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.

Innocence Is Precious

I was at a social gathering, small and friendly and slightly boozy. I was having a good time. One conversation led to another, and a card game was produced, one that clearly labels itself as only suitable for adults. Here is where my trouble began, because it transpired that one of our number was still a child (below even the age of consent). I’m not averse to adult oriented humour, even when it’s slightly questionable, but I felt very uncomfortable with the prospect of corrupting a child.

Mat pointed out reasonably, that one of the child’s parents was present and they seemed perfectly comfortable with the situation and this is true, they did. But still, I found myself unable to reconcile myself to the situation.
I sat the game out, making polite excuses about not really playing that sort of game (while mentally running over the fun I might have playing it in the right situation), I stopped drinking too, I needed to be in control of my behaviour. Still I felt awkward and uncomfortable. If I could have found a way to politely excuse myself and go home I would have.

Now I’m perfectly aware that I’m the one out of step here. That nobody else saw the game as a moral dilemma and I understand that; but to me childhood is brief and precious, and innocence once lost can’t be regained. I may be a filthy pervert (you’ve read this blog, right) but I play with equals (in some senses at least) who have their own perversions.

When Mat tells me that he’s innocent*, I love it, am charmed by it, but equally I don’t really want to be the one to corrupt him. Yet I will happily help him make any of his own filthy fantasies come true if I can.

Innocence is precious, don’t rush to lose it, it’s a one way journey and you can never go back. On the other hand, if it’s already gone, then you’re very welcome here.

*He’s not nearly as innocent as he makes out, dear reader.

Do I Need To Define My Gender?

I’ve been puzzling over gender recently. I think I have some understanding of transgender because it implies a sense of crossing from one side to the other but what then is genderqueer?

This post explains one person’s thoughts and they’re beautifully expressed but have left me feeling confused. Is genderqueer just “other but not other enough”?

I’ve never liked dividing the world up by gender but that’s just because it results in a world where I don’t fit.
I mean I’m female, genetically and physically (you’ve seen the pictures) and I’m happy with my womanly curves; but I don’t fit the socially ideal image of woman.
Sure I like sex with men, but aside from enjoying a nice cock I also love strapping on my own and fucking my Boy. Where does that leave me?

I’m not really interested in makeup or girly things. Growing up I was often ‘one of the boys’ because the things I enjoyed doing were male dominated but I felt accepted as such.
Adults seem less flexible than teenagers though.

I want to be treated as a person, respected and engaged. Not categorised or dismissed because I happen to have breasts. I resent being treated differently because of my genitalia. I don’t want anyone to assume they know my interests or preferences, not least because you’ll probably guess wrong.

Yet despite identifying with many of the points Aerie made I don’t, at the moment, feel able to claim the label ‘genderqueer’ for myself. That to me implies admitting that who I am is not a normal woman, whereas I feel content that biology makes me female but that society should stop trying to limit me because of it.
And that should surely be true for all people, no matter what gender they claim, or even if they would prefer not to claim one at all.

How To Be The Perfect Dominant

CakeSo you want to know how to be the perfect Dominant and you’ve come looking for advice*. Well I can help you. If you are a submissive you might want to look here instead; but if following that advice gets you into trouble then you’re entirely on your own.

As a Dominant, always remember it’s all about your submissive’s pleasure. An unhappy submissive is an uncooperative submissive and nobody wants that.

As the Dominant you are expected not to need to ask your submissive what they want from you, that would be too easy. Instead you must learn to interpret their little signals. Do they lean up against you or put their head in your lap – they want to be fussed. Are they lying on their front, wriggling their bottom – they want to be spanked (gently of course). You will of course have to learn to distinguish this wriggle from the hip thrusting version which means that they want to be fucked.
Remember, a good dominant will not ask them which they want; you must just know.

As a Dominant you may also control what your submissive wears. This is a complicated area. In occasion your submissive may actively ask for your direction but they also sometimes need to be directed spontaneously. In either case it is important to choose garments that make your submissive feel sexy, no matter what the occasion (see previous comment about unhappy submissives). Start thinking of a good excuse why your submissive has turned up to the local ‘bring and buy’ sale in a straitjacket and frilly panties now.

While attempting to meet your submissive’s needs you may occasionally wish to also satisfy your own, which may not be what your submissive was expecting. Be warned, you may well encounter vigorous resistance. In this case, back off gently and go and do something else. Your submissive will come back to seek attention when they are good and ready.

As the perfect Dominant you must also provide them constantly with evidence that they are loved and wanted.
Bringing them coffee in bed is a good way to ensure they start the day remembering who owns them. Make sure too, to provide a good supply of treats. What sort of cake is their favourite? Find out. With a little effort you can have your submissive eating out of your hand (literally, if you like).

And really that’s all there is to it; with a little attention, mind reading and, of course, the perfect submissive – you too can be the perfect Dominant.

*Really? Here? 

What Is My Submissive For

I spend quite a lot of time thinking about my role as a Domme but for once I wanted to assess what my submissive’s role is to me.

He is there to give me pleasure. Sheer physical and sexual pleasure without me needing to feel guilty or needing to provide any quid pro quo. I can lie back, so to speak, and enjoy freely what he gives.

He is there for me to play with. I can play with his body and mind and bring him to pleasure so intense he loses himself in it. I can learn to control his reactions and practise my skills at doing so.

You’ll note that as a result he is both for giving and receiving pleasure but without the automatic requirement that both parties have an orgasm in the same session or they aren’t ‘doing it properly’ that produces pressure and limits enjoyment.

He is there for me to exercise my frustrations on his body. When the world is too much for me I can take out my pain by giving it to him. That he takes this, purely for me, that he loves me enough to give me this outlet only makes me love him more.

He is there for me to own. I control him in subtle ways, taking what no vanilla girlfriend can. I have power that thrills and yet that I find myself holding back from. I will not abuse this generosity of spirit but I will treasure it as a precious gift.

This is what I want from my submissive, this is what I receive.
This is what he is for.

Why Polyamory Is Actually What Normal People Do All The Time

There’s a tendency to think of polyamory as something a few unusual people do.  I’ve heard monogamous folk claim that they just couldn’t do it, as though being polyamorous was somehow completely different from the life they lead, but it occurs to me that actually that’s not really true at all.

As I write this I am at home alone. My husband is away for the weekend. Not for a romantic getaway with his girlfriend (although he does that too sometimes) but to pursue one of his hobbies. Not one that I want to pursue with him in this case, so off he’s gone without me.

You might think that I would be taking advantage of the space to have a night of kinky abandon with my Boy but in fact he’s out tonight also. No, still not a sexy outing, he’s merely out socialising with friends.

I’m perfectly happy with this situation (in fact it gives me a chance to do a bit of blogging) but it has led me to thinking about why I feel so happy.

This evening isn’t a surprise to me. Plans have been made and discussed. I know that both of them checked that I was happy with their being away this evening and I appreciate that care for my feelings. Neither of them have left me feeling that they don’t wish for my company, or that they are glad to get away from me. On the contrary I am confident that they both love me and will come home to me full of affection.

Now, neither of them are out with other partners, so you might claim that isn’t really polyamorous at all – and that’s my point. This is perfectly normal, everyday life; the people I love are simply somewhere else having fun. Yet I recognise my happiness when I kiss them goodbye and when I think of them while they are away as the same feelings that allowed me to be lucky enough to love both of them in the first place.

The result is that I’m happily alone on a Friday night loving that the people I love are out having a good time. Really, that’s all that polyamory is. It’s that simple.