minds want to know.
And though it's not in that list, which is from about a week ago, I looked today and found this one that makes me wonder: "task sub nipples clamps blog truck". So umm, were they wanting a blog entry on a task where the sub's nipples were clamped in a truck? Or perhaps they wanted the session with the clamps with the little plastic truck decorations. Sure. I have those. Doesn't everyone? Or maybe they wanted the photo with the clamps with the 18 pound Tonka dump truck hanging from the chain? We're always gonna wonder now, aren't we? Oh... and do you suppose they found what they were looking for here or anywhere else?
Friday, April 15, 2011
Life Update
I feel like I should update y'all. That's a little bit of southern thrown in to make my southern Dom smile - I don't really say "Y'all". Canadians really don't, but I've been training.
Several of you have asked if I'm okay. I've been quiet. I haven't been posting.
For whatever reason I just don't feel much like writing blog stuff. Perhaps I've been avoiding it a bit.
I have tons of real life stuff going on.
Some bad work stuff. No I haven't been fired. But I've been facing tons of disapproval and omg that winds me up. I hate it. Big surprise there, the sub likes approval and positive strokes and gets all stressed when she gets disapproval instead.
And honestly, I think it's unearned disapproval. I think I have been awesome at work, and that I am being picked on to take attention away from other peoples shortcomings.
And my bosses are asking things of me that I have had to say no to. And guess what? I don't like saying no. But the demands simply weren't reasonable. I'd have done a terrible job in the time allotted and my team and I would all have looked bad. So I had to say no.
And I won't get fired; nothing like that. But I like to shine, and I'm not. Sigh.
At home, it's crazy. Lots of stuff going on.
Passover is coming up and for those of you in the club, you'll understand without me needing to say much more. But for those of you not in the know, I'll say that it's a big cleaning holiday. It's like spring cleaning on a deadline, and some of the cleaning carried to a ridiculous point. It's a holiday with the requirement for cleaning built in. Cleaning the kitchen, the rest of the house, the cars, the fridge, the cupboards. It's cuckoo.
And there's special food to buy, and regular food to use up and plans to make for festive dinners and... And of course my kosher is not quite kosher enough for all the people I will go to visit, so there's some compromise required there.
And there's mom stuff to do, driving and crafts, and activities and bake sales and homework and recitals and school plays, and costumes and... yeah it's busy.
And my Dom and I continue to struggle with less time and privacy than used to have. I guess this is the new normal, and perhaps we should be used to it by now. But it changes the shape of our relationship. It means that some of the really rough stuff simply doesn't happen, because there's either not enough time or enough privacy, or because there's no time for him to "aftercare me" afterward. And while we both want the darkness, neither of us wants the drama that comes with a bad session. So he says we are gonna go with D/s lite for a while.
.
So for all of you who are convinced we do darker, scarier things that you do, we probably don't. At least not recently.
Which, naturally, makes me want it darker. Why do we want what we can't have?
Several of you have asked if I'm okay. I've been quiet. I haven't been posting.
For whatever reason I just don't feel much like writing blog stuff. Perhaps I've been avoiding it a bit.
I have tons of real life stuff going on.
Some bad work stuff. No I haven't been fired. But I've been facing tons of disapproval and omg that winds me up. I hate it. Big surprise there, the sub likes approval and positive strokes and gets all stressed when she gets disapproval instead.
And honestly, I think it's unearned disapproval. I think I have been awesome at work, and that I am being picked on to take attention away from other peoples shortcomings.
And my bosses are asking things of me that I have had to say no to. And guess what? I don't like saying no. But the demands simply weren't reasonable. I'd have done a terrible job in the time allotted and my team and I would all have looked bad. So I had to say no.
And I won't get fired; nothing like that. But I like to shine, and I'm not. Sigh.
At home, it's crazy. Lots of stuff going on.
Passover is coming up and for those of you in the club, you'll understand without me needing to say much more. But for those of you not in the know, I'll say that it's a big cleaning holiday. It's like spring cleaning on a deadline, and some of the cleaning carried to a ridiculous point. It's a holiday with the requirement for cleaning built in. Cleaning the kitchen, the rest of the house, the cars, the fridge, the cupboards. It's cuckoo.
And there's special food to buy, and regular food to use up and plans to make for festive dinners and... And of course my kosher is not quite kosher enough for all the people I will go to visit, so there's some compromise required there.
And there's mom stuff to do, driving and crafts, and activities and bake sales and homework and recitals and school plays, and costumes and... yeah it's busy.
And my Dom and I continue to struggle with less time and privacy than used to have. I guess this is the new normal, and perhaps we should be used to it by now. But it changes the shape of our relationship. It means that some of the really rough stuff simply doesn't happen, because there's either not enough time or enough privacy, or because there's no time for him to "aftercare me" afterward. And while we both want the darkness, neither of us wants the drama that comes with a bad session. So he says we are gonna go with D/s lite for a while.
.
So for all of you who are convinced we do darker, scarier things that you do, we probably don't. At least not recently.
Which, naturally, makes me want it darker. Why do we want what we can't have?
Thursday, April 14, 2011
More
He makes me want it. He turns me on so fast, so hot.
So easy. A double entendre.
It's easy for him. And God I'm easy for him.
Both are true.
And so fast.
I'm so hot, so needy, so wanting and he's going slower.
I want him to use me this time. I want that, need it. I am easy, slutty, needy, my thighs spread, open, available. Please use me, touch me, let me.
I want him to hurt me too. This time I want pain. And I tell him so. I don't ask for the pain he gives me sometimes, not quite. But I say that I want it, that I want him to hurt me.
Pain to me is sex as well as connection. Power as well as emphasis. It's an aphrodisiac. An accelerator.
I want to beg, but don't have the chance.
It ends in orgasm, satisfying. And now I want more.
I always want more.
He's like a drug and I always want more.
So easy. A double entendre.
It's easy for him. And God I'm easy for him.
Both are true.
And so fast.
I'm so hot, so needy, so wanting and he's going slower.
I want him to use me this time. I want that, need it. I am easy, slutty, needy, my thighs spread, open, available. Please use me, touch me, let me.
I want him to hurt me too. This time I want pain. And I tell him so. I don't ask for the pain he gives me sometimes, not quite. But I say that I want it, that I want him to hurt me.
Pain to me is sex as well as connection. Power as well as emphasis. It's an aphrodisiac. An accelerator.
I want to beg, but don't have the chance.
It ends in orgasm, satisfying. And now I want more.
I always want more.
He's like a drug and I always want more.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Do It Rough
I'm writing this post cause he told me to. Not cause I want to. And that intro right there probably tells a lot about how I feel about the whole thing. I'm doing it not cause I want to, but cause he's telling me to.
