Episode 6 of The Gentle Dommecast: Vivian Has a Literary Fantasy and HUMP!

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We think it’s Episode 6 of the podcast! We are correct.

In this episode we went off track a little and discussed some things that were just on our minds. Okay. They were on my mind. The Rough Subbe just went along with me because I told him we had to do a podcast.

First, we talk about this book I can’t get out of my head called The Fortress, by S.A. Jones, and we discuss the femdom fantasies it inspired in me.

Second, we talk about Dan Savage’s HUMP film festival, which is live streaming until March 6th. We saw it right after we recorded the podcast. We talk about what HUMP is and the experience of seeing it live. Hopefully, we will again next year!

Pulling Back the Curtain: No. I’m Not Always Turned On By Your Painful Testicles.

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

I read this article yesterday, by Jessie Sage, and it really resonated with me. The title is Sex Workers Are Not Your Girlfriend.

I notice that some men really need to believe that I’m sexually enjoying myself when I talk to them. And I totally get that. Obviously, you want the person you’re interacting with in a sexual way to seem excited and interested in what you’re doing. Even if it’s that you want to believe they’re enjoying your humiliation.

And usually, I really am excited and interested. I’m excited to provide a good service. I look at what I do on the phone and through text as service topping–meaning that I am topping for someone else’s desires.

That doesn’t mean that MY desires don’t sometimes intersect with the people I’m talking to! They very often do, and I often have a lot of fun dominating men through phone and sometimes text. (Text is just more difficult to form that connection.) But when I talk to men, my focus is on them. It’s not really on me, even if they want to believe it is. It HAS to be on them because I want them to enjoy themselves.

I sort of feel like it’s dangerous to say that. It’s pulling back the curtain on a secret that perhaps I shouldn’t reveal. Because so many men want to believe that they are satisfying me and that all of our interactions are about MY pleasure. They say they want to worship me. They say they want to serve me. They say they will do anything for me! They really want to know that I’m enjoying myself, that this turns me on.

But, really, these are the most difficult calls I have with people because they either give me no sense of what the caller actually wants or they expect ME to be sexually excited by essentially service topping them. I get so many questions in the vein of “You really like this, huh? This really turns you on. Doesn’t it! You love me hitting my balls for you (even though CBT is not an actual IRL kink of mine)!”

The truth is that however I might be served or worshipped in person, we aren’t in person. So we are limited to fantasy and however one can serve or worship through the phone. And while I might find it fun to humiliate a guy or talk about pegging or chastity or whatever, I might not be in the mood to feel sexy, and my focus is really on reading his cues and needs–not my own.

In fact, if I did focus on MY sexuality during most of my calls, callers would get bored because I wouldn’t be present for them. I would be focusing on what I need to come and not what THEY need to come…or not come, depending on their preferences.

And realistically, most of these men don’t really want to make me feel good. I mean, they don’t want to make me feel BAD! It’s just that it’s not really about me. It’s about them–rightfully so. They’re paying for it! They get off on “serving” and “worship” in general. And that’s totally cool, and I love to make that exciting for them. But we are really playacting. When you worship my feet, you aren’t really there worshipping my feet. We’re just imagining.

If you really wanted to please me or serve me, you would tip me to the best of your comfort level, because that is real! I can really see the money you send me. It helps me meet my weekly goal I set for myself. But it’s hard for me to ask for that because then it sounds like I’m not there to have fun and enjoy myself and enjoy dominating men just for my own kicks.

I don’t consider myself a findom but I also won’t pretend that I don’t love men who are heavy tippers or who buy lots of my goodies or have long or frequent calls with me. It is the REALEST way online that you can show you actually appreciate and enjoy me. And I definitely do give special attention to guys who demonstrate that they think I’m worthwhile.

It seems like what a lot of guys want to believe is that I’m just doing this for fun because I love dominating men. That the money is irrelevant. And in fact, I do like dominating men. But I don’t really consider what I do on the phone as domination. I consider it play domination. Ultimately, the people who call me are clients. While it’s true that there should always be enthusiastic consent for all kink play, the inherent nature of money changing hands changes the dynamic–for me. So, while I am in control, I also need to consider the person’s happiness so he wants to talk to me again.

