Alas, Alack, Real Life Has Interceded in My Femdommery

Gentle Femdom POC Couple
Oooh. I love this. Very GFD vibe. Right? I also like the idea of featuring more POC in femdom. (I’m actually not 100% sure this photo is of a woman and man. It might be two men. But that’s okay too. 🙂 http://Photo by Joshua Mcknight from Pexels

I was working on another story for this blog, and I totally got sidetracked. I was about halfway through. This one is about exerting some control over another lady to watch her perform on a sub. It’s quite delicious. It’s somewhat of a fantasy of mine that I’ve gotten to play with a little bit in real life. But of course, you have to be careful in those situations to make sure everyone is comfortable. And I’m prone to jealousy. So, I need to feel really comfortable with the other woman. Anyway, I let it go, and now I need to get back into the right mindset to finish it. I swear to myself I will finish it this week!

The truth is that I haven’t been feeling very femdom right now. The desire comes and goes, and I’ve been distracted by quite unsexy things that have nothing to do with tying up men. Boring things-like being a human.

Honestly, I’m not that turned on by tying up men. I will do it if a partner likes it, but it doesn’t figure strongly in my fantasies. Let’s face it. 99% of men are stronger than I am. If they wanted to get free, they could, even despite my cuffs. (I’m crap with rope.) I think it’s hotter knowing that they know they could break free but CHOOSE not to. Because why would they want to get free anyway? Duh!

See. I got sidetracked again. Yes. I haven’t been consumed with sexy femdom fantasies as of late, which makes it hard to write here. But I’ve been pleased that my audience is growing a little. (I think it’s the sexy stories, you dirty lovely perverts.) So, I DO want to keep writing!

I still only get spam comments. So, if you’re reading and there’s something you’d like to hear about, let me know! I’ll either say yes or no, but I promise not to be mean about it unless you want me to be mean. 😉

Sweet Weekend With My Boy

I just had a lovely weekend with my sweet boy. Yes, there was kink and debauchery, but there was also a lot of binge watching of television shows. We’re watching Atlanta right now, in which I see elements of Louie and Girls. There was also a lot of soaking up the lovely late summer weather and reading. And talking politics and silliness.

As for the debauchery, right now we are very focused on orgasm control—-his. He basically keeps himself in chastity until we see each other, and then I stretch it out until he’s going insane. It’s fun, and I admit I feel a little sad when I finally let him come. He’s incredibly eager and totally focused on me when he’s desperate, which is adorable. And I love attention! But it does get to a point where he’s aching or soooo eager that any little thing will send him over the edge. And then I usually take pity. Sometimes I think he might not want me to, though. It’s something I have to think about. Would I see him and deny him the whole time? I think it’s something he would find both exciting and scary.

We also played with some crossdressing again, which is something we haven’t done in a very long time. It was initially a fantasy of his that I tried, but I was surprised that I liked it as much as I did. But we really haven’t done much with it over a year and a half. I think it was my latest story that put it back in my mind, so I dressed him up in one of my very tight vinyl skirts and a push up bra and a wig and lipstick and had my way with him.

From the front, he still looks mostly like a man. It would take more makeup and a better wig to make a dent in that. But from the back, he looks quite feminine, and I find it sexy. This is interesting to me, because I don’t think of myself as bisexual. Still, I KNOW he IS a man. It’s not really that I don’t find women beautiful. I find many more women attractive than men. It’s just that I don’t really know what to DO with women–how to hold them, tease them, seduce them. Men are very simple, and I have had a lifetime of practice with them. Women are all very different and complex.

I really like clutching him in my vinyl skirt. I hadn’t realized before just how good gripping that fabric and the flesh that lies under it feels.

I also like being called daddy. 😉 Who knew?

Thomas Makes the Cheerleading Team

Give me an S! Give me an L! Give me a U! Give me a T!

When Thomas came home from work, I had the present wrapped and waiting on the kitchen table.

“Awww! My birthday’s not until next week, honey,” he said, shrugging off his coat. He gave me the usual kiss hello as I sat at the table observing him, and he immediately went to the pantry and got out his apron, hanging from its usual hook.

I had Thomas well-trained.

Our weeknights went as follows:

  1. Thomas would return home from work.
  2. He would give me a kiss.
  3. He would put on his apron and make us both cocktails of my choice. (Tonight it was mojitos.)
  4. Then I’d sit at the table and watch him while he prepared dinner.

Not only was he an excellent chef, he was a competent mixologist. Of course, it had taken time to train him.