Last night, in the blink of an eye he switched from vanilla conversation to sadist. Now you're saying "Well yeah Sin, we've seen the sadist before. We thought you liked him." I hear you.
This is different. Usually the sadist is warm, sweet, concerned. Okay it can be kind of faux but I really feel like he's on my side, my protector, my lover during lots of those sadistic encounters. I feel like he is supremely engaged and all over me.
Last night it felt very very disconnected. Jeez I don't even know if that's the right word. We've already had a debate about terminology this morning, where he says he was direct and I say stern, cold, disconnected. And I do think that's what he was going for. At first I thought he was mad about something. We've been discussing some stuff this week that has had me pushing him, challenging him (yeah that's a change) and he isn't crazy about those roles for us. He said he wasn't mad. That he just wanted obedience. Okay. I can do that, right?Just do what he says.
"Play with your nipples. No, not like that. Pinch them. Twist them. Rough. Rougher. Better."
"Now let your sex go with it. Start giving it to me."
He asks me questions, humiliating questions. He'd asked me earlier if I wanted a butt plug up my ass. The question came by text message to my phone. Totally out of context when it came, it shocked me a bit, and alarmed me. And no I didn't. Either then, when the message came, or last night when he reiterated the offer. I really didn't. Thanks.
He's pushing on me. Playing with his power. Making very very clear he's in charge. He kind of likes that I don't really want what he's doing with me. There's more power there, isn't there? Sometimes he loves making me want it, crave it. Sometimes, like last night, it's more about knowing he can do it even if I don't want it.
He considers the possibilities of two sets of clamps before deciding on the mean little tweezers. He puts them on me, right first, and then left. And then he looks at me for a while.
What was I thinking while he did it? Maybe that I didn't want it? Or was I trying to want it? Obedience and submission and wanting to want what he wants all jumbled up inside me. Pain. A little anxiety. Confusion. Lots of that.
"Play with your nipples again like you were doing before I clamped them."
"No slut, really play. Rougher I said. Pinching them. Pulling. Yes, like that."
Pain for me, playing (playing!) with my nipples. Trying to give him what he wants without tearing my nipples off. He has me pull them and they fucking hurt; THEY HAVE CLAMPS ON THEM. So I'm trying to protect myself and give him what he wants
And he's ... removed, disconnected. I have no idea what he's thinking. No idea why he's doing this. It feels not like sex, but like a lesson.
"Tell me how you feel," he says.
I want to say I hate it, but I don't. I don't say it and I don't really hate it. I don't understand it, and I'm a bit freaked by that because everything is intensified in power relationships and everything is intensified when there's pain. So my confusion and anxiety are magnified. This is not what I want, this is what he's having me do. I can do this.
I say that I feel pain. That I feel used, owned.
He makes me thank him for giving me this pain. He knows that I don't want it. Making me thank him? Mind fuck.
He asks me if I have missed it lately. I think he wants me to say yes, but I don't. The truth, which I tell him, is that I haven't missed it. Maybe at first I did, but after that my desire for it, and for sex too just kind of goes away. I don't think as much about either of them, but especially not pain.
He has me play rough with my nipples again. Twisting the nipples, the clamps.
Then he has me touch my clit. Do I want that at that point? I don't know. I'm lost, confused. I just want to know what he wants, to do what he wants. And he is probably soaking up the power in my confusion and earnest desire to please him. Or he thinks I'm being reluctant and bratty and is determined to break me. Or he's getting off on the pain and making me hurt myself for him. Who the fuck knows.
He makes me play with myself more. Touching my cunt. Turning myself on now. He calls me names. The names are a trigger for me during sex now. I want them. They turn me on. Yes he shapes me.
He gets me turned on so much, and then he tells me that if I want more of that, of my hands between my legs, I have to hurt my nipples again, twist them again, the clamps still on. But it's kind of a game, a deal. I have to do it, because he wants it. I can say no I don't want more, but he's probably going to keep on hurting me, and I do want it. Sex. And I want to please him. It's a jumble. I do as he says and twist my nipples again. Pain.
"Beautiful," he says.
And then, "Come on, twist those fucking nipples. Show me you want this."
"Now play with your cunt again."
He offers me saliva on my fingers. If I ask him, beg him for it. I pass. I want it but, god it's all such a mind fuck. I touch my cunt. I'm soaked. Swollen. Close.
"I think it's time to stop," he says.
He has me tell him again how I feel.
Pain. Sexed. Manipulated. Used. I tell him all that. Is it what he wants? I don't know.
He asks me if I want anything. I want to cum but I don't say that. I say that I want whatever he wants to give me. Why do I say it that way? A last shred of pride? Or maybe I think it's what he wants to hear. The whole thing is a mind fuck.
He persists. Says "Ask. If you want something ask me for it."
Yeah he wants to hear it, feel it. And I want it. I just don't want to ask. I hate begging, though I've learned to, and I'm past the point where I normally care, but the mood is so strange. I feel powerless. Robbed of power.
I ask to cum. I ask to touch and cum. I elaborate a little. On what and how and why.
He says "Masturbate and I'll decide while I watch you. Make yourself as desirable as possible as I watch."
I'm aware not of the sex of it, of the opportunity to please him and turn him on. I'm aware of the humiliation. Of him trying to humiliate me and make me crawl.
I focus on the sexuality of it. I do want to cum. God I want to cum. I wonder if he'll let me. Honestly I don't worry about the last order, to make myself desirable for him. He'll think I am or he won't.
He's turned on too. I can tell now.
He asks me if I want to hurt my nipples again. I say no. I think he's going to make me again anyway, he lets that possibility hang there as a threat for a while. But he doesn't.
And then he stops me. Has me take the clamps off. Omg those fucking things hurt so much coming off. And it's like taking a bandaid off, you can tear it off in one move, pain intense and immediate, or ease it off slowly, hoping it won't hurt and sometimes it doesn't but last night so much pain. Making me want to cry.
And then he says "Now play with those pretty nipples. Rough. The same way you have all night."
And I think that at least the clamps are off and it will hurt less but it doesn't. It's terrible. And I cry then, as he makes me hurt myself for him. I'm crying from pain. It feels like forever, but really it's short. But the pain was overwhelming.
And then he stops me and makes me tell him how much I love him, and how much I miss his hands on my body.
I do tell him. I say the words he demands. But what am I thinking as I say I love you? Probably about survival. And that it's almost over. Maybe I'm hoping he won't tell me not to finish myself after he goes.
But that's next.
"No more touching tonight."
And "I love you little girl."
And then he's gone.
And I'm alone. Kind of lost. Baffled and confused by the whole thing. Lacking the connection that I crave from it. Power for him. Pain for me. Sex. But no satisfaction. Sexed for the power of it.
