Peeking Out

You were all expecting more out of me with a new submissive, fresh on my doorstep, right?  Honestly, I was expecting more myself – more flogging, more bondage, more sex toys, and more blog posts too.

We had a decent couple of meetings, which after 2 years of being stood up every time I went to meet a woman, was impressive enough for me.  But was I impressed?  The girl had been late for our first meeting.  She insisted she had access to a vehicle, which I quickly came to realize was her ex’s (whom she still lived with).  She had ‘some’ anxiety issues and smoked a bit of weed became…well, much bigger issues for me than they were for her.  (For future reference folks – smoking occasionally is generally 1 or less times per week.  More than that, is considered frequent.)

Looking back, I’m not quite sure why I persisted and decided to train this one over any other smuck emailing me on there.

It quickly became clear to me that she needed a new living situation in order to be a functioning member of society, so my boyfriend and I asked her to move in.  With me on disability, hell, it would help with the rent.  And she thought about it, and then agreed.

As she was making the transition from that house to this, she had a few emotional concerns.  A razor blade wound up in my hand – which as many who know me know, is one of my only limits.  She asked me to hold on to it so she couldn’t do something she might regret.  She had a fight with her ex (whom she was moving out from).  She suddenly wanted to have a sexual experience with someone connected to this old household.

Quickly, I regretted my decision.  Thus far, all she was bringing around was drama, high intensity emotion, and questions of sanity.  Not hers, no.  I was fairly certain that her sanity levels were pretty low.  Mine though….that’s what I had to question.  Why put myself through this when I had just managed to get a good handle on my main relationship, and struggling through illness.

Not entirely consciously, I decided to give her a break.  Some chill out time to get over her past, get mentally stable, and find herself again.  She was too broken already for me to want to have a crack at her anyway.

A couple months later, it had worked.  She was becoming much more physically healthy, her mind was more balanced than it had been in a while, and she had seen me pretty sick.  She had taken care of me a little when I needed it, and frankly, she earned my trust.  Trust that was well on needed for my Domme side to stick it’s head out from underneath the covers it had been cloaked in now for several years.

And peak it did…

Updates – At long last

I haven’t been posting because there hasn’t been much to post.  My health is still very much at risk and it’s still a massive waiting game.  While it’s frustrating, i’ve reached my peace with that long ago.  The medications are keeping me relatively balanced in the meantime.

As for BDSM, this is the reason for my post.

I have been playing with a new submissive – female this time.  It’s the agreement that I made with my (mostly) vanilla boyfriend. And she’s going to be moving in with us sometime in the next little while.  With luck, that means I’ll be posting more in the coming weeks and months and this part of me will reawaken an unravel the old layers of me which have been dormant for far, far too long.

Toodles!

Sickenly Vanilla

I feel like I’m always explaining my absence.  So I’ll stop apologizing for being so hesitant to post, because frankly, you get what you get with me and that’s pretty much the way things have always been. 

But in all seriousness….”Where have I been?”

To summarize: Very sick. 

I’ve developed some issues with my liver.  This has me unable to do a lot of the physical things that I’ve gotten used to doing, and I don’t really trust myself and the body I’ve been given to take control.  In addition, I’ve found myself in another vanilla relationship, for some unknown reason.  Actually the reason isn’t that unclear.  A combination of lust and love lead me here. 

I wish I could say that I’m completely happy with the situation but as he’s very monogamous with quite a lot of jealousy, it’s just started to really interfere with my feelings of him.  I am not someone that can count on soley the attentions of one person.  My ideal would be two male partners, one of whom I’m quite sexual with, and the other who is mostly chaste.  An ideal that I really didn’t think would be such a huge problem with as many men as it has been.  It’s not like I want to fuck someone else, just torture his cock and balls and ream his ass with a strap-on while he’s locked up for someone unknown time frame with no idea of future release dates. 

How can anyone suggest the jealousy factor of this? 

To be fair, I am an emotional person, who is very needy.  I’m unhappy not getting attention.  I’m even more unhappy having no outlet for my voyeurism.  And control.  And animalistic needs to fuck someone with a giant cock in every possible hole I can slam it into. 

Given the discomfort internally of regular sex, I would think that outlet would do a lot of good right now, but instead I’m left with thoughts in my head that I can’t discuss or be open about without causing ‘issues’.  I hate causing issues…really.  But it always seems to happen in the end anyways. 