I liked to watch him as he cooked. Thomas is handsome, and he knows it, and he likes subtly showing off for me…bending down a little deeper than he needs to put the chicken into the oven, reaching extra high to show off his biceps as he grabs the food processor from the top pantry shelf. I like watching and he likes being watched. And I like that he does all the work, and I get to put my feet up and enjoy the show.

But I don’t usually have wrapped presents waiting for him. He was right about that.

“This isn’t your birthday present,” I said, watching him muddle our drinks. “In fact, it’s really my present. It’s a present for you. For me.”

Thomas raised his eyebrow. He accidentally dropped a lime on the floor. “Oh!” He looked a little nervous.

Let’s just say that Thomas isn’t new to my ideas. I get a lot of ideas. About the way our relationship should be. About the way he should treat me. About the things we should do together and the things he should do to me and the things I get to do to him. And these ideas are a good part of why Thomas likes me. I know that because he tells me and because I know Thomas. I know the kind of man he is and the kind of woman he requires, and I know that I am that kind of woman.

And that gives me a lot of power.

I like power.

But that doesn’t mean that some of my ideas don’t make him nervous. In fact, that’s probably why he likes some of them so much.

“Are you nervous?” I ask. Although obviously I already know.

“No,” he says, not meeting my eyes.

“Just a little, I say.

“Not even a little.”

He crosses the kitchen and hands me my mojito. I grab his hand after my drink is safely on the table.

“Oh. I think you are,” I say. “But you can play coy if you like. Do you like to play coy, baby?”

Now the red rises in his face. He drops his eyes. “Maybe,” he admits.

I can see the bulge growing under his slacks. Like I said, I know Thomas and what he needs.

“Do you like to bend over so you can show off your ass to me when you’re making dinner?”

“Sometimes.” He gulps. The bulge grows.

“Are you my little slut?”

“Oh, Serena.” He slumps down to his knees and puts his head in my lap. “Yes. Yes I am.”

I take a sip of my drink. He’s done a good job. It’s tasty. “Yes, you are what?” I prod.

It’s barely a whisper. “Yes, I am your little slut.” He kisses my leg. “Thank you for letting me be your little slut.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” I tilt his head up so he can look into my eyes. “Do you want to see my present?”

“I do. Please. I do.”

He’s getting really excited now. It’s in his voice. He picks up the package and after I nod my head, he pretty much tears into it. Wrapping paper gets dropped on the kitchen floor. He’ll have to clean that up later, but it can wait. I admit I’m getting a little excited too about seeing his reaction.

The wrapping paper is off and how he’s opening the slim cardboard box that was underneath it.

He gives me a quizzical look as he sees what’s inside. He’s holding a few sort of shiny pieces of red, white and blue fabric and something yellow and silky underneath.

“Lay them out,” I tell him. “On the table.”

He does so, and the fabric takes shape. One red short flouncy skirt. One white tank top with a large blue monogrammed S on the front. A white pair of ankle socks. And a blond wig. In pigtails.

“Go team, go!” I bat my eyes at him.

“Serena. I…”

I can’t tell if he’s going to laugh or cry, but either one will do.

“A cheerleader? I don’t know….”

So, look. This idea didn’t come out of nowhere. Like I said, I KNOW Thomas, and we’ve batted around this cheerleading fantasy during sex before. Thomas likes to feel sexy. He likes to feel taken. He likes to feel slutty. And I think I do a pretty good job of evoking those feelings in him when he’s dressed as a man, or better yet, as I prefer him, not dressed at all.

But the cheerleader thing is deep in his psyche. Just like most high school boys, he watched the school cheerleaders bounce around in their short skirts, their tight tops. He saw the looks the boys gave them—the looks HE gave them, and he imagined things. He imagined what it must feel like to be those girls, to feel desired, envied, wanted.

Also, like most guys, Thomas watches porn. And porn has its fair share of cheerleaders. Porn cheerleaders aren’t real cheerleaders. They are slutty cheerleaders. Vapid cheerleaders. Cheerleaders who exist for the sole purpose of getting fucked often, eagerly and carelessly.

So, Thomas wants to feel like a cheerleader? A slutty, eager, vapid cheerleader? Then he can be MY slutty, eager, vapid cheerleader. Rah! Rah! Sis! Boom! Bah! For me.

The thing is that I’ve never dressed him up in women’s clothes before. A few times I’ve had him wear lipstick. But a full outfit? A wig. This will be a first.

