femdom – Page 63 – Contemplating the divine

Girl talk

Boy silent. Nodding is permitted.

Has it really? Goodness, it’s so easy to lose track of time. It feels like it was only yesterday.

Forgive it magnanimously? No? Oh well.

Dommes undertaking electrical play should ensure that some thick non-conducting material is in constant contact with any electrodes. Males work fine.

It’s not a very big tube but it’s just large enough.

Funny how failures to communicate always involve me misunderstanding her and never the other way around. Of course, the fact that I’m rarely allowed to speak could be a contributing factor.

My SO looked a bit worried when I asked her to ‘feminise’ me. She gently explained that no matter how hard I tried, I’d never make a convincing woman. Even if I were to try to mimic feminine behaviour such as intelligence, competence, courage and leadership, I simply could not get away with it. So obviously she was immensely relieved when I explained that all I meant was that I wanted to be dressed in a frilly pink dress and ordered to flounce around with a pout on my excessively made-up face. I was soon happily across her lap having my naughty little knickered bottom spanked and shrieking like a little girl, so that was all right.

I don’t think I’d want to be a real woman anyway. Too much responsibility. And not enough chores.

Don’t you just hate it when you’re sent off to play with other sissies? They can be so self-centred and immature. I’d rather just flounce about in front of Mistress, showing off my frillies. Perhaps I should try having a tantrum about it.

She looks lovely in it. And you’ll look lovely ironing it, too.

Actually, quite a lot of things taste a bit shoey to me right now, but that’s because for obvious health reasons I’m wearing the mask she made me most of the time, so it’s if the world were made of stinky socks. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing…

Don’t worry about looking foolish when you’re doing the little dance. Most of the passers-by probably won’t know what the moves and actions are supposed to be anyway. I’m sure they’ll find it amusing, though, and that’s the most important thing.

Rather like me, this gentleman makes an unconvincing woman, exhibiting as he does stereotypical male behaviour such as whining, laziness and cowardliness. Fortunately, Her Maj has ways of dealing with those.

Maybe I’m just stupid

I thought we’d got it sorted. (NB: link is not femdom-related, unless you have the same sorts of fantasies about Louise Wener as I do).

Ah, those far off heterosexual days.

The game of ‘fetch’ is actually harder than it looks.

Once she’d explained her idea, they agreed that it was safe. Not consensual – obviously – and quite possibly not sane, but safe enough, probably, so they just decided to go for it.

He’s lucky. My
SO usually decides I’m too busy to take even 15 seconds out of my busy
schedule and of course I have to agree with her about that.

I think she’s right: she probably should have used a different bat. But those big heavy ones have their uses, too.

Whatever she likes, whenever she says

Honestly, imagining bothering her about a little thing like that.

Oh well…wouldn’t want to disappoint Suzie, would we?

Obviously, you are allowed to have opinions, even as her husband, as long as they’re the right ones.

…unless she’d rather I made her a nice cup of tea? No? Sure? OK, cattle prod it is, then.

Like most men in a female-led relationship, I learnt about pre-menstrual tension quite early on. Also post-menstrual tetchiness and during-menstrual extreme violence.

Femdom and story-telling

As regular ‘readers’ of this blog will know, I don’t go in
much for discussion of the philosophy and practice of ‘real’ femdom. This blog doesn’t try to be realistic; it’s
just supposed to be fantasy and fun.

But at the risk of trespassing on Paltego’s turf I do have a question
to the ‘community’ to see what they think and it is this: is femdom porn (or any kind of kinky porn,
perhaps) just more interesting than ‘regular’ porn?

This question has occurred to me for a few
reasons. One is that we are coming up to
this blog’s ten-year anniversary (more on that in a couple of weeks’ time) and I have been looking back through my own
witterings. The other is that, for
various reasons, I have been revisiting some magazines that were my first
proper femdom porn – Cruella, Goddess, Vixen and Mistress – and reminding
myself how extraordinarily exciting I found them to be, in my early 20s. I hung on every word of their stories, could
barely read more than a sentence or two at a time without having to put them down,
swooning with excitement and savouring the anticipation of where the story
would go next.