In my real life, I do what I want to do with my partners (within our agreed upon boundaries). I’m not “ON” all the time. And a lot of what we might do together might look kind of boring to outsiders. And if pleasure is focused on me, I just get to relax and enjoy it. It’s not a performance.

I also don’t talk to my clients about my problems. Talking to me an is escape for most people. It’s not that a lot of them don’t want to know me, but they want to know the BEST me, the fun fantasy me. Not the bitchy me with PMS or the sick me or the me who snores. (I do not snore. That is a total lie!)

My best clients are people who see me as a person, really enjoy what I do and how I make them feel, show me appreciation financially to the best of their abilities (I recognize that people have different financial situations), and simply like that I give them a feeling they want. They don’t nag me to have an orgasm or ask for constant assurances that I’m enjoying myself. I enjoy myself if I can tell that you’re enjoying yourself.

It doesn’t hurt if you are also polite and funny. And or look cute in panties.

Cake: A Femdom Erotica Story

Photo by Polina Tankilevitch from Pexels

I call Theo from the car. “Is it on yet?”

“I didn’t know you wanted me to wear it!”

We’ve been navigating our way into chastity. He isn’t fully locked down, and I admit sometimes I forget to tell him when to put his cage on and take it off. I’m a lazy domme sometimes.

“Yes. Yes! Quickly now. Put it on. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I hear him rustling around in the background. “I’ll have to put the phone down, ma’am. My hands get all slippery from the lube I need.”

“It’s okay, pet. I’ll meet you at the front door.” I turn off my car’s Bluetooth phone and glance over at the paper bag on the passenger’s seat and grin.

At Theo’s door, I ring the bell, and he answers immediately. He’s naked, except for his metal cock cage. It’s a bird cage. I chose it so I can tease him and touch his cock and watch it try to swell through the bars.

“I could have been anyone,” I say to him, as I step into his house and hand him the paper bag.

“I knew it was you. I could see your car.”

“Still. You can’t be too careful. There could be crazy cougars on the loose just waiting to pounce on unsuspecting young men.” I kiss him hard on the lips and give his cage a tug. “Like me.”

Theo moans.

Our age gap isn’t horrifically wide, but I met him while I was teaching college and he was a graduate student. Not mine, which made things a lot less complicated.

“What’s in the bag, Theo?”

“I don’t know, ma’am,” He grins. “What’s in the bag?”

“You’ll have to open it to find out.”

I’m getting very excited now. I love surprises, and I love that moment right before someone discovers the surprise. I always want to rush it, and then I ruin it. So, I just wait.

Theo puts the bag down in the kitchen counter and reaches inside. He pulls out a plastic container.

“Cheesecake! Thank you ma’am!”

It’s his favorite. New York style cheesecake with strawberry glazed topping.

“I’ll have it for dessert tonight.” He moves to put the cake in the fridge, but I stop him, using my body to block his way. The fabric of my skirt brushes against his nakedness and he moans a little.

“No, my pet.” I hold his cock over its cage and he gasps. “I’ll have YOU for dessert. Right now.”

Now, let me tell you something about Theo.

Theo loves cheesecake.

But Theo also hates getting messy.

He is fastidious to the point of annoyance. His house is spotless. He cleans daily. If I put down a coffee mug on the counter, he wipes the ring after I pick it up. His clothes are always neatly pressed, organized in the closet by color on matching hangers. His towels are each evenly folded. He uses only hand soap in bottles to avoid any soap scum in his tub. He is always clean shaven yet there are never any stray hairs by the sink. His hair is always groomed.

Honestly, I like this about Theo. Sometimes he cleans my house too, and he does a better job than the cleaning service I employ. I like that he is always well groomed. He shaves his pubic hair too, which makes some things much more…sensitive…and also easy to access.

But, I’m sadistic.

Just a little.

I like pushing buttons.

And this button has just been begging to be pushed since our first date when he asked me take off my shoes before entering his house. They were very pretty heels, and I’d picked them out just to arouse him.

So today I’m going to push the button.

I’ve still got my hand over Theo’s cage. I can feel the flesh of his cock straining through the bars. He’s breathing heavily.

