Sometimes It Is All About Me

Being a Domme is all about the submissive. I think I’ve mentioned this before.

But there are moments when that isn’t true. When my Boy runs me a bath with candles and bubbles. When he then washes me gently and massages my feet. When he climbs into the bath to provide me sexual pleasure.
I am warm and comfortable and lost in delight and not a little light-headed.

He helps me out gently and takes care of me.

Then I lie down on the bed and with his mouth he gives me pleasure, worshipping my cunt. He is gentle and patient. I am quiet, my mind drifting while my body enjoys his ministrations. Selfishly I relax into the pleasure, happy to enjoy it, to receive this gift. My hands stroke his head, his hair is soft and easy to hold on to.
The pleasure builds slowly without pressure until I find myself close to orgasm. Now my mind joins in, with sexual images to help carry me over that edge, to complete my pleasure.

I am gasping, shaking, and yet somehow still relaxed. I lie back down and am caressed and held. It is a perfect moment.
It is my perfect moment.

A Brief View

I seem hardly to have time for serious kink blogging these days but it’s not forgotten. Nor is the joy of it decreased. Still happy domesticity and a myriad of other projects take my time away both from here and also from the public play and photography that fuels this blog.

This coming year though I hope to find more time for those, to satisfy my Boy’s needs and my own desires. Perhaps too I will find time to muse on the complex peculiarities of our D/s relationship, which seems (in its own unique way) to meet our fluctuating needs.

In the meantime I can reflect that this last year has been full of love and happiness and that I am truly the luckiest of women. Happy New Year to you all.

Not Really Submissive

I’ve been thinking about my ‘submissive’ fantasies and why I have them when I don’t really want to be submissive at all.

Actually when I look at it most (maybe all) of those fantasies are sexual. Let’s face it; ‘nice’ girls aren’t supposed to enjoy sex, these days it’s not even always safe to enjoy sex and anyway Dommes are supposed to be ice queens denying everybody sex.

So, that doesn’t leave many places to go with a slutty sexual fantasy. Whoever I am being, I’m not supposed to be the one being the centre of sexual attention (these days that’s surely Mat’s role) even if I’d like it. Plus while I like the idea of slutty sex (no I’m not putting the details in this post but you could read my fantasies for ideas), where on earth does one find clean, STD-free cock, that comes with an intelligent, considerate and consent aware person on the other end.
Actually, I can find those, but then when you like and respect the person on the other end, I feel rather uncomfortable about asking them to be part of my fantasies (especially if it involves multiple men which experience so far leads me to feel most men are less keen on).

Even the non-sexual aspects of those fantasies are about permission to enjoy myself, to enjoy sensations, pure physical moments without feeling guilty that I’m ‘making’ someone else do something for me, that they’re only doing it to please me, that I’m being selfish for demanding it of them.

Really (and I know some of my readers will throw something at the screen at this point) I don’t want to be a bother to anyone. Fantasies, especially submissive ones, are my way of setting up a scene where I know that I’m not a bother, where I can enjoy getting what I want, without asking and therefore without feeling guilty either for the desire itself or the imposition on someone else’s pleasure.

Whereas in real life I want (and need) to feel in control because trust does not come easy. Plus all that planning and negotiating is sometimes an unreasonable amount of effort for something I can happily enjoy in my head safely, any time I please, without any worries at all.

So fantasies are a great escape into great sex. For me, it doesn’t always need to be real, because in my head it always is.

A Submissive Side (Or Not)

Who am I? Sometimes it’s simple. Sometimes I’m just a Domme, but sometimes it’s more complicated than that.

I’m confused, lonely, frightened, endlessly searching. I want confidence, reassurance, growth.
Sometimes I’m submissive, wanting to be used, abused and loved. But for me submission turns out to be a road that leads to pain and not the good kind either.

To give myself to a Dom, what would I be asking for? Let me tell you.
I want to be encouraged, I want their hand holding mine. I want them pushing the back of my bike as I cycle along until I’m flying and I turn and discover they let go some time ago and have just been running along side me for reassurance.
But when I wobble, then I need them to be holding fast, to stop me from falling.

No human being can possibly be expected to be that person, to take me to the darkest places in my soul and bring me back safely, to give me strength and never let me down. So, submission, for me is pain, disappointment, damage to a heart already scarred by hurt.

I cannot live those fantasies without harm, so I will not live them.
Yet they resurface now and again, to be enjoyed alone inside my mind and also, it seems, here with you.