Welcome to Newfoundland (aka The Kinky Tourguide)

I managed to arrive 10 minutes late, which is normal lately with me. Fortunately, the plane was about 15 minutes delayed. I managed to get into the airport and take a look around for the first time.

Newfoundland is beautiful. In those brief moments between realizing that his flight was just enough delayed and hearing the call for the flight’s arrival, I had the opportunity to look at some of the artwork. Both the artists and the depictions of this island were silence inducing. At one, it managed to make me sigh out loud – which managed to get a couple of strange looks from a man in a business suit, and a lady with really ugly shoes.

I don’t have ugly shoes on. Nope. Knee high boots with stilettos. And with the announcement of his flight’s arrival sent me to the other end of the airport to experience several of those “Is that him?” moments before realizing “That’s him!”.

First things first – I had a busy day at work and didn’t even manage to get my lunch break in, and now I was more than ready to get some food in me. I was glad for that, it split the nerves of meeting a new person before bringing them back to the house.

I also wanted to get a night shot of Signal Hill looking onto the city – and I took a wrong turn back to my house anyways. So up we went. And it was breathtaking. I don’t know that I’d seen that in a long time – if ever. There were stars in the sky and it looked like a slew of them had fallen and lay for the taking all over the ground. Wishes and dreams for everyone…or maybe fantasies…

Some people you just feel as though you’ve known them forever. Or perhaps moments make you feel that connection which makes you think you have. This was one of those moments.

Next was the awkward part! Bringing him home, to my house. My, in my opinion, very untidy house. I did decently with cleaning it up, but he saw this as my being nervous about being there, or being in control or something. I wish he were right. I’m just anal about people coming into my space when it’s not how I would like to present it. I can’t sit still if things are out of place. It’s one thing if it’s put out of place in their presence…but…anyways, I’ll have a long post about housecleaning at a later date as there are things which I need to write about it.

Somewhere through the evening, he gifted me with a set of Hegar sounds. These are just awesome. Though, it’s a bit surreal to use them after having gotten so familiar with the length of the rosebud sounds and seeing how far they go into the body.

At one point, he took some pretty serious initiative – which is really what I need sometimes, as un-Dominant as that seems. He stripped naked while I was in the washroom, and kneeled with his legs open, just as I have written in my rules. Ooooooh yeah, baby. That’s what I like. A boy who follows rules. I had him put on his cuffs, and locked them together with a chain between. Shortly thereafter, I decided I would masturbate, as it had been a long few days, and I couldn’t remember the last time I masturbated in my usual method.

Conversation was too easy between us. Much chatting went down that night, far into the night, and bleeding into the morning – which was to be the start of my work day…but that’s okay, I had a cold. I called in sick. Better to rest and get rid of it, than to spread it around at work.

Meeting new people, new submissive men, is blissful. How could I ever give this up? Far, far too blissful for me.

Lusting for Latex

My pet has been amazing to me. A while back, there were two latex shirts he bought for me. And then for my birthday, a set of latex leggings. I had decided from the shirts that I loved the smell, the snap, the tugging, and everything else involved with wearing latex.

But the leggings. Oh Fuck.

The first scene I did with them on involved laying down some garbage bags in my living room and putting silicone lube on my body in order to get the latex on, then again over the latex once it was on. There was much rolling around, and much dry humping with a naked man getting a skin conditioning he would have never imagined. Then I let him loose with a camera. Suffice it to say – I believe he had a good time.

The shining of those is the closest thing I’ve come to my boot fetish for being able to just explore touch, and kiss and sensuality. You feel the heat of the breath, the pressure of the tongue, but none of the icky wet subbie drool that is forever there when he’s allowed to put his tongue on a Domina.

And the best thing about latex thus far! Air bubbles feel awesome when they work themselves out through the nearest opening.

The worst experience thus far? Well…Stay tuned for my recounts of a week long visit from a male sub from Toronto!

Fountain of Fantasies – Spew Forth the Sweet Nectar!

Why do submissive sorts ask for the things they may not necessarily like or want to experience?

For the sake of this post, excuse that I’m going to be speaking in a general sense. This isn’t to suggest that what I’m saying is absolutely right for everyone – I’m sure there are exceptions out there. That said, of the people I’ve talked to in my past, and of late, have confirmed my thinking is pretty on par with the general mentality of slaves, if not also submissives. (Note that I did not include fetishists, bottoms, or masochists.)