“Oh, ma’am.” He’s gazing at me. I love how he gazes at me.

I take the container of cheesecake out of his hand.

“I want you to go into your bedroom, strip everything but the bottom sheet off the bed and lie down on your bed, face up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, as I relax my grip. He goes trotting off up the stairs, and I call after him.

“Throw the sheets on the floor.”

I hear him stop. “Throw them?” He sounds pained. “On the floor?”

“Yes. On the floor. Right on the floor, Theo.”

He sighs loudly, and I shiver. Oh, this is going to be fun.

I give him a moment, and then I follow with the cheesecake, up the stairs of his small, clean house to his bedroom, where he has indeed laid the coverlet and top sheet of his bed on the floor of his room. Thrown might be an overstatement, but that’s okay. There’s a lot more fun to be had.

Theo is on his bed, as requested. He is lying face up, totally naked aside from his cock cage. I see a drop of moisture on the head of it, just hanging there. He is beautiful to me. I love that he’s mine. And yet there’s something inside of me that wants to hurt him a little too—to dirty that fastidious nature up.

I strip quickly, efficiently. I’m eager to get to it. I don’t hang my clothes up. I make sure Theo sees that they are lying on the floor, haphazardly.

Theo has bondage straps under his bed, and I take our usual cuffs out of his bedside drawer and quickly clip him into place, spread-eagled on the bed. All the while he’s just following me with his eyes. Waiting. He trusts me.

Then I get on the bed with him. Next to him.

I bring the cheesecake.

“Cheesecake in bed?” He seems a little nervous.

I open the container. “Yes. Why?”

“I just don’t eat in bed,” he says, weakly.

“I know,” I say. “But I do.”

“But…” He stops. He bites his lip.

“But?” He knows he’s not supposed to question me during playtime. He has a safe word he can use. Outside of that, it’s my game and I make the rules. I give his balls a quick, light swat, and he gasps, whimpers. The thing is I know he likes it, so it’s more funishment than anything. But it sends a signal.

I put the container of cheesecake right down on his stomach, and I reach in with my fingers.

“Would you like a fork?” he asks.

“No. I’m fine using my hands, thank you.” It is all I can do to keep myself from laughing, watching his worried face as I delve into the rich, creamy, smeary substance of the cake with my fingers.

“Some napkins?”

“No thanks.” I take out a chunk with two fingers and stick them into my mouth, sucking off the dessert. It tastes good.

“Mmmmm. It’s delicious,” I say to Theo. “Would you like some? You would like some. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes ma’am?” It’s more of a question or a plea, but we both know he’s going to eat it one way or another.

“Of course you would.” I dip my fingers in again. “Open up, baby.” I put two cake covered fingers into Theo’s mouth, making sure to smear a little cake against his cheek as I do so.

Cake that he cannot wipe off, because his hands are tied.

“It is good,” he admits. He sucks on my fingers a little too long for just the cake, and I can tell his cock is really straining through the bars now. Still, he is flustered. He loves sucking my fingers. He loves the attention. But he hates the disorder.

“You missed some,” I tell him, and lean in to give him a big kiss. I bite at his lips and he pulls upward for more of me. He is attracted and repulsed at the same. I make sure to leave his face messier than when I found it.

“You know how I like to eat my cake?” I ask him.

“How?” He frowns. I’m in heaven.

“Off my pet, of course.”

“Of course,” he says, resigned.

And with that I take a gob of the cake in my hand and wipe it all over the cock cage.

He whimpers. “Yes, please.” And then “Oh, god.”

And I am between his legs darting my slippery tongue between the bars of the cage, taking small licks off the metal and the struggling flesh underneath dying to get free.

A piece of cake “falls” onto his bedsheet. “Oh.” I feign surprise. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to get your bed dirty.”

I pick up the piece and smear it on his chest instead. Then I lick it off, leaving him sticky. He sighs deeply.  And then I’m back to his cock, sucking on what there is to suck at, putting my entire mouth over the head of the cage and just leaving it there so he can feel the warm wet of me without the pressure his cock craves.  

Then I abandon all pretense of accident and smear cake pretty much anywhere I want on his body. And some on mine. He shivers and writhes, and I think some of it is out of lust and some disgust.