This morning, more of the same. He asked me if I wanted to cum and told me to ask him for it if I did. So I asked. I didn't crawl, or beg, but I asked. He said no. That I didn't really seem to want it enough. I hadn't really made the case for my desire strongly.
And told me to write and post this.
Last night, in the blink of an eye he switched from vanilla conversation to sadist. Now you're saying "Well yeah Sin, we've seen the sadist before. We thought you liked him." I hear you.
This is different. Usually the sadist is warm, sweet, concerned. Okay it can be kind of faux but I really feel like he's on my side, my protector, my lover during lots of those sadistic encounters. I feel like he is supremely engaged and all over me.
Last night it felt very very disconnected. Jeez I don't even know if that's the right word. We've already had a debate about terminology this morning, where he says he was direct and I say stern, cold, disconnected. And I do think that's what he was going for. At first I thought he was mad about something. We've been discussing some stuff this week that has had me pushing him, challenging him (yeah that's a change) and he isn't crazy about those roles for us. He said he wasn't mad. That he just wanted obedience. Okay. I can do that, right?Just do what he says.
"Play with your nipples. No, not like that. Pinch them. Twist them. Rough. Rougher. Better."
"Now let your sex go with it. Start giving it to me."
He asks me questions, humiliating questions. He'd asked me earlier if I wanted a butt plug up my ass. The question came by text message to my phone. Totally out of context when it came, it shocked me a bit, and alarmed me. And no I didn't. Either then, when the message came, or last night when he reiterated the offer. I really didn't. Thanks.
He's pushing on me. Playing with his power. Making very very clear he's in charge. He kind of likes that I don't really want what he's doing with me. There's more power there, isn't there? Sometimes he loves making me want it, crave it. Sometimes, like last night, it's more about knowing he can do it even if I don't want it.
He considers the possibilities of two sets of clamps before deciding on the mean little tweezers. He puts them on me, right first, and then left. And then he looks at me for a while.
What was I thinking while he did it? Maybe that I didn't want it? Or was I trying to want it? Obedience and submission and wanting to want what he wants all jumbled up inside me. Pain. A little anxiety. Confusion. Lots of that.
"Play with your nipples again like you were doing before I clamped them."
"No slut, really play. Rougher I said. Pinching them. Pulling. Yes, like that."
Pain for me, playing (playing!) with my nipples. Trying to give him what he wants without tearing my nipples off. He has me pull them and they fucking hurt; THEY HAVE CLAMPS ON THEM. So I'm trying to protect myself and give him what he wants
And he's ... removed, disconnected. I have no idea what he's thinking. No idea why he's doing this. It feels not like sex, but like a lesson.
"Tell me how you feel," he says.
I want to say I hate it, but I don't. I don't say it and I don't really hate it. I don't understand it, and I'm a bit freaked by that because everything is intensified in power relationships and everything is intensified when there's pain. So my confusion and anxiety are magnified. This is not what I want, this is what he's having me do. I can do this.
I say that I feel pain. That I feel used, owned.
He makes me thank him for giving me this pain. He knows that I don't want it. Making me thank him? Mind fuck.
He asks me if I have missed it lately. I think he wants me to say yes, but I don't. The truth, which I tell him, is that I haven't missed it. Maybe at first I did, but after that my desire for it, and for sex too just kind of goes away. I don't think as much about either of them, but especially not pain.
He has me play rough with my nipples again. Twisting the nipples, the clamps.
Then he has me touch my clit. Do I want that at that point? I don't know. I'm lost, confused. I just want to know what he wants, to do what he wants. And he is probably soaking up the power in my confusion and earnest desire to please him. Or he thinks I'm being reluctant and bratty and is determined to break me. Or he's getting off on the pain and making me hurt myself for him. Who the fuck knows.
He makes me play with myself more. Touching my cunt. Turning myself on now. He calls me names. The names are a trigger for me during sex now. I want them. They turn me on. Yes he shapes me.
He gets me turned on so much, and then he tells me that if I want more of that, of my hands between my legs, I have to hurt my nipples again, twist them again, the clamps still on. But it's kind of a game, a deal. I have to do it, because he wants it. I can say no I don't want more, but he's probably going to keep on hurting me, and I do want it. Sex. And I want to please him. It's a jumble. I do as he says and twist my nipples again. Pain.
"Beautiful," he says.
And then, "Come on, twist those fucking nipples. Show me you want this."
"Now play with your cunt again."
He offers me saliva on my fingers. If I ask him, beg him for it. I pass. I want it but, god it's all such a mind fuck. I touch my cunt. I'm soaked. Swollen. Close.
"I think it's time to stop," he says.
He has me tell him again how I feel.
Pain. Sexed. Manipulated. Used. I tell him all that. Is it what he wants? I don't know.
He asks me if I want anything. I want to cum but I don't say that. I say that I want whatever he wants to give me. Why do I say it that way? A last shred of pride? Or maybe I think it's what he wants to hear. The whole thing is a mind fuck.
He persists. Says "Ask. If you want something ask me for it."
Yeah he wants to hear it, feel it. And I want it. I just don't want to ask. I hate begging, though I've learned to, and I'm past the point where I normally care, but the mood is so strange. I feel powerless. Robbed of power.
I ask to cum. I ask to touch and cum. I elaborate a little. On what and how and why.
He says "Masturbate and I'll decide while I watch you. Make yourself as desirable as possible as I watch."
I'm aware not of the sex of it, of the opportunity to please him and turn him on. I'm aware of the humiliation. Of him trying to humiliate me and make me crawl.
I focus on the sexuality of it. I do want to cum. God I want to cum. I wonder if he'll let me. Honestly I don't worry about the last order, to make myself desirable for him. He'll think I am or he won't.
He's turned on too. I can tell now.
He asks me if I want to hurt my nipples again. I say no. I think he's going to make me again anyway, he lets that possibility hang there as a threat for a while. But he doesn't.
And then he stops me. Has me take the clamps off. Omg those fucking things hurt so much coming off. And it's like taking a bandaid off, you can tear it off in one move, pain intense and immediate, or ease it off slowly, hoping it won't hurt and sometimes it doesn't but last night so much pain. Making me want to cry.
And then he says "Now play with those pretty nipples. Rough. The same way you have all night."
And I think that at least the clamps are off and it will hurt less but it doesn't. It's terrible. And I cry then, as he makes me hurt myself for him. I'm crying from pain. It feels like forever, but really it's short. But the pain was overwhelming.
And then he stops me and makes me tell him how much I love him, and how much I miss his hands on my body.
I do tell him. I say the words he demands. But what am I thinking as I say I love you? Probably about survival. And that it's almost over. Maybe I'm hoping he won't tell me not to finish myself after he goes.
But that's next.
"No more touching tonight."
And "I love you little girl."
And then he's gone.