“What if…?” He frowns. He knows he’s not supposed to question me. I know what he’s going to ask anyway. What if I look stupid? What if you laugh at me?

“No. Just put it on,” I tell him. I point to the downstairs bathroom. “Oh, and there’s pink lipstick in there. Be sure to apply it liberally. I want to see it coat my cock.”

Then I take my mojito and go upstairs to wait in the bedroom.

He takes his time. Ten minutes pass. Then fifteen. I’m starting to get annoyed. I’ve been waiting for him in the bedroom in a black tank and what I call my pegging panties—boy short undies that a dildo slides into and fits snugly. I usually prefer a pink dildo, but today I’ve chosen flesh colored, which seems more realistic. I’m not sure I’m even going to fuck him in the ass, but I want to see him suck my cock, and I think it will help me get into the role.

Then just as I’m about to go look for him, see if he’s had some sort of breakdown or fled the house—that I’ve gone one idea too far—the bedroom door opens, slowly, shyly.

He stands there in the doorway biting his lip and breathing heavily. He can’t look at me.

He looks—adorable. Really.

Thomas has a slim build. Not exactly feminine, but not extremely muscular either. I’ve never considered myself bisexual, but seeing him stand there in the short red flounced skirt that brushes the tops of his toned thighs, the way the tank fits him, almost giving the illusion of a waistline, the two blond ponytails framing his pretty face, the way the pink lipstick makes his full lips look even fuller-bee stung. I’m reconsidering if I could be into women after all.

“Well, aren’t you pretty,” I finally say. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing.”

I get off the bed. “Come closer,” I say. “I want to look at you.”

He slides into the room in his ankle socks, and I can see he’s even walking differently than he usually does. He has a little bit of a bounce in his step. His swishes his waist a little. It’s not quite right, and I consider telling him so. But it’s cute. It’s funny. Charming. It almost makes me laugh but is somehow sexy at the time same time. This is how he imagines it feels to be a woman. I let that sink in.

He stands in the middle of the room, hands at his waist, still staring at the carpet. I circle around him, toy with the edge of his skirt, lifting it up just a little bit with my pinky finger.

“Oh, my” I say, whispering into his ear. “You’re not wearing any panties. Are you?”

He gasps, and I’m not sure if it’s because of my words or because of my touch.

“No,” he says. “You didn’t give me any.”

“I didn’t give you any?” I feign confusion. “Oh, you’re right,” I say, sliding my pinky up against the bottom of his ass, feeling him shiver. “I didn’t. Do you know why?”

“No.”

His massive erection is literally lifting up the front of the skirt, but I ignore it for the moment.

“Because slutty little cheerleaders like you don’t need panties. Do they?

“No. They don’t.” His voice is hurried. Breathless.

“What do slutty little cheerleaders like you need?”

His answer is a question. Tentative. “To get….fucked?”

“Good girl. That’s right. Sluttly little cheerleaders like you need to get fucked. And how?”

“However you want.”

I almost laugh. That answer came much more quickly.

“Oh, that’s right. Such a good girl. Such a smart good girl who knows what she’s here for. Show me what you’re here for. Show me what a good job you can do.”

And with that I push my cheerleader down on her knees in front of my cock.

I don’t even have to order. Thomas eagerly takes my cock into his mouth, swallowing it deep, sucking on it, bobbing his head back and forth like he can’t get enough of it. It makes me wish I could actually feel it.

“You’re so hungry!” I say. “What a good cock hungry little slut you are. What a pretty little slut. It seems like you’ve had a lot of practice.”

I grab the wig pigtails and pull them toward me and fuck Thomas’ face with my cock until drool is spilling down his chin. Then I pull him off and tell him to look at me.

He gives me doe eyes. He giggles. Actually giggles.

“Thank you,” he says. I can tell he’s not sure where to call me ma’am or sir, and I’m not either, so I let the lack of my usual honorific slide. Tonight everything is a little confused.

“You’re so welcome,” I say. I point down to my cock, which is largely pink now. “You certainly did coat it.” I place my fingers on his lips and smear the remaining lipstick over his chin and cheeks. It feels good to make a mess of him. Make him dirty.

The dildo is fun, but that’s not what I want. I’m not feeling masculine exactly, but I’m not feeling feminine either. I want to fuck my pretty new toy, but I want to enjoy it. I want to feel it. I know he’d like it if I bent him over, applied lube generously to his asshole and pushed myself in slowly, but I’m in a hurry. I want to feel it, him, her. He’s there for me to use. I want to use him.