I put it on my tits and I learn over his mouth and tell him to suck. And he does. Very eagerly. My tits are very clean when he’s done and my pussy is wanting. I put some on his balls and lick them gently. They are so full, and he’s moaning.

“I love this,” he says. “I hate this.”

“I know, pet,” I say. “And I love that you love it and hate it. Don’t you like making me happy?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He is resigned. “I do. You know I do.”

“You know what comes next,” I say. It’s obvious. I don’t have to make him guess. He knows what I’m going to do, and he welcomes it.

“Say, please,” I say.


“Please what?”

“Please sit on my face. Please let me worship your pussy. Please let me taste you.”

“It’s going to be very messy,” I say. “I’m very wet, and, it’s going to be very sticky. It’s going to get all over your face.”

“I know,” he says. “I still want it. I need it. Please.”

I don’t want cake inside me, but I smear it all over the insides of my thighs and even get in some of the strawberry compote, and then I straddle his face backwards, facing his cock, my pussy and ass on his face, making sure to coat him with cake and with me. And then his hot tongue is buried inside of me, his lips sucking at mine, licking me clean and dirty at the same time. I can’t stop moaning. I grab backwards with my sugary hands in his hair, grind my clit against his chin, only giving him time for short breaths before I use his mouth, his face again. He’s moaning into me, and I have to check to make sure he’s saying more and not that he’s suffocating. But it’s more that he’s asking for. More. More. More.

His caged cock is bobbing in front of me, and I decide it’s time for the pièce de résistance of my little performance art exhibit. The cage key is on the bedside table next to us, and I take it and lean down, sixty-nining, so I can reach his cock.

“Don’t stop,” I remind him, as I manage to take off the lock and squeeze him out and through the cage. But I don’t have to remind him because he is thoroughly engrossed in my cunt.  

Now his cock is free, and he’s doubly enthused. But he is literally covered in cake and compote and its remnants. We’re both coated in sugar and cream. I sit back so he can have total access to my pussy with his mouth again, and I take a last glob of the strawberry jelly and use it as lube for his cock, milking his shaft with the wet, viscous substance not so unlike in texture what he’s licking from my pussy.

I’m getting closer. My hand is still lightly resting around his cock, but he’s basically just struggling to fuck it now, bucking up into it and trying to get the friction he needs as I grind down hard on his face, my orgasm swelling inside me. It’s really just the barest of touch.

I cry out as I come, and I snatch my hand from his cock at the same time, but too late for him to stop himself. He comes too. Frustratingly so.  Without relief or anything to rub against, shooting into the air and all over his legs and belly and sheets. It is a perfect ruined orgasm. He’ll be left horny and aching and wanting, just the way I like him.

My legs are shaky when I climb off him, and he is shaky from effort and unfulfilled desire. And maybe we’re both coming down from a sugar high. I manage to unclip his cuffs from the bondage system, and we lie next to one another, me sated and sticky, him a whimpering mess into my neck.

“Ma’am, that was amazing,” he whispers into my ear.

“You were such a good boy,” I tell him, honestly. “I know you didn’t like it.”

“I didn’t,” he admits. “But I did. I did like it ma’am. I did and I didn’t.”

He nuzzles against me. He is adoring, still horny, his shaft thick against me.

He wants to come and he doesn’t.

He wants relief and he doesn’t.

He wants to be clean and he doesn’t.

He is a mess of contradictions I love.


“Yes, Theo.”

“Can I clean us up, please?”

“Of course, baby,” I say, idly stroking his still hard, desperate cock, feeling it twitch in my palm.

“As long as you use your tongue.”

Episode 5 of The Gentle Dommecast: Money and Men

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Money and Men

It’s Episode 5 of The Gentle Dommecast! This week The Rough Subbe and I are talking about money and men! 

First, we discuss the role of money in a kinky relationship. Should submissive guys expect to pay tributes to possible dominants? We also talk about clarifying exactly what you’re looking for if you’re a man searching for a “Mistress,” and how that plays into the role of money within that search. 

We bring up findom, and I come to no particular decision about it except that I think I’m bad at it. We also touch on emotional labor and sex work in a pandemic economy.