And I'm alone. Kind of lost. Baffled and confused by the whole thing. Lacking the connection that I crave from it. Power for him. Pain for me. Sex. But no satisfaction. Sexed for the power of it.
This morning, more of the same. He asked me if I wanted to cum and told me to ask him for it if I did. So I asked. I didn't crawl, or beg, but I asked. He said no. That I didn't really seem to want it enough. I hadn't really made the case for my desire strongly.
And told me to write and post this.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Feminism and Submission and Us
He says that I'm a strong intelligent feminist woman and he likes that. He is proud of my successes and he loves when people are impressed by me. I think he loves that I am strong enough, enough of my own person that I'm not bullied, not steamrolled by him Cause omg he's a strong personality. (He's like a force of nature sometimes. Fighting him feels like standing in a hurricane.)
He recognizes that I submit to him and really only to him. In the rest of my life I'm pretty dominant. I manage people, projects, resources. I boss my kids, my sister, my mom, my boss some days. I'm a know-it-all extrovert who often can't resist giving advice.
And he understands the conflicts inherent in that. He's a feminist too. He does not believe that women are or should be submissive to men in general. He just wants lots of them to want to submit to him.
I say that I'm only submissive to him, and when he reads that, he'll push on it a little and tell me that I'll submit to anyone he wants me to submit to. Period. Yes Sir, true, but that's really still submitting to you, isn't it?
(And yes, if he wasn't around I would still want D/s in my sex. Anything else just seems so vanilla, doesn't it? Like once you've had this, the other is so tame. So yes, if I didn't have him I would find someone else to give some of that to. So I don't say that I have only ever submitted to him or only ever would submit to him. But right now, given that he appreciates monogamy (appreciates monogamy from me that is) I submit to only to him. That was a long tangent wasn't it? And brackets within brackets. Sorry. Crap, I hope the grammar police aren't paying attention.)
I guess it's about him accepting and appreciating (most days?) that I submit to him from desire rather than need, from a position of strength and competence rather than a position of weakness. I think some days he'd like me more dependent, needier, but really he probably doesn't have the energy or time to manage all that. all the time The more dependent the sub is, the more decisions the Dom has to make, right?
There can be different kinds of challenges in bossing someone like me I guess. He said to me this week, after I described a really rough day at the office, "I bet you're hard to manage." And then he laughed and said "Hell, I don't bet; I know it." Yeah. Sometimes I'm sure I am. I want it to make sense. I want consistency. I want integrity. And I'll call them on it if those things aren't there. So yes, pretty demanding and I'm sure I'm that demanding as a sub too. (Actually as I read that over I would say I am more demanding at the office, I don't make him explain himself to me. If it makes sense it makes sense, and if not, tough beans right?)
But he can take it. As strong as I am, I think he's stronger. I like that. Or maybe he's just more determined? Are those the same thing? And I'm glad he likes what I am. I know he has shaped me a bit over the years. He could probably put concepts and words around how he has shaped me, what changes he has made, what he wanted, where we go next. But I think the core of me is still the same. Perhaps I'm more submissive than I started out, to him, really only to him.
He recognizes that I submit to him and really only to him. In the rest of my life I'm pretty dominant. I manage people, projects, resources. I boss my kids, my sister, my mom, my boss some days. I'm a know-it-all extrovert who often can't resist giving advice.
And he understands the conflicts inherent in that. He's a feminist too. He does not believe that women are or should be submissive to men in general. He just wants lots of them to want to submit to him.
I say that I'm only submissive to him, and when he reads that, he'll push on it a little and tell me that I'll submit to anyone he wants me to submit to. Period. Yes Sir, true, but that's really still submitting to you, isn't it?
(And yes, if he wasn't around I would still want D/s in my sex. Anything else just seems so vanilla, doesn't it? Like once you've had this, the other is so tame. So yes, if I didn't have him I would find someone else to give some of that to. So I don't say that I have only ever submitted to him or only ever would submit to him. But right now, given that he appreciates monogamy (appreciates monogamy from me that is) I submit to only to him. That was a long tangent wasn't it? And brackets within brackets. Sorry. Crap, I hope the grammar police aren't paying attention.)
I guess it's about him accepting and appreciating (most days?) that I submit to him from desire rather than need, from a position of strength and competence rather than a position of weakness. I think some days he'd like me more dependent, needier, but really he probably doesn't have the energy or time to manage all that. all the time The more dependent the sub is, the more decisions the Dom has to make, right?
There can be different kinds of challenges in bossing someone like me I guess. He said to me this week, after I described a really rough day at the office, "I bet you're hard to manage." And then he laughed and said "Hell, I don't bet; I know it." Yeah. Sometimes I'm sure I am. I want it to make sense. I want consistency. I want integrity. And I'll call them on it if those things aren't there. So yes, pretty demanding and I'm sure I'm that demanding as a sub too. (Actually as I read that over I would say I am more demanding at the office, I don't make him explain himself to me. If it makes sense it makes sense, and if not, tough beans right?)
But he can take it. As strong as I am, I think he's stronger. I like that. Or maybe he's just more determined? Are those the same thing? And I'm glad he likes what I am. I know he has shaped me a bit over the years. He could probably put concepts and words around how he has shaped me, what changes he has made, what he wanted, where we go next. But I think the core of me is still the same. Perhaps I'm more submissive than I started out, to him, really only to him.
Friday, April 8, 2011
More Topping
Earlier this week I posted something on topping from the bottom. So... ya'll might think this is something I do a lot of. And that the post came about as a result of an incident.
Actually, the post was in response to a comment he made about someone else topping from the bottom. Not me. Yay. Right?
He's made comments several times about other subs doing it, but I never felt much like it applied to me. I think I was like the skinny girl (if only!) watching the fat girls diet and thinking "At least I don't need to worry about that."
In at least one case someone else told me I was topping from the bottom. I kind of dismissed it. Okay, really I was really pissed about it, but discounted it, thinking it wasn't coming from my Dom, and it was nobody else's business.
So really, earlier this week I was writing about it like that skinny girl (if only) writing diet tips.
And then that night, he made an allusion to me trying to lead. Which I took to be a reference to my post, and I think it was, but it was also a pretty clear suggestion that I was doing it. Topping from the bottom.
I said to him that he had NEVER accused me of that before. I thought we were gonna have a cosy little conversation about it, and talk about how it was the one sub sin I didn't have.
That wasn't how it went. It seems clear that he does think I do it.
But then, after dropping that on me, he not only didn't want to discuss it, he seemed to feel that I was trying to wrestle the lead from him all night.
Life is kind of sucking this week actually. Work, life, home, diet, Him. All of it. Maybe I'll go back to bed and pull the covers over my head.
Actually, the post was in response to a comment he made about someone else topping from the bottom. Not me. Yay. Right?