From my understanding of things, most submissives are interested more in the loss of control of doing something they fear doing, than the doing of the something they fear. They wouldn’t be even doing the activity, or have interest in it, if they were not being controlled. A pretty popular example of this is men who want to be forced to give blow jobs to other men. This is not at all because they are closet bi-sexuals (or homosexuals). It’s simply that they would never do that without the control of someone ‘forcing’ them to do it. A bi-sexual man, would enjoy the experience because of the cock in his mouth. The submissive man enjoys the power exchange. I think that makes it clear enough.

The time that I am most chatty when I’ve been submissive is when I’m most horny and I know that there is a possibility that I’m going to be allowed to orgasm – the control being offered acting as a stimulus to my sexual arousal (which often builds onto itself the longer that my orgasm builds). The other extreme case is when I know my Dom/Domme is near orgasm. If something I say triggers something in them while they orgasm, then it gets worked into my ‘fantasy bank’ and I repeat it at a later time, if it’s not brought up before then. Another big one is if you have a submissive fairly chaste, their mind will process and process and process dozens of these fantasies.

Some submissives are too ashamed or afraid to mention these – either they fear being accused of topping from the bottom (which, frankly, is not a possibility), or there is something that they are sexual repressing, or fearing judgement about. Some just learn the good use of a filter too. But that doesn’t change that those fantasies are present, and always evolving based on keys and cues from the one in Control in their lives, and from their own sexual arousal (which is activated through control as opposed to pleasure).

Many inexperienced Dom/mes get confused by this. They think it’s something that is being specifically requested. And hence how ‘topping from below’ gets thrown into describing this very natural activity. Due to the nature of submission, most would be mortified if they felt their ideas were being heard as requests. They ultimately just want to show the extents of their devotion, how far they want to be pushed, and how free the Dom/me is to explore – at their pleasure and enjoyment only. It’s the submissives way of opening up possibilities of routes, not giving them a direct map to their submissive button. This can often lead to damaged egos.

As a bit of a sidebar here…there is a new bit of lingo that says that the only way that a submissive can top from the bottom is if someone is bottoming from the top. Truer words were never spoken! A Dominant is there to control things – that’s ultimately what is desired. There are situations where that’s applicable outside the contexts of what is being discussed here.

But this whole fantasy drop blitz is just a natural way of sharing intimate, unfiltered, fantasies. Personally, I enjoy supporting it’s use to discover super dark inner fantasies and soft limits that they are willing to let you push in the right situation. It’s great ‘dirty talk’. Due to the very numerous quantity of these, they couldn’t possibly know which one you were planning even minutes before you do it. That will cause their mind to wander back through what they’ve told you. But please, don’t mistake me here – the fantasy for submissives and slaves is 95% of the time the control as opposed to the subject of the fantasy. The subject is simply one vessel you can use to get to it. The actual activities that one wants to enjoy outside of the control relationship are less likely to come out when they are already keyed in to being submissive, so there’s no real worries of confusing the two.

I would welcome hearing any thoughts supporting or opposing this view actually. I may very well put this up on fetlife once I get a decent enough understanding of how well english came through despite my flu and the medication covering it up.

Valued Attempts

Upon learning of a particular local’s penchant for feet, trampling, and service, I got a little curious.

After a quick chat in person, and online, I felt he might be a good option for a service submissive/slave for myself. Other than a quick meet whereby he got a quick ‘how-to’ on doing a french pedicure, we have yet to really play. I let him try it on me. On review of my thinking…perhaps I ought to have him continue practice on himself before moving to more delicate, small feet. Some toes had more paint, than toenail itself which left me giggling inside too much to really be hard driven and forceful about it all. But yes, he shall be practicing more. It will benefit him, as much as me, to have that skill.

As with all my playmates, I have him speaking in the third person when referring to himself. This task is like a placeholder of mine which shows me the quality of the ball I’m about to attend. Will there be effort? Will it be perfection? And what are the natural unique tendencies of each one? It’s funny to see how people handle this task. I’m pretty specific in my rules that it should read “The slave”, or “this slave”, “it”, “This one”. Generally, I get “slave” (without the ‘the’ or ‘this’), “him” which quantifies sex. While I do prefer men, and specifically more masculine males, I do like to at least verbally dehumanize, and effectively neuter my playthings. In other words, ‘it’ is preferable to ‘him’. But then, sometimes it’s about the attempt, moreso than the actual result. The attempts are there!

This is another guy who is just submissive to me, without me requiring to do a great deal. From the first show of control with him calling me Domina or Ma’am…and he was sitting on the floor in a submissive (furry, but that’s another story) heap. It’s not that I don’t want to do anything, or that I won’t do anything…but it’s good to not have to and still have my needs met, yanno (goofy accent and all).