Then we move on to talking about submissive men and masculinity. Does being a submissive man make you less “masculine?” What about desires for emasculation in kink? And how do societal expectations about what is “masculine” and “feminine” play into these questions and anxieties?

The Gentle Domme on YouPorn Erotica


Hello, my Darling Deviants!

I have an announcement to make! You can now find some of my written erotica on YouPorn’s new erotica site under The Gentle Domme’s Sensual Femdom Stories and Fantasies! Stories are still be added, as some are still under review. More should become available in the days to come.

I’m still holding back some stories under the delusion that I’m eventually going to publish them all in a collection. But that would mean that I would have the TIME to do that, which I do not seem to have!

So, in the mean time, you can visit my new channel and read my stories there. In addition, I have them published here, and I have a few up on Literotica. I had some intention of posting more at Literotica, but that also got sidelined because my life is basically all smut all the time.

And I know many readers would like more about Joyce and Adam. I am still so into them, and I would love to continue their kinky romance. I really need to take a week off and just work on writing, but the allure of creating audio smut is strong. And writing takes mental energy that I don’t think I have right now.

So, soon, my lovelies! Soon!

Free Audio Smut: Your Task For Today

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A Little Free Audio Smut in Honor of Our Former Presidents, Except One in Particular

I haven’t made a free audio in a while. This one is an audio recording of yesterday’s first person story I wrote for a little Valentine’s Day present. 😉

Can you make it through this entire audio recording without coming? If I tell you not to come? Even while you watch me stroke your cock? Suck on it? You do have quite the oral fixation. Don’t you, baby? So, maybe I should give your something….else…to suck on.

I didn’t label this gentle femdom because of the encouraged bi, but I don’t think of this as humiliating at all. I love bisexual guys. So, unless you think of being lovingly called a cock slut as humiliating (which I don’t), there’s no humiliation in this audio.

Your Task For Today

Photo by Mike from Pexels

Your task for today is to make it through reading this entire document without coming.

Sounds easy, you say. It’s just a page. Or two. Do I think you have no control?

Of course, I’m going to be stroking your cock as you read.

Feel it? My soft hand. Wrapped around your cock. Slippery with the lube I applied just a moment ago?

See my pretty polish? Black. My winter color. Such a contrast against your pale cock, although I think that even now as the blood is flowing in, it’s turning an ever more solid shade of pink or purple.

You can do it. I know you can. You’re my good boy.

Say it. “I’m your good boy. I can follow directions. I can be obedient.”

See. I know you.

I know you want to make it because I gave you clear instructions, even though part of you knows I don’t. Part of me wants you to fail because then I know I have complete control over you.

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t resist me.

Let’s see what side wins out.

You can look. You can take a peek over the screen if you want to see one finger teasing the head of your cock in that special place. You know the one. Right there. That place where I can just gently stroke a half of an inch in either direction and soon you’ll be leaking for me. Moaning.

There it is. Isn’t it? Right there.

Can you feel the anticipation starting to build? Your cock starting to twitch in my grasp, trying in vain to thrust, if only I would let it. Maybe a little droplet of pre-cum sliding out of the hole, running down your shaft like a little tear of joy.

You can thrust for me, baby. Just a little. I don’t mind humoring you. You can pretend it’s my pussy you’re fucking, or my mouth. After all, it’s so close. I could just lean down and….

…well, don’t get ahead of yourself.

Go on. Thrust for me. Hump my hand. You’re getting desperate enough to do it now. Aren’t you? Even though you know you look vaguely ridiculous. Straining upwards. Biting your lip. Humping my hand like my eager pet and concentrating hard dying to get there and trying to hold back because I told you.

You’re not to come until you finish reading this out loud.

Awww. Are you blushing? I think you are. Don’t hold back. I love to see you blush for me.

Even if I were to lean down. My hair brushing over your thighs. My hot breath so close to your cock.

And then.

One lick. Just one little lick. You can take it. Can’t you?

Even though your balls are starting to tighten, to ache. Even though you can practically feel the come rising into your shaft. That’s just an illusion. It’s still neatly tucked away inside you, and it’s only to come out when I say.