He's made comments several times about other subs doing it, but I never felt much like it applied to me. I think I was like the skinny girl (if only!) watching the fat girls diet and thinking "At least I don't need to worry about that."
In at least one case someone else told me I was topping from the bottom. I kind of dismissed it. Okay, really I was really pissed about it, but discounted it, thinking it wasn't coming from my Dom, and it was nobody else's business.
So really, earlier this week I was writing about it like that skinny girl (if only) writing diet tips.
And then that night, he made an allusion to me trying to lead. Which I took to be a reference to my post, and I think it was, but it was also a pretty clear suggestion that I was doing it. Topping from the bottom.
I said to him that he had NEVER accused me of that before. I thought we were gonna have a cosy little conversation about it, and talk about how it was the one sub sin I didn't have.
That wasn't how it went. It seems clear that he does think I do it.
But then, after dropping that on me, he not only didn't want to discuss it, he seemed to feel that I was trying to wrestle the lead from him all night.
Life is kind of sucking this week actually. Work, life, home, diet, Him. All of it. Maybe I'll go back to bed and pull the covers over my head.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Seven Deadly Dom Sins
You knew it was coming right?
I haven't thought lots about this but am going to give it a shot and accept input from all of you. And then tomorrow (unless something else catches my fancy) I can post revised lists of both sub sins and Dom sins.
I've really only had one Dom, and he's not perfect (sorry Sir) but lots of this list comes from thinking about what's wrong with other Doms and Dommes and their relationships. I think that lots of the traits are things that would be wrong with any person, but are magnified in a D/s relationship. Which is kind of the same with the sub traits. (Where I might, upon reflection include emotional neediness or dependency. And yes, I get that some Doms want that.)
So seven deadly Dom sins might include some of the following, in no particular order:
1. Inconsistency.
2. Dishonesty, treachery, I think infidelity would go here if it's an issue in the relationship, as it's a type of dishonesty if there is an assumption of fidelity in the relationship.
3. Meanness, cruelty.
4. Pride, arrogance, maybe selfishness is part of this?
5. Pettiness.
6. Laziness.
7. Thoughtlessness.
So what do you think? Help me out.
I haven't thought lots about this but am going to give it a shot and accept input from all of you. And then tomorrow (unless something else catches my fancy) I can post revised lists of both sub sins and Dom sins.
I've really only had one Dom, and he's not perfect (sorry Sir) but lots of this list comes from thinking about what's wrong with other Doms and Dommes and their relationships. I think that lots of the traits are things that would be wrong with any person, but are magnified in a D/s relationship. Which is kind of the same with the sub traits. (Where I might, upon reflection include emotional neediness or dependency. And yes, I get that some Doms want that.)
So seven deadly Dom sins might include some of the following, in no particular order:
1. Inconsistency.
2. Dishonesty, treachery, I think infidelity would go here if it's an issue in the relationship, as it's a type of dishonesty if there is an assumption of fidelity in the relationship.
3. Meanness, cruelty.
4. Pride, arrogance, maybe selfishness is part of this?
5. Pettiness.
6. Laziness.
7. Thoughtlessness.
So what do you think? Help me out.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Seven Deadly Sub Sins
Yesterday I made a comment about the Seven Deadly Sub Sins. And someone called me on it and asked me what the rest would be.
Ummm, you understand I'm making this up as I go right? But okay, here goes.
1. I think one would be topping from the bottom, manipulating, controlling. What would the other six be?
And I guess the Doms should answer this - but let's give it a try okay? Cause really we know when they say bad girl rather than good girl to us don't we?
So, in no particular order, with not much thought, here's my preliminary list. What do you think? What should change? And yeah, we can do the Dom list too.
2. Brattiness. Sulkiness.
3. Disobedience.
4. Unsubmissiveness - I don't know if this one is legitimate really, or is it like defining a word by using the word? I think I mean the lack of gracious submission. Resistance.
5. Untrustworthiness. Infidelity. Dishonesty.
6. Gluttony.
7. Laziness.
So what do you think? Do I have it or do I need to change them? Clump them up and add more? Define them a bit?
And do you see yourself and the things that make your Dom or Domme crazy?
Ummm, you understand I'm making this up as I go right? But okay, here goes.
1. I think one would be topping from the bottom, manipulating, controlling. What would the other six be?
And I guess the Doms should answer this - but let's give it a try okay? Cause really we know when they say bad girl rather than good girl to us don't we?
So, in no particular order, with not much thought, here's my preliminary list. What do you think? What should change? And yeah, we can do the Dom list too.
2. Brattiness. Sulkiness.
3. Disobedience.
4. Unsubmissiveness - I don't know if this one is legitimate really, or is it like defining a word by using the word? I think I mean the lack of gracious submission. Resistance.
5. Untrustworthiness. Infidelity. Dishonesty.
6. Gluttony.
7. Laziness.
So what do you think? Do I have it or do I need to change them? Clump them up and add more? Define them a bit?
And do you see yourself and the things that make your Dom or Domme crazy?
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Topping from the Bottom
I don't have much time today but I do have a question. What is topping from the bottom?
Oh I know in generalities. It's when the person on the bottom is telling the person on the top what to do.
But where's the line?
I suppose it's all in the eye of the beholder isn't it? And the line for me might not be in the same place as the line for you. So where would you draw it?
If I ask for pain or sex is that topping from the bottom?
If I tell him I'm really interested in having caramel sauce drizzled all over me, is that topping from the bottom?
If I show up in a sexy little schoolgirl outfit is that topping from the bottom?
If I tell him that I want to be spanked or how to spank me is that topping from the bottom?
If I tell him to cut it the fuck out and quit hitting me is that topping from the bottom?
So, seriously, where is the line between initiative and topping from the bottom?
And is it really one of the seven deadly sub sins?
Oh I know in generalities. It's when the person on the bottom is telling the person on the top what to do.
But where's the line?
I suppose it's all in the eye of the beholder isn't it? And the line for me might not be in the same place as the line for you. So where would you draw it?
If I ask for pain or sex is that topping from the bottom?
If I tell him I'm really interested in having caramel sauce drizzled all over me, is that topping from the bottom?
If I show up in a sexy little schoolgirl outfit is that topping from the bottom?
If I tell him that I want to be spanked or how to spank me is that topping from the bottom?
If I tell him to cut it the fuck out and quit hitting me is that topping from the bottom?
So, seriously, where is the line between initiative and topping from the bottom?
And is it really one of the seven deadly sub sins?
Monday, April 4, 2011
What's in a Name?
I don't really want to take yesterday's post down. Not because it was so great but because I loved the response. Tons of comments. Some from people who hardly ever comment. And yes it was all flattering and sweet. Which is exactly what I said I wasn't writing for. But still, it was like getting flowers unexpectedly. So thank you all.
