An Uncertain Invasion

Sucking My CockSo many posts start ‘we went to a play party’ but this was our first this year. Yes, you read that correctly. For various reasons formal public play has been missing for a while and that is not good for Mat or for me.

So the result was a trip out to a new event, a new venue and with new people. I was nervous and uncertain and arriving early to a brightly lit empty room with a few people on one side propping up the bar did little to reassure. I didn’t feel like a Domme at that moment and whether Mat responded to that lack, or his uncertainty increased my own I’m not sure but we struggled to find our respective headspaces.

We decided to explore the venue (primarily a swingers club). We found a small dungeon, reassuringly dark and with a few pieces of furniture. That space gave me somewhere to relax, the confidence to put my Boy safely on his lead and to start to play.

Still it was awkward, clumsy, nervous and uncertain. It wasn’t until I had my Boy on all fours on the bed and was pounding into him with my strap-on that I really began to feel like myself again.
I had a wonderful time flogging him, in a gently therapeutic (for both of us) way. We enjoyed watching some boys being thoroughly abused, well I definitely enjoyed it. I even just about found time to use Mat’s boy-cunt again before the evening was over.

And so, finally, we went home, to fall asleep in happy exhaustion. Knowing we need to do this again much more often.

An Uncertain Domme

I’m not a very good Domme. I’m too nervous, too uncertain, too easily discouraged. I lose confidence when I am unable to win my Boy over to my mind and unable to discern his. I’m a novice in so many things and yet I fear practising risks failing and losing what little confidence my Boy has in me.

Mostly I sail between these problems, being the best Domme I know how to be. Taking joy from each successful moment, enjoying the challenge of building the relationship, and my Boy’s pleasure, in all the ways he needs. Loving the freedom and the expression that being his Domme gives me. Flying high on a wave of passion and emotion that almost nothing else can equal.

Sometimes though I lose my way. When that happens, when I lose my nerve, when I am paralysed by uncertainty, unable to truly be a Domme, I wonder does my Boy know or notice? Does he wonder why I do not act? Is he frustrated or relieved?
I dare not ask him but I can’t help but wonder.

Yet I’m not looking for sympathy here or reassurance. My challenges are my own. I may never be a super confident Domme but as long as I have my Boy I can live with my uncertainties.

I’ve Lost My Way

When I started this blog and the associated (then open) twitter account. I was hoping to find people who were also kinky, people to talk to, people like me. To feel less alone in this world.

Yet since those days, things have changed. My kink sexuality has switched directions, I have needed to make the twitter account private. Still I have continued to write here still seeking to make connections.

The situation is exacerbated by real life limitations. I find myself often unable to attend the few suitable kink events I know about, unable to find readily available alternatives. I’m too poor to simply hire a dungeon, tempting as that is and it is hard to find space, time and focus at home to play without work or social responsibilities intruding. All of which leaves my online life as a significant part of my kinky self.

So now I find myself feeling lonelier than ever. The people who read this blog now are not the ones who were there when I started and why ever you read, few of you feel moved to comment, to encourage or even to criticise (many thanks to all of you who do). On twitter, few people respond to my tweets, and many of the people I wish to talk to cannot see me (even if I respond to them).

All of which leaves me wondering what I should do next. I cannot significantly change how I write, after all, I am who I am, but still if I knew what would interest people I would love to open a dialogue here. I would love to read more blogs by people who would be interested in my comments to them, if only I knew how to find them. I could open my twitter account, and perhaps more people would find me or respond to me but then the people I follow are presumably not interested in me or they would already follow me back. They may indeed have followed and unfollowed already who can say.

I genuinely don’t know what to do. I find myself alone, a girl learning to be a Domme, with no one to ask for advice, no encouragement, only a growing sense of loneliness and inadequacy.

All advice gratefully received.

I Need To Bring It Home

I’ve been thinking recently about public versus private play and what it means.

I like playing publicly. Taking my Boy out, showing him off (in his pretty panties), whipping him or tying him up. I like the chance to sit and watch other people play, to take in the atmosphere and to get inspiration for my own play.

There are limitations to public play though. The opportunities are limited; at most once or twice a month and if something gets in the way that chance is gone. I also prefer not to do anything too adventurous in public. While our safeword can (and has) been used gracefully to alter a scene, I want to avoid the “No, that doesn’t work” or even the fits of giggles when we discover that what seemed like a hot idea has comic implications.

Private play, for me, is more intimate, less pressured, more rewarding. I can experiment, try new things, relax, say “hold on a minute” while I decide to find some new toy to play with (raiding the kitchen drawer for example) and aftercare can involve our own duvet and the sweetie box without needing to plan for it in advance.

Yet recently it seems like all our play has been public. There are little moments at home of course, his head in my lap, a quick morning caning or simply me using the strap-on on him but it has been a long time since he spent an hour naked at my feet or playing my puppy or even doing any of the several things on my ‘yet to do’ list.

I can find several excuses why not. We’re busy, it’s cold, there are things to do… and yet I came across a post by Ferns recently that got me thinking. It talks about what to do when your submissive says ‘no’ and if I’m honest that’s what stops me initiating play at home, the fear that the response to ‘get naked and sit at my feet’ will be ‘but it’s cold’ or ‘but I’ve got things to do’ or just plain ‘no’.