“Get on the bed,” I say, and Thomas scurries off his knees and unto the mattress. He’s on all fours, and I can tell he doesn’t know how I want him.

“On your back” I say. “Don’t you want to get fucked? Don’t you want a good fucking?”

He giggles again and lies down on his back, his erection popping up out of the skirt, which he smooths back down over himself.

“Yes, please,” he says. He’s getting into it now. “Please give me a good fucking. That’s what I’m here for. I need a good, hard fucking.”

I take off my pegging panties, leaving on just my tank and slide between his legs. “You do? Why is that?” I say, rubbing my hands over the silky skirt and feeling his hard cock underneath.

“Because I’m a horny slut,” he says with absolutely no prompting. “I’m a horny slut and I just want to get fucked and used. I want to be good. I want to be a good girl and let you fuck me the way you like. Please fuck me. I need it.”

My hand reaches under his skirt to his leaking cock. “You ARE very wet,” I say. “Is that all for me?”

“Yes, please.” He reaches for his cock, but before he can touch it, I have both of his hands pinned above his head.

I tut tut. “Don’t touch. I’m going to give you what you want baby, but you just lie there like a good girl and take it.”

He goes still. Expectant. And I toss up his skirt and climb on top of him and slide down so he’s balls deep inside me.

He groans. Tries to throw his legs around me, and I feel like yes. I AM fucking him. I’m giving my little slutty cheerleader such a good fucking, the fucking of her life.

“You’re so pretty,” I tell her, running my fingers over her lips and sliding them inside. “Does that feel good,” I ask?

“So good,” she says. “I love it. I love to feel your hard cock inside me filling me up. Thank you, sir. Thank you. I needed this so much. Am I being good? Am I being your good slut? Am I behaving? Am I doing what I’m told?”

What can I say? I want to say that I can feel my orgasm building and never more have I wished to have a real cock, to feel what it would be like to grab my slutty cheerleader by the waist and pump my come deep inside of her, to feel her clench around me as she milked the come out of me like the obedient, vapid, sweet minded toy she was.

Instead I say, “I’m going to make you come now. Be my good girl and come for me. Come hard for me. I want to feel it, slut.”

“Yes sir. I will. I will.”

And I feel Thomas buck up into me as I bear down hard, grinding myself against him unsure of who is clenching into whom, but Thomas is grabbing against me, and I’ve got my arm wrapped around his head, drawing him to my breast and he’s saying, “Thank you sir” over and over again, and I’m whispering, “Take it. Take it my little slut, my good little slut” into his ear until the wave of pleasure hits me, and one of us or both of us is crying, That’s it. That’s it. Just like that, baby”. And then we are slumped on the bed together, both sticky and sweaty and laughing.

“You have such good ideas,” says Thomas.

“You have such good ideas,” says my sweet, lovely, slutty little cheerleader.

Gentle Femdom Manga: Porn for the Female Gaze

I was looking at some of the keywords people were using to find this blog the other day. (I’m trying to understand the marketing side of blogging and not just the writing side, which I find infinitely more fun. If any marketing service subs would like to come out of the woodwork, now would be an excellent time.)

And one of the terms multiple people used to find me was “femdom manga,” which I thought was pretty funny because I don’t think I’ve ever expressly written an article about femdom manga. BUT I think I did mention it in an article or two because femdom manga/femdom hentai is SUPER popular in the GFD gentle femdom community—specifically my beloved Tumblr, which is no more and that now has sort of moved over to R/gentlefemdom at Reddit.

When I used to browse Tumblr for my GFD fix, I’d say a good 60-70% of what I’d find would be classified as manga, hentai or perhaps just cartoons. And I think this is an interesting phenomenon because that is NOT what you would find if you were looking for traditional more hardcore femdom porn. If you were looking for that stuff, it was much more of the typical bitchgoddess tall svelte angry woman telling men they had super small pee pees and they were going to watch them fuck a literal bull in front of them and snort like a pig, piggie. Okay…whatever…I made that up. Or did I? If you can’t tell, I find stereotypical femdom porn really boring because it is so totally made for the male gaze.

I think the Tumblr GFD community had quite a few women in it, and that is actually why so much of the material there was manga and cartoons. (If it’s not actually Japanese, is it still manga? Or just cartoons?) It’s really hard to find good gentle femdom porn, especially any that is representative of average bodies, and in some ways I think so much of gentle femdom is based on emotion and nuance, it is sort of hard to show in photos in a titillating kind of way.

