My girl was telling me about something she read and she was reluctant to post anything about it because she goes out of her way to not make waves with anyone. I, on the other hand, don’t usually give a shit. I rarely post anything here and I thought this was as good a time as any to rock the boat.
Libby, of “a submissive’s musings” made a post about some “Domme” who said “I am looking for someone who wants a young, sexy Mistress or Princess to spoil, adore and OBEY. If you are ready to be My pay pig, then contact Me now. You must be prepared to PROVE you want to spoil Me financially by sending Me a small donation or gift certificate. If you are not ready to spoil Me with gifts, then KEEP IT MOVING.“
Apparently, this “Domme” has links to stores so guys can shower her with tokens of their devotion to her uberness, and they can also buy her crusty, old, used drawers at the low, low price of 2 for $40. Several people agreed with her less than favorable assessment of that “Domme”, and several disagreed. I happen to agree with all the commenters. How can that be? Well, like most men in my position, I generally agree with the notion that there are no rules in this lifestyle, and the whole “your kink is not my kink but that’s OK” philosophy. However, if I was going to be truly honest to myself and the world, I’d have to admit that I find the entire FemDom idea to be preposterous. I have broad shoulders and I can take the hate that will surely rain down on me for saying that, but I have my reasons and to me, they are quite valid. I certainly don’t expect any submissive male to change his way of thinking just because I say so and I would never tell anyone else how to live his or her life as long as it doesn’t directly or adversely affect me or mine.
None of us need to pretend to like or understand the way other people live, we don’t even have to accept it, we just have to leave them alone to live however they want to because it’s none of our business. Libby makes a valid point about how the vanilla world looks at “our world” and when they see crap like that, they look at all of us the same way. Frankly, I don’t give a baboon’s fat, red ass what anyone thinks of the way we live our lives, vanilla or not. They can accept it or they can “KEEP IT MOVING” as the crusty panty “Domme” would say. I will continue to tell my girl how to dress, when to shut up, when to suck and when to speak. I’ll spank, slap, cuff, gag, blind and hood her when I damn well please and I’ll put holes in her flesh when and where I please. No one but her has to accept or understand any of it and I don’t give a damn that the vanilla world will NEVER accept lifestyles that veer too far from missionary in the bed with the lights off. (That sounds like some kind of attempt to put an end to a game of Sex Clue.) We will never be able to practice the more daring parts of our lifestyles in public without fear of legal and religious persecution, but just as a fat, smelly woman can wear sweats and a tube top to Target, you can wear your collar and rings and tattoos and brands as well, just be prepared to be laughed at, frowned upon and pointed toward. Don’t do anything illegal, or even borderline illegal in public and most of us will be able to live and let live. Religious zealots and related nutjobs will always be zealots and nutjobs, just steer clear of them and/or vote them out.
The moral of my story is, I’m selling my rancid, holey, stuck to the carpet, used to be white socks for $5 a pair. Contact me here for the Paypal link.
i never know when i might be falling out of favor with Master. It’s not even so much that i’m forgetting my place or that i might be in need of “correction” as He calls it, it’s just that He’ll make a comment “you sure are cocky, aren’t you?”. i should see the writing on the wall, when those comments start coming. i never do though, i suppose i’m sort of thick and i don’t just mean my thighs! =p
The other day i was in the kitchen giving the dog a snack for the umptheenth time that day and i knew that Master was planning something as He wouldn’t allow me to get dressed in my girdle and stockings as normal, i was just in a mini skirt and blouse. Very uncharacteristic of Him. So He called me into the bedroom and it appeared i was indeed in for some sort of something, but He never lets on as to what it’s going to be. i know it’s because He doesn’t want me to freak out or get nervous. He put a ball gag in and earlier He’d put the leather wrist cuffs on as well as the big belled leather ankle cuffs. i seriously sound like Santa when i wear those things. They are very loud when i wear just one, let alone both of them.
i also had the stainless steel & silicone locking collar on that He doesn’t have me wear very often, so i had a pretty good idea from earlier in the day when He was putting all that on me that something was coming, later in the day. Again, i just didn’t know what and that’s always better for me. So He attached the ankle cuffs together with some sort of lock and then to a chain that’s always on the bed. Then locked the leather wrist cuffs together (i think?) behind my back and also put some handcuffs on me. He also attached my hands to a chain hanging from the bed post.