It might have helped that I was wearing 7″ heels and he’s a foot fetishist.

But when he offered to brave the wind and rain to get me an energy drink so that I could stay up with the young’uns, I just wanted to melt out of my cheesy nun costume. And while he didn’t do it to get my praise, it wasn’t a great deal out of his way given that it was just about a 2 minute walk, or attention from the peanut gallery, it tickled me innocent a bit that people overheard him offering his service.

Nice boy.

Electronic Connection

“NOOOOO…” he tried to scream. It didn’t come out quite the way he intended with the dildo gag in his mouth. The gag wasn’t the reason for his attempts at fighting her, it was that he knew he was paying good money and this Mistress, whom he had been seeing for over a year once a month at least, was going out on his dime.

“Now, now, cocktease, let Mistress Elaina get ready for her date. You wouldn’t want me to not look my best, now would you?” She knew exactly why he was fighting her, but she also knew there was little he could now do. He had been wrapped with pallet wrap, and several layers of duct tape on top of that. Didlo gag in his mouth, propped up on his side just in case he needed…drainage of the spittle caused by the gag.

She smiled thinking about what would come next for this pathetic man who was a bit too arrogent for her to be want to handle at times.

She sat in a chair next to him with a mirror and did a few last adjustments on her eyelashes, lipstick, and hair. That’s when she rummaged through his coat for his phone. She used it to dial a number. Her own phone began to ring, which she answered with the other hand. She then pushed speaker on his phone and set it up near him so that he could hear her and what was going on around her.

“If you need anything, just scream as loud as you can – I *might* hear you” She joked as she left the room to leave for the evening, putting the phone carefully into her pocket so that nothing would accidentally hang up the phone.

She put her boots on, and teased a little more “My feet were all primed and ready for a great deal of pampering until you opened your mouth you stupid cunt”. She hated how he could affect her sometimes. His attempts at leveling the playing field pushed just the right buttons. Well, she knew exactly how to deal with that.

He thrashed around a little as she closed the door. The realization that she was going through with this – leaving him alone, tied up. He still didn’t understand what was happening. He did know why though.

He cursed himself for temporarily loosing control of himself. It was so hard for him to submit from will alone. His whole existance nurtured the power hungry, arrogant asshole he was with everyone else. A facade which earned him a reputation, disloyalty, but all the money he could ever need. Unfortunately, it wasn’t money he needed. He needed Mistress Elaina’s strong hand. So stupid, he thought and thrashed around in his bonds, more out of self-loathing than an attempt to escape.

“Settle down.” He heard her soft voice through the phone. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour, maybe two.”

He did as she told him to and resigned himself to an unmoving silence. His quiet place. She purposely did not blindfold him so that he would see her before she left the house he suspected, but she did turn out all the lights.

He heard a car pull up outside, and Mistress Elaina clearly could be heard opening and closing the door. There was a double kissing noise, so they probably kissed each other on the cheek.

“Elaina! Breathtaking as always.” A male voice filtered through, clearly happy to see her.

“Oh the power of taking your breath away” she said cutely. He loved her quirky little remarks. Who was he kidding, he loved her.

The conversation between the pair was mostly innocent. He didn’t know if this was an old friend, or a prospective submissive, or a potential lover. He didn’t want to speculate. But their conversation didn’t indicate they were kinky, or it was to be something sexual. Other than a slight toying tone in their conversation by times, there was no indication of any close connection on their levels.

He heard the man get up from the table – legs scuffling on the tile flooring making the most aggrevating noise as possible. Odd that he take such relief from that thought.

“Cumslut, if you’re alright thrash about as you can.” Thrashing was forthcoming on his part.

“Good boy. But I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson quite yet, bitch. You will though…soon.”

“There, I got the bill while I was up. Would you like a ride home now?” He could hear Elaina’s facial smile and within minutes he heard the car doors opening and closing.

Next thing he could hear was kissing noises – super passionate ones. A zipper went down, which was not Mistress Elaina’s as she was wearing a skirt when she left.

He thrashed around more. He couldn’t hear her fucking another man. Especially after he had treated her so poorly. His mind searched the recesses to figure out how he could apologize and make up for his stupidity. Her moaning interrupted his thoughts.

He was both appalled and compelled at what he heard. He wanted her himself, but knew that as long as he was a paying client that would never happen. And she wouldn’t allow him to be her official submissive unless he was better at retaining his submissive self.