I mean I know there isn’t time to play all the time and possibly ‘but Mistress you haven’t let me have clothes or get up off my knees for a week now…’ would be a reasonable hint that I should give him a night off but I want him to trust me to let things get to that point (I wouldn’t…probably).

I want to dictate when and how we play because surely that’s the point? Hell, I need it to be the point. I need him to trust me, I need to feel I can ask and get a ‘yes Mistress’ because Ferns is quite clear about what happens if I stop asking.

Soon, she is not dominating him anymore, she is just getting him to do things that she hopes he won’t mind doing. He then wonders what happened to the fearless Domme he used to adore and she wonders what happened to her lovely submissive.

So I’m going to try to play more at home, demand more, experiment more and try harder to be the Domme I want to be. I hope that will give my Boy the space to be the submissive he wants to be too.

Struggling To Feel It

I am both the author and the heroine of my own writing here; a situation which causes its own tensions.

I write a lot about the wonderful fun I have with my boy but there are other moments I find hard to share. The ones where there is uncertainty, where I don’t feel like his Domme and don’t think he sees me as one. The misunderstandings, the awkward distances, the lack of confidence, the anguish of insecurity.

Part of that reticence is fear. Fear of making the situation worse, of breaking a relationship which at its best is a euphoric mix of joy, exultation and wonder. Part is my own shame at being unable to communicate my feelings adequately, of having done something wrong.

I feel though that this leaves this blog with a less than complete view of my relationship. I’m not writing a novel here, this is my story and I’m not a perfect person. I’m not a perfect Domme.

Sometimes I’m tired, or he’s tired.  Sometimes the plan just doesn’t come together. Sometimes real life demands more attention. Sometimes there’s no place for us to be a Domme and her boy.

When that happens I miss it. I long desperately for the moment when the focus kicks in and I really feel it.
Then all will be well again.

Submission To Give

Recently my submissive side has been begging for attention. The voice in my head reminding me who I am, the yearning to have my wrists bound, to surrender myself into another’s hands, all of these have been insistent reminders of a part of me deeply buried.

Those brief fantasies, flashes of desire are delightful and compelling.

Yet when I contemplate really, physically, experiencing such things I am overcome with panic. I cannot imagine actually submitting to someone, letting go completely, without being tense and stressed at the thought.

I’m so ashamed of these desires.
I want to be reassured, made to feel that it’s OK to feel this way, but comfort is hard to find. No one can tell me that its alright to be submissive, to want to lose myself for a little while in the will of others. No one can tell me that being a slut is OK, that enjoying my sexuality freely and openly does not lower my worth, or reduce my value in the eyes of the people I love. No one can tell me that I am still loved, admired and wanted even after I have allowed myself to be hurt and abused.
I want to be told that, want to believe it, I don’t think I know how.

I am deeply ashamed of my submission but conversely intensely proud of Mat for being submissive. That contradiction puzzles me and I can offer little explanation other than that I want to give him exactly the approval and pride that I want but am lacking for myself.

Still Mat is stronger than I am and more detached. His submission is lighter, more playful. He can bottom freely without shame or fear, merely enjoying the experience. He can happily play with people he isn’t emotionally entwined with knowing he has his own limits and he will quickly stand up to anyone who tries to breach them. Even what he does with me is primarily fun, loving yes, but still, I suspect, much less emotionally meaningful for him than it is to me.

For me both dominance and submission are hugely emotional experiences. I offer too much of myself and let down too many guards. Desperate to be loved I will let my own inner standards be breached in the search for approval and hate myself for doing so. I will read too much into every encounter and be devastated if I do not get sufficient approval and reassurance.
I have no strength of my own. I exist only in the relationships I have with people I love.

One wise man once said “I have submission to give but not to waste“, it’s a phrase that has always stayed with me.
I don’t want to get hurt, don’t want to feel rejected or unworthy or unsafe. The solution seems to be to learn to be casual about it. To bottom selfishly for fun rather than forcing it to be deeply committed. To learn to keep my guard up and protect my soul from being hurt. To learn to enjoy the moment, the sensation, without looking for meaning.

For now that means changing some definitions, learning some new habits, thinking about things in a different way.
In a strange way it means becoming my own Domme, keeping my submission for myself, protecting myself, loving myself.

I have submission to give but not to waste.

Keep Calm and Carry On

I’d gone out to play in public with my boy. I knew I was entering new territory, a new venue, new people and I was certainly a little nervous but my previous experiences had been good and I was keen to enjoy myself.

Mat was his usual adorable self and I took that as read. I was unsurprised to see him greeted warmly by people he already knew. I envy him his easy popularity; wherever he goes he attracts attention, smiles and warmth. I find it hard to talk to people I don’t know, I am shy and hesitant, I am sure people wonder why someone as open and fun as Mat puts up with a quiet, withdrawn Domme like me. I certainly couldn’t tell you.

Still I started the evening happy with a playful puppy in tow. Then suddenly I felt the biting of insecurity. At the time I couldn’t place what had disturbed me but it left me wanting to run away and hide.

My first responsibility though is always to my boy so I bit my tongue and carried on as best I could. That it was worth the struggle was certain by the end of the evening, when I saw him lying back, lost in pleasure as he was gently stroked with twin floggers.

His enjoyment calms me, centres me, reminds me that he is happy to be my boy no matter what anyone else may think.
Then I remember that we play in our own way and are happy in it, so I keep calm and carry on, looking forward to the next time we go out together.