The Daddy terminology is back in our lives and in our conversation. Do I call him Daddy when I am trying to tame him, to tone him down, to get the loving without the sadism?
At first we used it so sparingly. I was so embarrassed about using it at all. And he used that to push me. He made me call him Daddy. And I could write it but not say it. I couldn't use it in a conversation. But over time, and with use I got more comfortable. Although to be honest, much of the use was inside my head. I thought Daddy more often than I said it out loud if you get my drift.
And we've used it mostly for times when he's gentled anyway. After sex and pain. Not the Big Bad Dom times, but times when he's sweet, caring, protective. (He's gonna say that I'm ruining his street cred with that sentence)
But lately I've wanted to use it other times. Times when he's hurting me, when I know he's going to go ahead and do it where I know it's the sadist I'm facing and that any hint of trying to scale him down will be counterproductive. And the impulse is so strong then. I've mentioned it before, but not understood it, and I want to understand my impulse.
Last night it was so strong. He had me put nipple clamps on, the little tiny tweezer ones and damn those hurt. They look so sweet, so pretty and dainty, but they can hurt so much, and last night they did, and somehow what wanted to come out was "I love you Daddy, I'll do anything you want. Hurt me if you want." Which sounds so taboo. It sounds bad and wrong and incestuous and it isn't any of those things. Well, I guess it is taboo.
But I think it's just that it was something loving to call him. Something that emphasized the love, but gave the power too. Because I did want him to have that power. And I didn't want to wreck the moment by having him think I was trying to gentle him, but I wanted to say it so much. And in the past he said once that it might make him feel like I was trying to do that, and push him the other way instead. And I definitely didn't want that last night (though I do sometimes).
And so I told him that I wanted to call him Daddy. And he said use it if I liked but it wasn't going to make him stop, but that I could use it if I wanted. So... a new Daddy phase?
The Daddy terminology is back in our lives and in our conversation. Do I call him Daddy when I am trying to tame him, to tone him down, to get the loving without the sadism?
At first we used it so sparingly. I was so embarrassed about using it at all. And he used that to push me. He made me call him Daddy. And I could write it but not say it. I couldn't use it in a conversation. But over time, and with use I got more comfortable. Although to be honest, much of the use was inside my head. I thought Daddy more often than I said it out loud if you get my drift.
And we've used it mostly for times when he's gentled anyway. After sex and pain. Not the Big Bad Dom times, but times when he's sweet, caring, protective. (He's gonna say that I'm ruining his street cred with that sentence)
But lately I've wanted to use it other times. Times when he's hurting me, when I know he's going to go ahead and do it where I know it's the sadist I'm facing and that any hint of trying to scale him down will be counterproductive. And the impulse is so strong then. I've mentioned it before, but not understood it, and I want to understand my impulse.
Last night it was so strong. He had me put nipple clamps on, the little tiny tweezer ones and damn those hurt. They look so sweet, so pretty and dainty, but they can hurt so much, and last night they did, and somehow what wanted to come out was "I love you Daddy, I'll do anything you want. Hurt me if you want." Which sounds so taboo. It sounds bad and wrong and incestuous and it isn't any of those things. Well, I guess it is taboo.
But I think it's just that it was something loving to call him. Something that emphasized the love, but gave the power too. Because I did want him to have that power. And I didn't want to wreck the moment by having him think I was trying to gentle him, but I wanted to say it so much. And in the past he said once that it might make him feel like I was trying to do that, and push him the other way instead. And I definitely didn't want that last night (though I do sometimes).
And so I told him that I wanted to call him Daddy. And he said use it if I liked but it wasn't going to make him stop, but that I could use it if I wanted. So... a new Daddy phase?
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Ramblings - Thoughts on Blogging
When you read blogs ... and yeah I do know you do, cause you are here right? Reading? And presumably not just looking for pictures, cause there aren't very many here. If you are looking for pictures you might as well go now.
I guess I'm wondering about precursor forms of communication. No no, don't run off, this will get better, really. I'll put in some naughty stuff like ummm, ponygirls. Do you ever wonder what the kink is with ponygirls or ponyboys? Do you think it's the crossover between D/s and humiliation and leather? And ritually prescribed behaviours? And so the puppy fantasy which looks similar on the surface is really quite different, as it's more about humiliation and affection isn't it? Which is quite different from the piggy thing which seems to me to be just about humiliation. And a kitty fetish would be different again right?
Ooops, that was way off the path I thought I was on. Sorry. Back to blogging.
When we blog, it's writing for an audience. We might start with the premise that it's for us, and of course it is. We do write for ourselves, to write things down, to sort them out, to untangle the lines in our minds and figure out what it all means. That was the initial motivation and it's still there.
I write for the feedback too. I write it down and I want someone, whether Him or you out there to comment on it, tell me what you think of what I wrote (not "oh you write so well", but more like "I agree completely because..." or even "I think you have it totally wrong because..."). In the absence of a D/s community that I'm really a part of, I have come to love the community here.
It seems to me that blogs are like writing a serial. Day by day or week by week, more of the plot and the characters and the setting are revealed for your perusal. I always think of Charles Dickens doling things out in monthly or was it weekly serials, getting paid by the word. And gosh he was a wordy old dude, "It was the best of times; it was the worst of times...").
But they are also a bit like TV aren't they? Like soap operas or sitcoms, depending on the blog (or maybe depending on the day?).
What do you read blogs for? The personalities? The blow by blow? (See I told you there would be dirty stuff in here, just be patient).
Do you read because you like the words or the feel or the introspection or the people? Do you read because you think I am like you or because we are completely different? Do you think that I'm a freak because I like pain, and you read to try to understand that or to get off to it?
It's okay if you do, I think we all read for some combination of these things. Don't you?
Do you read for the naughty bits? Do you skim for the parts about nipple clamps and how I feel with them on or stories of the last time he humiliated me by making me wear a pony tail butt plug?
Is the appeal the occasional (very rare) porn fiction?
Do you read because you think that Big Bad is hot and you want to imagine him doing you next? Either picturing yourself as me, putting yourself into the role of the heroine or offering yourself as our latest third, or as my replacement? Go ahead, it's all fantasy right? The way we interact with our fiction. How many times have I been Scarlett O'Hara or O?
Do you like my struggles with whether I am submissive enough or do you think it's way past time I pulled it together and either got onto my knees and stayed there or got up and did the laundry?
When I read other people's blogs I read for all those things and think all those things. Of course. I read mostly for tone I think. I like stuff that makes me think, makes me laugh, not slip on the banana peel humour but the ability to see humour in life and poke fun at it. Like SFP in Jumping On In. Her ability to cut through bullshit and see the ridiculous is awesome and I love it.