Her orgasm didn’t take long. A tear left his eye and traveled through the pallet wrap pooling near his nose. He tried to bend his feet up to kick the phone against the wall – uncaring that it would cost him a fortune to replace it once he broke it – but it didn’t work. He could only bend about 6″, which was at least a few feet off still.

Her second orgasm found him numb. Numb to her pleasure at anothers ‘hand’, numb to her methods of tempering his ego, and numb to his anger. The next thing he remembers hearing is the car door closing, seconds before hearing her walk up the front steps, and into her front door.

She walked in to him, and lit a few candles. He bust out in tears with emotion to her returning to him after she had been fucked by another man. “Awww….honey. I know, I know” She said rubbing his back – him still not able to speak. “But sometimes, you forget who owns who here.”

She reached around and undid the gag from his mouth. He was distracted with his locked jaw. When he looked back at her, she had her finger at the ready for him to suckle on. He longed to worship any part of her that he would allow her to and gladly started to suck on her finger – making eye contact. That’s when he tasted it. The other man’s cum.

She touched his face, after he had loyally sucked it clean of another man’s cum. She then opened his mouth and jaw with that hand, and put the condom in his mouth as it had once entered her. He could taste her exquisite womanhood mixed with latex and lube. He moaned longingly remembering her taste – which was by far better than the strange man. Mistress Elaina worked it so just the tip was left in his mouth, and squeezed the contents out onto her hand.

“You are my cum dumpster, got it? You’re going to take that other man’s cum, and thank me for it, understand?” She raised her hand up so that he could lick it – just out of his reach. He got her eye contact and knew she meant for him to work for it. He wiggled towards the most humiliating task she had asked him to do, and he did it hungrily – not for his cum…but to get back in her good graces. To be considered her anything – even if not her lover, as he would have preferred.

“Good boy” She said, turning him over, and climbing on top of his face. “If you ever have the nerve to talk to me that way again, you’ll be taking his cum straight from the source.”

He looked up at her, delighted that she was allowing this to happen. She never allowed her clients sexual contact. Such a lucky cumslut, he thought to himself. “So lucky.”

Please Read…

Early on Friday, October 20th, one of the first people I met in the community passed away.

He leaves behind his loving Domme, whom he adored.

Unfortunately, he does not leave behind any money to pay for his funeral arrangements. No savings, no life insurance.

It kills me to think of what she’s been going through – firstly coping with realizing her partner has died, secondly, having to tell family and friends what happened, and finally having to find the money to bury the love of her life. Devastating.

I wanted to post this here in case some people who read my blog who don’t know them were interested in donating a little something to help a grieving woman get back to grieving without the financial burden….

http://www.stuffmadeincanada.com/memorial.html

Please donate what you can. If you prefer the financial domination angle in order to do that, I’m forever the humanitarian. I’d be more than happy to oblige.

My Kind of Dominance

When most people conjure up images of a Dominant female in their minds, the first visuals they get are physically powerful women who dress is all black (with the exception of a splashing of red or purple), bright red lips, and smokey eyes. They don more fishnets than most trawlers on the Atlantic Ocean. I get an image of stilettos and riding crops, and faces so cold that ice couldn’t melt in the room where they sit.

Personality-wise, my feeling is that people believe that Dominant female doesn’t give a shit what what people think of them, or what the submissive wants. They will have what they want, no matter what. They are bitches. They are go-getters. They are manipulative. They are harsh, strong, and do no wrong. They are an island, and there is an idea that they tend to not care about their submissives, and aren’t affected by the adoration of them.

They demand what they want, and punish those who don’t get it. Usually severely – abusing cock and balls, verbal humiliation, blackmail.

Anyone with any relationship experience within the lifestyle (ie., not pro-domme situations), you know better. Yet in the recesses of our minds, that image persists on some level. It is perhaps to some an ideal.

It was for a short while the end goal for me. Then I started processing what I knew of relationships, effective behavior modification, my personal strengths and weaknesses, my desires and interests, in order to get to what it was that I wanted. And by the processes end, I discovered that I was very much the opposite of what the traditional image is. Well…I do love leather and latex on a fetish level, and I can rock a pair of 6″ heels like there’s no tomorrow. That part is the only resembling feature.