If you’ve never seen pictures of the bed that Master built about a year ago, it’s worth the gander. i don’t care how badly i wanted out of those chains, they were attached to eye bolts that go into 4×4 posts. The bed itself is pretty intense.
Once He had me all secure He gave me some quiet time which for me isn’t a bad thing. i don’t get bored easily and i can just sit for a long time. What is always hard for me is being worried about what’s coming and the pain of the handcuffs. There was a time when i could hardly hold my arms behind my back, i don’t have that trouble as much, now it’s the handcuffs as they cut into my hands. i don’t have a high threshold for that i guess. So i sit there and i wonder what will happen and i have the hardest time concentrating, what will He do to me and what have i done to get here?
i always try to think about my smart mouth and why i say the things i say, why can’t i just shut my mouth? i know that more often than not it’s not what i say but sometimes what i don’t say. He wants me to talk to Him, He wants me to say the right things, He wants me to be more passionate. So here i sit, trying to think of ways to be more passionate, and in He walks and He grabs a little flogger i think that’s what He picks up first. The first thing He does is swing down hard and hits the very tip of the nipple/nipple ring and it stings, badly. i just looked down because i didn’t want to whimper right off. He goes through a little flogger, another flogger and some little leather smacker thing. i’m red by now and every time He hits me i can’t help but think He doesn’t hit me often enough, i know i deserve it, but i just wish He’d stop. Over and over in my head, please please please please stop…. it hurts it hurts owie owie… Finally He stops. It hasn’t been long but to me, long enough.
He kisses me and asks me if i’ve learned my lesson, with sort of a sadistic laugh. A laugh i really haven’t heard from Him before. i just said uh huh and He left me. He left me to think some more.
i know i need this more often and it might be the first time in a long time i’ve written about something like this. i just don’t think that when He gives me a lesson like this i am as thankful as i should be. i want it to be over the entire time and then when it’s over, i feel bad that i didn’t try harder. Am i more of a masochist than i’ve ever made myself out to be? =)
Peace to you and yours
We had a nice quiet dinner in the Quad Cities for our One Year Anniversary. Then we went shopping and i got few things for my birthday. It was a really nice evening and it ended with a bang. When we got home Master blindfolded me, and cuffed me in “The Box”. He left me in there for what seemed like a long time and with the lights off, it’s completely pitch black in there. i actually like spending time in there. As soon as He puts me in there i enter some type of “head space”. It’s a good place to be and it helps me get more into my submission than just about anything else.
When He finally took me out, He lead me into the bedroom and had me lie on the bed. i was pretty sure that i was in for a fairly intense spanking and i was right. He had me screaming into my gag in no time. He started with the flogger then He switched to the crop (i hate that thing!). He used the leather paddle some and that really put me over the edge. i was completely wasted by the time He started spanking me with His hand and my butt was on fire! i found myself going through a number of different emotions and the one that i always remember is anger. i always wonder why He puts me through more pain when i’m already in so much pain to begin with. Then i come to the conclusion that the “normal” pain that i’m in isn’t a submission type of pain. He subjects me to this type of pain to give me an opportunity to prove to Him that i’m willing to endure this pain for Him. Although i fight the temptation to be angry with Him i end up feeling good about myself and happy that i was able to please Him.
When the spanking was over, He uncuffed me, took the gag off and used me for His pleasure. By the time He was finished with me i could barely even talk, forget walking and functioning like a human being. i was completely fried and it felt good. We talked for a long time and it ended up to be an awesome night.
Today has been a bad day for me as i have felt just awful. i had to skip my bowling night because my head was just hurting too bad. It’s a good thing that i didn’t go to bowling because i was sick when we got home from having supper and running errands. i’m going to head to bed and pretend this day never happened and hope that tomorrow is a much better day.
Peace to you and yours!