I read for lessons in submission sometimes, because sometimes when I read Under Contract to My Wife there are times when Mick says something that is so perfectly submissive that it just encapsulates what I feel or what I wish I could feel. And it's golden. It speaks to me perfectly. And yet it's so not my thing in other ways, my reading list doesn't include many submissive men. But he's smart and funny and I like him.
I read for that perfect hit of sex sometimes. You would think 'Nilla in Vanillamom's Blog and you'd be right of course, (and isn't it nice that she knows me well enough to tell me when the story is long enough to get me off?). I wonder what my favourite Nilla story is. We should have a contest to pick our favourite Nilla stories don't you think? How can she write a dirty story every damn day?
But often the blend of introspection and sexual fantasy in BeingAisha's blog are a more direct hit for me, a more perfect fit to my own fantasies of exhibitionism with a touch of humiliation. Subtle, and yet not.
I read some that shock me. Subs or slaves that are light years ahead of where I am, or where I think I will ever be. Light years ahead of where I ever want to be, and yet they fascinate me.
I read some that are sad sometimes, because they are about real life, and real lives aren't always perfect. Some are trying stuff out, some trying to make relationships work, some struggling with illness, or relationships that clearly aren't working. Or aren't working now. I'm not linking to those, though I really want to link to at least one but given what I've just said about them, that seems more gossipy. Like announcing look over here for struggle with a link. And I still care about lots of those writers, because I have learned to care as they let me into their lives, sharing themselves.
Do I want to offer advice to some of those? Yep of course, I'm like that. Drop that guy, walk away, he's no good for you, can't you see what he's doing to you? It's like hollering at the TV, and yet it's not, because I can say it, can influence can't I? We all can. It's the ability to interact that makes the blog so different from other earlier forms of serials.
And I read cake blogs and cooking blogs and exercise blogs. And no I don't spend all my time reading or writing blogs. And I'm not linking there either. Not that they'd care about all the kinky readers showing up (though they might) but we aren't going there today. Oh and I have this vanilla friend who writes the world's funniest blog but sadly I'm not sending you there either. Imagine her surprise if suddenly 500 kinksters went through her blog one day. Ha. Actually, she's tapered off as she has a one year old, and that takes time.
I've gone too long, probably lost most of you, some to the links that I posted, which are great blogs. All the blogs on my sidebar are great too, if I didn't mention you don't be mad ok? I really only linked 4.
I guess I'm wondering about precursor forms of communication. No no, don't run off, this will get better, really. I'll put in some naughty stuff like ummm, ponygirls. Do you ever wonder what the kink is with ponygirls or ponyboys? Do you think it's the crossover between D/s and humiliation and leather? And ritually prescribed behaviours? And so the puppy fantasy which looks similar on the surface is really quite different, as it's more about humiliation and affection isn't it? Which is quite different from the piggy thing which seems to me to be just about humiliation. And a kitty fetish would be different again right?
Ooops, that was way off the path I thought I was on. Sorry. Back to blogging.
When we blog, it's writing for an audience. We might start with the premise that it's for us, and of course it is. We do write for ourselves, to write things down, to sort them out, to untangle the lines in our minds and figure out what it all means. That was the initial motivation and it's still there.
I write for the feedback too. I write it down and I want someone, whether Him or you out there to comment on it, tell me what you think of what I wrote (not "oh you write so well", but more like "I agree completely because..." or even "I think you have it totally wrong because..."). In the absence of a D/s community that I'm really a part of, I have come to love the community here.
It seems to me that blogs are like writing a serial. Day by day or week by week, more of the plot and the characters and the setting are revealed for your perusal. I always think of Charles Dickens doling things out in monthly or was it weekly serials, getting paid by the word. And gosh he was a wordy old dude, "It was the best of times; it was the worst of times...").
But they are also a bit like TV aren't they? Like soap operas or sitcoms, depending on the blog (or maybe depending on the day?).
What do you read blogs for? The personalities? The blow by blow? (See I told you there would be dirty stuff in here, just be patient).
Do you read because you like the words or the feel or the introspection or the people? Do you read because you think I am like you or because we are completely different? Do you think that I'm a freak because I like pain, and you read to try to understand that or to get off to it?
It's okay if you do, I think we all read for some combination of these things. Don't you?
Do you read for the naughty bits? Do you skim for the parts about nipple clamps and how I feel with them on or stories of the last time he humiliated me by making me wear a pony tail butt plug?
Is the appeal the occasional (very rare) porn fiction?
Do you read because you think that Big Bad is hot and you want to imagine him doing you next? Either picturing yourself as me, putting yourself into the role of the heroine or offering yourself as our latest third, or as my replacement? Go ahead, it's all fantasy right? The way we interact with our fiction. How many times have I been Scarlett O'Hara or O?
Do you like my struggles with whether I am submissive enough or do you think it's way past time I pulled it together and either got onto my knees and stayed there or got up and did the laundry?
When I read other people's blogs I read for all those things and think all those things. Of course. I read mostly for tone I think. I like stuff that makes me think, makes me laugh, not slip on the banana peel humour but the ability to see humour in life and poke fun at it. Like SFP in Jumping On In. Her ability to cut through bullshit and see the ridiculous is awesome and I love it.
I read for lessons in submission sometimes, because sometimes when I read Under Contract to My Wife there are times when Mick says something that is so perfectly submissive that it just encapsulates what I feel or what I wish I could feel. And it's golden. It speaks to me perfectly. And yet it's so not my thing in other ways, my reading list doesn't include many submissive men. But he's smart and funny and I like him.
I read for that perfect hit of sex sometimes. You would think 'Nilla in Vanillamom's Blog and you'd be right of course, (and isn't it nice that she knows me well enough to tell me when the story is long enough to get me off?). I wonder what my favourite Nilla story is. We should have a contest to pick our favourite Nilla stories don't you think? How can she write a dirty story every damn day?
But often the blend of introspection and sexual fantasy in BeingAisha's blog are a more direct hit for me, a more perfect fit to my own fantasies of exhibitionism with a touch of humiliation. Subtle, and yet not.
I read some that shock me. Subs or slaves that are light years ahead of where I am, or where I think I will ever be. Light years ahead of where I ever want to be, and yet they fascinate me.
I read some that are sad sometimes, because they are about real life, and real lives aren't always perfect. Some are trying stuff out, some trying to make relationships work, some struggling with illness, or relationships that clearly aren't working. Or aren't working now. I'm not linking to those, though I really want to link to at least one but given what I've just said about them, that seems more gossipy. Like announcing look over here for struggle with a link. And I still care about lots of those writers, because I have learned to care as they let me into their lives, sharing themselves.