Most people see Dominant women as having higher expectations than the person can provide just so that in every interaction there’s some sort of punishment required. See, I don’t believe in punishing. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t consequences to one’s actions, and it doesn’t mean I’m going to allow someone to ‘get away’ with things. If one acts against my expectations, they are not worthy of my efforts, and I send them away until they are willing to abide by the rules, or depending on my mood, just permanently. Perhaps they just want something different than I want, and I’m aware enough that what I want is not run of the mill or ‘normal’. All I know is that I don’t want to spend my time baiting people so that I can then become a warden and enforcer. I don’t understand how that can bring pleasure to anyone. I want to enjoy my sadism, D/s, and ‘play’ as much as possible with the time that I have available without doing it with the smoke screen of someone not living up to my expectations. I want that person to be worthy of my dominant energy, my trust, my inner self. I’m certainly not going to waste my dominant energy giving someone who isn’t willing to be submissive exactly what they want (which will only serve to encourage their non-submissive actions).

I know that if I want someone to do as I wish, I am to engage in positive reinforcement, and a little bit of Jungian armchair psychological analysis. I figure out what they want, and I provide it. When their needs and desires are getting tickled, they will do anything to continue that interaction. That kind of experience, built slowly, is hard to sway – even with the hurricane of new Dominant women who inevitable will blow across their paths.

Getting what you want in the now is easy in the short run, with most cheapened style of dominance, but the loyalty that comes from it is temporary, and an illusion which is easily changed. The only control you have over someone else is as much as they want you to have. As soon as you step over the limits of the control they want you to have, you no longer have any control. And only so many people have that much energy for a bitch. Most people want someone they can hold, that empathizes, that has compassion. Yes, even the submissive whom wants to be degraded, and made to feel as low as a worm beneath ones feet. Without that human connection, it’s meaningless and they will always long for the bigger bitch to be able to do it more harshly. With someone that they build a relationship with? A natural progression paralleling the depths of commitment can be reached – with the right Domme of course.

Another way that shows my straying from the typical is that I provide what the submissive wants at times. A lot of male subs sing the song of “I just want to do whatever you want me to do”. Sure. I can appreciate that on all levels. Rest assured, I will do only what I want to do. But part of that is knowing how to reward a submissive. It’s also a key to knowing how to bring about those submissive feelings to remind them of their place, and more specifically, mine. Besides that, give me some credit – I can be creative, and I can make the experience my own. I want to satiate their appetite, and leave their mouth salivating when they think of me. Sometimes that comes from being the fantasy they have in their minds and giving them exactly what they want. There’s nothing wrong with a Dominant giving someone what they want. Hell…I’m into this because I’m a control fetishist ultimately. I like having the ultimate say in what is going to happen. And what better way to get someone to do as you wish than to without question give them a true taste of what they long for…at your hand? They will want for more.

Softness, vulnerability, insecurities – these are part of being feminine. I don’t want to resemble a male in my playground. I love being a woman and everything that means – flirting, men wanting to take care of me, opening up to possible rejection. I’m not a bitch (though I can play one in the right scene). Most people who see me as a bitch generally are engaging in a whole lot of transference of their ideas of a typical Domme onto me. Anyone who takes the time to get to know me knows instantly of my warmth, my encouragement, and how far I would go to help someone achieve their goals. I give a shit about people, folks. I feel. What’s more important, is I know that’s okay and it is what makes me a great Domme.

Despite my tendency to get drawn into leadership roles in the community, I’m remarkably shy to the point that I have trouble making eye contact for a while. I usually let other people draw the spotlight when at group events, except where it’s necessary for me to do so (ie., a class I’m teaching). The voyeur in me is strong and gets a lot of sexual energy from doing so, actually. But even one on one with a submissive, I tend to prefer them to assist in creating the roles. I require a submissive to speak a certain way, act a certain way, which then provides me with the Dominant energy to ask, and demand, what I want…to play in a way that I desire. In order to be able to show the darker sides of my Dominance, I need to feel close to someone. This takes communication, trust, and more than a cheap interaction. Sure, I can play with a stranger as well as the next person (given my experience, possibly better), but why would I want to?

And the most bizarre thing about me…I sit in my own little cocoon a lot. I am not a social person naturally. One has to really make oneself stand out in order to gain any interest from me. This is a challenge for most male submissives who are taught to sit back and wait to be picked out by a Dominant partner. I have to be convinced to meet before I’m willing to agree to it. And even then, the submissive has to make the plans, and engage in submissive behaviors before I’m willing to reveal the Dominant in me. To some, I am worth the work. To some, they don’t know, so don’t bother. Perhaps that’s my learned filter to save myself the time alone I’ve come to value (in moderation, of course).

So yes, I’m different than the perception. I’ve always been a bit of a rebel.

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