Here are a few of my favorite examples of femdom manga images I managed to dig up. Unfortunately, I cannot credit the artists because I don’t know who they are. So, if you do, please let me know.

I’ve seen this picture several times, and it always makes me stop and fall in love with it every time. I love so many things about it. The girl isn’t wearing a super sexy outfit. She’s just wearing a plain bra and tights. She’s got on glasses. She has a bob. Nothing glamorous. She even has a small belly pooch. The boy has a nice body, but it’s nothing crazy. I do think if there’s one criticism I have of a lot of these pictures is that the men in them lean very boyish and feminine, which I would imagine might feel off putting to a lot of men into GFD who don’t look like that. However, it’s not like women aren’t dealing unrealistic body image standards in constantly! This picture is very sexy but also very soft and loving. You can really feel the chemistry between the characters. She’s in control, but you know these are people who care about and trust each other. That is SO hard to find in more porn.

This picture is also adorable. It reminds me of ME smooshing my boobs into my boy’s face. There are literally hearts over their heads. Neither of them are particularly glamorous. I have no idea where this picture is from, but it’s just lovely soft femdom. She’s in control and he’s loving it, and they’re loving each other.

Last, I chose this picture more randomly. He’s less feminine than a lot of guys you tend to see in femdom manga. There are no genitals, although it’s pretty clear what’s happening. You don’t really need to see the body parts to feel how sexy this picture is. You can see everything on his face, the sweat on his forehead, the red in his cheeks, the concentration in his eyes. You can even see his toes curling. He looks very vulnerable, but he’s clearly excited and wants more. He’s pulling her toward him with his hands on her head and neck. This picture is just all kinds of unnnnffff.

Honestly, there is so much good stuff out there, I should start saving my favorites. I suppose what is interesting is why there are so many women participating in the GFD community in a very lifestyle/non-professional kind of way compared to I guess what we would think of as more traditional femdom. Personally, I think way more women are into GFD (and maybe also way more men) than femdom as we otherwise think about it because the focus is on loving relationships and not being mean and sadistic. (And I should say that I DON’T think all other femdom is mean and sadistic–even if sometimes some of it looks that way.)

I also think it’s interesting that so many men in GFD manga are rather girlish looking. It reminds me a little bit of the teen idol magazines they had when I was kid. Those boys were so PRETTY! Is it because they look non threatening? Is it just because a lot of women like pretty men–maybe more than want to admit it? Does the sense of femininity convey some kind of vulnerability that’s hot? I’m really really not sure, but I admit that I’m guilty of liking these pictures myself.

If you’d like to find some gentle femdom manga/hentai/cartoons, here are some places I’d start. Feel free to send me other suggestions, and I’ll add them! Or if you make any gentle femdom related art, let me know, and I’ll be happy to link to you and credit you. If I get enough, I’ll make a page for it.

Reddit’s Gentle Femdom Group

BDSMlr–Replacement for Kinky Tumblr

Mommy Dommes and Gentle Dommes…Is There a Difference?

Cuddling with my boy? Or worship? What’s the difference?

Mommy Domme. Why does the word squick me out so?

There are tons of Daddy Doms on Fetlife with “little girls” who are actually 40, and that doesn’t bother me. I know it’s not really that 99.9% of these guys are pedophiles and want to abuse young girls any more than the women want to be ACTUALLY be little girls. It’s an age-related fantasy because age confers power or lack of it, and the idea of the loving but stern daddy who can take care of you but also keep you in line and guide you—well—it’s pretty hot. It’s not MY personal kink, but I understand what’s appealing about the idea.

In reality, a lot of what I do in my kink looks like being a mommy domme. My sub is younger than me. I’m very nurturing, even if sometimes that’s in a condescending slightly sadistic kind of way. We play with a lot of tease and denial and orgasm control more than with toys and pain. Mommy Dommes and gentle dommes have a lot in common. I regularly tag posts with the same terms.

But my sub doesn’t like the word, and I don’t like the word either, so we usually talk around it and use euphemisms for it. I think the question is why I don’t like it.