Do I want to offer advice to some of those? Yep of course, I'm like that. Drop that guy, walk away, he's no good for you, can't you see what he's doing to you? It's like hollering at the TV, and yet it's not, because I can say it, can influence can't I? We all can. It's the ability to interact that makes the blog so different from other earlier forms of serials.
And I read cake blogs and cooking blogs and exercise blogs. And no I don't spend all my time reading or writing blogs. And I'm not linking there either. Not that they'd care about all the kinky readers showing up (though they might) but we aren't going there today. Oh and I have this vanilla friend who writes the world's funniest blog but sadly I'm not sending you there either. Imagine her surprise if suddenly 500 kinksters went through her blog one day. Ha. Actually, she's tapered off as she has a one year old, and that takes time.
I've gone too long, probably lost most of you, some to the links that I posted, which are great blogs. All the blogs on my sidebar are great too, if I didn't mention you don't be mad ok? I really only linked 4.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
One and the Same
Anonymous said... "Why do I think that sin and master of sin are one and the same?? Forgive me if I'm wrong."
I like that. It made me smile actually.
I guess you never see us at the same time, at the same event... so we could be the same. But really we aren't.
I could just be writing the occasional comment on my blog so you'd think I had a man. Kind of like in high school where we'd wonder if a girl really had a boyfriend cause we never saw him. And we always wanted boyfriend trophies to prove they existed, jacket, football t-shirts, a ring!
Master of Sin does exist and if I was making him up I'd have him comment more often. Would he say the same stuff if I was writing his comments? Probably not.
There are other things I'd change about him too. He's a Tea Partier for one thing. I'd change that. I'm a Canadian and currently trying to decide who to vote for in a federal election. But it won't be a candidate that the Tea Party would approve.
He lives too far away. I live in Canada. He lives in the southern USA. Though that does mean super sexy accent. Which I LOVE. So maybe I wouldn't really want to change that.
And if you read back at all, his hobbies are other subs. Which I'm okay with in theory, but in practice ... well if I was inventing him, I guess I'd either make him monogamous or make myself fine with it.
Actually if I was making us up, I'd have us live together. And maybe we'd get a dog. And umm, I'd be taller. And thinner. And younger. Maybe he would too. I might as well cater to some of the stuff he likes too. And.. and I'd love my job. And we'd live happily ever after.
But thanks for the comment. It made me laugh, brightened my day. And gave me a post this morning when I was feeling lazy.
I like that. It made me smile actually.
I guess you never see us at the same time, at the same event... so we could be the same. But really we aren't.
I could just be writing the occasional comment on my blog so you'd think I had a man. Kind of like in high school where we'd wonder if a girl really had a boyfriend cause we never saw him. And we always wanted boyfriend trophies to prove they existed, jacket, football t-shirts, a ring!
Master of Sin does exist and if I was making him up I'd have him comment more often. Would he say the same stuff if I was writing his comments? Probably not.
There are other things I'd change about him too. He's a Tea Partier for one thing. I'd change that. I'm a Canadian and currently trying to decide who to vote for in a federal election. But it won't be a candidate that the Tea Party would approve.
He lives too far away. I live in Canada. He lives in the southern USA. Though that does mean super sexy accent. Which I LOVE. So maybe I wouldn't really want to change that.
And if you read back at all, his hobbies are other subs. Which I'm okay with in theory, but in practice ... well if I was inventing him, I guess I'd either make him monogamous or make myself fine with it.
Actually if I was making us up, I'd have us live together. And maybe we'd get a dog. And umm, I'd be taller. And thinner. And younger. Maybe he would too. I might as well cater to some of the stuff he likes too. And.. and I'd love my job. And we'd live happily ever after.
But thanks for the comment. It made me laugh, brightened my day. And gave me a post this morning when I was feeling lazy.
Friday, April 1, 2011
First Sense of Submitting
It seems to me that submission, and dominance too, are all about attitude.
It's not so much about sex. That can happen without submission. I could suck his cock and not feel submissive about it. That part seems clear to me. Lots of people have sex, perfectly normal, perfectly lovely sex with not a speck of D/s in it.
I'm less clear about pain or about humiliation. It seems to me that those things are bad in vanilla world. That there's a link between submission and masochism for me. Though I am more than willing to hear from anyone who wants to tell me that they enjoy pain without submission.
And humiliation? Even less so right? Maybe I'm being too simplistic today, but it seems to me that without the power exchange, it falls more into the category of abuse than anything else. As I said, maybe I'm being too simplistic today, not seeing other potential uses or interactions.
It's about the mind set that each of us approaches it with.
It's a leap of faith. I know I've said this before. A hundred times maybe. Leap and the net will appear. Leap and you won't need the net. Leap and he will catch me.
And when it's working, working well, it's like aerial acrobatics that we've practiced so many times that we don't think about the net, about the possibility of falling, don't think about failure.
But when it isn't working, and we revert to vanilla, then it's hard to take that first step off the high platform. Because it isn't really a step that's needed, it's a leap, an act of faith.
If I leap, you have to be watching me at the right moment. If I leap will you catch me?
When we are out of practice at it, it's as if we have forgotten how. Yes, it's like riding a bicycle, it comes back, it's what we are, but for that first moment, there's a sense of unfamiliarity. Am I doing this right? I want to do it, but where do I put my hands? My feet? And how do I push off? How do I start?
How do I give myself that first sense of submitting?
It's not so much about sex. That can happen without submission. I could suck his cock and not feel submissive about it. That part seems clear to me. Lots of people have sex, perfectly normal, perfectly lovely sex with not a speck of D/s in it.
I'm less clear about pain or about humiliation. It seems to me that those things are bad in vanilla world. That there's a link between submission and masochism for me. Though I am more than willing to hear from anyone who wants to tell me that they enjoy pain without submission.
And humiliation? Even less so right? Maybe I'm being too simplistic today, but it seems to me that without the power exchange, it falls more into the category of abuse than anything else. As I said, maybe I'm being too simplistic today, not seeing other potential uses or interactions.
It's about the mind set that each of us approaches it with.
It's a leap of faith. I know I've said this before. A hundred times maybe. Leap and the net will appear. Leap and you won't need the net. Leap and he will catch me.
And when it's working, working well, it's like aerial acrobatics that we've practiced so many times that we don't think about the net, about the possibility of falling, don't think about failure.
But when it isn't working, and we revert to vanilla, then it's hard to take that first step off the high platform. Because it isn't really a step that's needed, it's a leap, an act of faith.
If I leap, you have to be watching me at the right moment. If I leap will you catch me?
When we are out of practice at it, it's as if we have forgotten how. Yes, it's like riding a bicycle, it comes back, it's what we are, but for that first moment, there's a sense of unfamiliarity. Am I doing this right? I want to do it, but where do I put my hands? My feet? And how do I push off? How do I start?
How do I give myself that first sense of submitting?
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