And that’s the point: femdom porn (the sort I like, anyway) tells
a story. There’s a lot that can happen
in that story: fear, dread, forgiveness, revenge, cruelty, false hope, humiliation,
trickery etc etc. I spend a lot of time
trying to think up new ways in which the ladies in my captions and stories can
be cruel, preferably with an unexpected twist, and from time to time I succeed.
I’ve been doing that for ten years on this blog and I am not finished
yet. I’m not saying every caption or
story I put up is a new idea – far from it, there are some well-worn themes –
but some are new and I certainly seek out and value novelty. Mainstream porn
seems to lack that element… fundamentally, it’s about the sex act. There are various inventive ways in which one
can lead up to the sex act (it doesn’t have to be a plumber coming around to
fix her pipes) and then there are some variations in the sex act itself, to be
sure: different holes, combinations, positions.
But that does not seem to close the story-telling gap – the femdom porn
I like won’t usually feature any sexual acts at all, it is all ‘story’. And it should have unexpected twists and
inventions that make the reader think ‘I never thought of that’, if it’s good.

I am raising this question about porn, but it applies to femdom more generally. Although some of the pro-dommes I have sessioned with allow a ‘happy release’ at the end, not all do and it is certainly not the main focus of the session. That might be humiliation, control, pain: again, a good domme (and there are so many wonderful ones) constructs a narrative, a story.

Femdom
porn image. There’s a lot going on here. One could write 5-6
different stories about this at least. Why is he in the cage, how did
she get him in there? What is going to happen to the collared guy
lying on the floor? She’s wearing boots: is she going to kick him,
stomp him, make him lick them…? There’s a cane, on the couch. What is the significance of the steel box to the
right – is someone else in there already, is one of these two going in
there? Is the box a ‘next level’ punishment after the cage? She is looking at us – so are we there? Are we next? There is so much here for
the imagination.

And
mainstream porn (from the first page of a search just with the word ‘porn’). I can see they’re having a lot of fun. And
again, one could tell stories of what happened before and what might
happen next – but not stories specifically inspired by elements of the
picture. I can understand that other people find ‘mainstream’ sex as exciting as I find femdom to be, but the porn itself, the fantasy itself just seems a lot less… interesting.

To make it a bit more personal: my own sexuality is 100%
kinky. That is, I don’t get excited at
all by thoughts of vanilla sex. If I watch a
mainstream porn video, I can get a bit into the suggestive looks and flirting in
the initial five minutes, but then the remainder of it – the grinding and
licking and thrusting and so on – does nothing for me. But I am absolutely obsessed with femdom fantasy, as the ten years of this blog demonstrates. I know that some others like both mainstream and femdom, so maybe they are better placed to answer the question than I am.

I’m porn-addicted, in fact – I can
spend many hours at a time on the Internet looking for and writing femdom
stuff, I can lie in bed for hours constructing elaborate scenarios and so on… I won’t provide sweaty details. But I guess what I am wondering, is: if I did
not have this kink, would I be as interested in ‘normal’ sexual fantasies as I am in femdom fantasies; interested in the same way? If
only my inclination were that way – if I were magically transformed by some
kind of psychotherapy so that instead of fantasising about being humiliated and
punished by women, I just fantasised about having sex with them? Would I seek out and construct equally elaborate fantasies? Could I have put up 5000 captioned images about people having sex, instead of the 5000 or so I have published on my more
twisted and evil themes? Would I enjoy looking back through them and reminding myself of what I came up with as much as I do?

It doesn’t seem to me that I could or would. There just doesn’t seem to be enough going on
in ‘normal’ sex. I certainly feel that if I were ‘normal’ I would have lost something because the vanilla imagination is much more limited, even though there would obviously also be advantages (less need for secrecy, better integration of my sexuality and my personal relationships). But is that actually true, or does that just reflect the limits on my imagination created by my existing sexual orientation?

All under control

…just as it should be.

This image reminds me a bit of my first sexual partner, although the heel is a slightly different shape.

She’s actually never done a humiliation session before – but it turns out she’s a natural.

Fortunately, he has a very sophisticated palate, so whatever it is – or used to be – I’m sure he’ll be able to work it out.

Mainly, it’s the abuse, to be honest.

Poor dear man. So very old. So very dead. I hope she gets over it quickly, so she can live a full life for him. He’d have wanted that.