And then I’ll get you nice and empty for me. Then I’ll milk you dry.

But first.

Let’s just think about something.

Something a little naughty. Something that I know you want.

My mouth down here doing a little bit more than licking. Oh, yes. Taking the head of your cock into my mouth and sucking. Gently. Nursing at your cock. Not too much pressure. Not too little. Just enough to keep you exactly where I want you without going over.

It’s a lot. But you can manage it. I know.

But then.

Let’s add an idea. I think you know the one.

It’s the one where you open your mouth nice and wide. And get ready to suck.

You do have quite the oral fixation, baby. It could be my fingers. It could be a gag. It could be my strap-on. But any way, you’d be eagerly lapping at whatever I placed in that orifice and really giving it your all.

But let’s be more specific.

It’s not my fingers. It’s not the gag, tempting as it may be to hear your muffled moans underneath it. It’s not my strap-on.


It’s cock.

It’s hot, thick, veiny real bio-cock attached a to a very nice but rather insistent man that you’re going to drain him. That you’re going to be a very good boy and help him come in your mouth.

Can you feel it. How he twitches? How he pushes. How he holds the back of your head and pulls you closer, thrusting deeper and deeper, harder and harder into the back of your throat.

Try not to gag. It’s unbecoming. Although I know it’s hard not to. You are a bit of a cock slut. Aren’t you?

You can say it. “I’m a cock slut. I’m YOUR cock slut, Ma’am.”

And yes you are, baby. And I love it.

It must be getting challenging now.

Thinking about that nice big cock in your mouth getting so very close to spilling over.

My warm, wet mouth milking your cock. So leaky by now. So engorged. So needy.

It’s hard to remember who you are. Isn’t it?  Are you the who’s sucking or the one who’s getting sucked? Are you the one who’s taking or the one who’s getting taken? Maybe you’re both. Your cock says you’re both.

And now we’re getting to the end of this little story. You’ve almost made it, and if you can just finish, you’ll get such a lovely reward.

That nice insistent man is ready. You’re going to feel him pulse in your mouth, and then hear his groan and he’s going to flood your mouth with come. And you’re going to swallow every drop like the good little slut you are.

And as you do, maybe you’re that man. Are you that man? Who needs to come? Who needs to empty himself now? Who has been my sweet, obedient boy, my delicious little pet? And gets his cock milked because he knows that I know about those urges. That I care about those urges. That he needs me to help manage them.

So difficult to control. So eager. So desperate. So wanting.

My mouth is waiting.

I Kind of Want Jessie Sage to Be My BFF: (Not in a Stalkery Way)

Check out Peepshow Media and Jessie Sage.

Tonight I’m going to be on Dating Kinky’s What Wonderful Women (and Other Humans Want) podcast.

I do NOT like being unprepared. Perhaps some may call me a control freak. Who knows? I wonder why that could be. Although I speak to many people on a daily basis, and I’ve spoken to many groups before in my former life, I’m very nervous about someone asking me live questions because I’m not sure what they will be and how I will answer.

(I may have even made a Powerpoint presentation as well as an infographic to help calm my nerves.)

A Powerpoint I may or may not have made….

So, in preparation, I listened to a lot of the back episodes of the podcast. They were great, and I’m glad that I had the inspiration. Honestly, I am so busy these days that I miss out on a lot of cool things that I WANT to explore. Hitherecatsuit has interviewed a lot of very interesting people!

Yesterday, I listed to the episode with Jessie Sage, a writer, sex worker and even fellow Niteflirt.

OMG. I loved her so much. She made me laugh. I could relate to so many of her stories, including her background in academia and how she transitioned to sex work. (I am surprised at the number of women I meet doing sex work who have that similar background.)

I was jealous of how she got a gig writing a sex column. Me! Me! Me! If anyone is looking!!! And I was super impressed at how she started her own online website focused on the sex industry.

So, I really just wanted to take this post to plug her and suggest you check out Peepshow Media. I have a feeling that if I can steal time, I’m going to be looking at it often.

Hopefully, see you tonight. Or rather…you’ll hear me tonight! Along with my over prepared informational material about finding femdoms in the wild!