Marital law

Just before he takes his real marriage vows.

Don’t worry: biting during sex play is considered vanilla these days, so no one at work is likely to bat an eye if you turn up with a few playful bite marks on your neck, slightly raggedy ears or a couple of missing fingers. So just let her go with it.

My SO thinks electric shocks are funny too. I’ve never really seen the humour in it myself, but maybe it’s one of those Mars/Venus things.

It’s always worth
buying things in bulk. My friends at school bought me a lifetime’s
supply of condoms and I’m less than one third of the way through.
Exactly one third, actually.

The decision-making in this marriage is shared. Once she’s made a decision, she shares it with you. Well… it’s best to know, isn’t it?

And a topical one for the Brits:

Some tales

… as old as time for this bright new year!

Fairy tales, that is. Not all themed around Beauty and the Beast. Well… except insofar as everything that has ever appeared on this blog does have that theme, if you think about it.

And of course she’s keeping the whip and the
cattle prod. But she’d have those anyway – her mother would have
presented her with them as a wedding gift, had circumstances not caused
her to need them sooner.

Many girls dream of meeting a handsome Prince, when they grow up. Only a small fraction of those girls also dream of watching him being eviscerated by a seagull and then going off to make passionate love to their girlfriend… but enough do to make the world a more interesting place.

Well, let’s hope she turns him back soon. It won’t be much fun for her having to look after a guy who’s basically not much more than an erect penis with a handle.

He’s going to need her to try the black leather corset, too.

Don’t try warning her how fattening you are. Women find that offensive and patronising.

A domme’s a domme for a’ that

Hmm? You want to know what?
The ‘most domme thing I’ve ever done’?

Oh, I dunno. The
usual stuff, you know? Whipping,
ball-busting… humiliation scenes. I
mean, the first time you piss on a guy, for instance, you think, like ‘this is
radical’ but then a bit later you just find yourself putting the kettle
on an hour before a piss session without even really thinking about it. It’s just an extra cup of tea.

Or the first time you stub a cigarette out on someone – like
I’m going to with this one. He wasn’t expecting that, actually – just watch him shit himself now! But it’s just the job, really.

Oh – there was this one time! I got some guy’s name wrong when setting up a
session – it was one of those that can be spelt different ways, like ‘John’
with and without an ‘h’ right? And he
wrote this creepy email in sub-speak, you know the sort of thing: “Most
imperious and perfect Mistress, although it is not the place of a mere slave to disagree with You, this worthless worm would humbly note’ – and all that.
Irregular capitalisation, even – I hate that. So I just snapped off this dommy reply:
“I am never wrong, so change your name by deed poll, slave! I will not see you in session until I see proof you have
done so.”

Anyway… he did!
I’d forgotten all about it, but then a few weeks later he got in touch again and he’d uploaded these documents to prove it – you get an amendment to your birth certificate, apparently. Showed some commitment, anyway – makes a change from slaves who want to
spend hours cleaning your flat then get bored after five minutes and start whining
to be spanked. Changed his actual name,
just like that. He must have had to sort
out bank accounts, passports, god knows what.

Funny thing, though: I never did session with him. As it happens I was going through some
changes in my life just then, wanted to cut down the number of slaves I was
seeing, so I just started saying no to new ones. He was quite persistent, now I come to think
of it. Had to block the annoying little
bastard’s email address, in the end.

Hmm? Oh I don’t
remember. John or Stephen or something
like that. You know – a name that can be
spelt different ways? That’s the point
of the story, anyway – it doesn’t actually matter who he was, does it?

Right. Time to put this cigarette
out. If you want to see
something ‘domme’ watch this. New experience for maggot here, though I’ve done it thousands of times. He’s been lying there all this time, shitting himself wondering how much it’ll hurt. Hurts like hell, actually – pretty hard-core stuff, but it’s about time he had his limits stretched. Fucking wimp.

Don’t you dare drop my fag packet, maggot! Or break it by biting too hard.

Here we go.

The part of the domme in this little tale was played by Lady Sophia Black, undoubtedly one of the dommiest dommes it has ever been my extraordinarily good fortune to encounter. She is beautiful, haughty, creative and – tragically – retired.