  • I am an actual mother. I’ve had a child call me “mommy,” so mixing that word up with my sexuality feels strange. I don’t judge other people at all who feel fine with using the word, but it hits a little too close to home for me to feel comfortable with it.
  • I don’t want to actually BE my sub’s mother. This should seem obvious, but if you look on the web and other femdom blogs, you will see lots of dommes complaining about their passive subs who seem to be looking for someone to help them figure out how to live their lives. I worry that it’s a close step from playing mom to being mom to a grown man, which is definitely NOT sexy. I’m so used to being a mom that it’s not difficult for me to start putting myself in that position. Making dinner. Picking clothes. I don’t need a label to reinforce that behavior in myself.
  • I don’t want to be fetishized because of my age. You don’t have to be older to be a “mommy domme.” I’ve seen twenty-one-year old women using the title. But it’s usually associated with older women and younger men—just like the daddy dom phenomenon is often older guys with younger women. It’s ok with me that part of my sub’s attraction for me is related to my age. There IS something hot about feeling more experienced, and I think I’ve come into my sexuality more as I’ve aged. I think this is common in women, and I can see why many younger men are intrigued by that confidence and directness that’s hard for women to have when they’re younger and trying to figure themselves out. But I don’t want age to be my defining characteristic.
  • Mommy and Daddy have different associations. This is the one that I think stems from toxic ideas about sex roles in our society. I do get annoyed at myself for having no problems with the daddy dom kink and yet being weirded out by the mommy domme thing. I mean, what’s the difference? These are both forms of kinky age play based on power dynamics. But somehow daddy isn’t creepy for me and mommy is. Why? Maybe it’s porn. Maybe I’ve just seen so much porn with grown women calling guys “daddy” that it feels normal to me. Maybe it’s because daddy is a figure of strength and fun while mommy is a figure of both nurturing but nagging—and what every psychologist asks you about in your sessions. I don’t exactly know why, but I know it bothers me that I so easily accept one and not the other.

So, am I a mommy domme? I am an approximation of a mommy domme. Maybe I’m a stern but caring teacher. Maybe I’m an aunt—not your mom but A mom. Maybe I’m the hot older neighbor who can teach a nice young boy a thing or two. I do like be encouraging and supportive, even when I’m using that encouragement to be kind of mean, (That’s the most fun kind of encouragement.) I do like cuddles. I do like snuggles. I do like my very good boy who does a very good job, and I like rewarding much more than I like punishing, but not as much as I like funishing. I do have a very ample busom to nestle one’s head between. 🙂

Making Friends on the Internet (And Sex on the Bottom with Lots of Femdom Femdom Femdom)

How to do blog marketing. Place iPad in sea of lemons. Soak vigorously.

This is going to be an entirely non sexy blog post.

Well, I shouldn’t have said that. Now everyone who might have been reading–all two of you–are going to go away. So, pretend I didn’t say it. There’s going to be so much sex. Tons of sex. You just have to get to the end to see it.

I am having a bit of an existential crisis about my blog.

Blog. Does anyone even read blogs anymore or are we all just posting pictures of ourselves on Instagram? (I think the obvious answer is we are all just posting pictures of ourselves on Instagram.)

I mean, I like Instagram. But my talents lie more in the verbosity department than taking 200 pictures of myself in swimsuits to get the good shot department. (Not saying I’ve done it. Not saying I haven’t.)

The thing was that I’ve been writing about kink for a long time–for myself, for a personal audience, sometimes on forums because I like to hear myself talk and feel important. 😉 And I felt like I wanted to put all of that writing to some use–DO something with it. So, I had this idea that I would make this blog, and it would be very third person and I would take my often very opinionated self out of it.

It would sort of be high minded about sex and kink, like the Gwyneth Paltrow of female domination if Gwyneth wasn’t so annoying and selling candles that figuratively evoke her vagina. (Although, I admit that’s very clever. And why doesn’t MY vagina smell like geraniums? Someone tell me right now that my vagina smells like geraniums.)

And I did that. And I think I wrote about fifty or sixty articles and published them over the past six months or so.

Then in the middle of it all, COVID hit, and I was listening to end of the world podcasts all day, and I also realized that absolutely no one was reading what I was writing, and that was partially because it was all new and Google would have to “notice” it, but it was also because I had no idea how to market myself under a totally new persona. I could not rely on my existing contacts.

And “marketing” oneself on the internet is just totally awful and not what I enjoy. I enjoy WRITING. Marketing oneself on the internet is a form of masochism. #newsceneidea #forcesubtoengagewithothersusingsocialmedia #makehimteachmeallthenewemojis

But I am a self-reflective woman, and I also realized that maybe no one was reading because what I was writing was boring. I had imagined my blog like a newbie primer for men and women who were getting into the idea of femdom–specifically gentle femdom, which is where and how I play. But if there is no YOU in your writing, then it can be rather dull. Not only to read but to write. And there was no ME in my writing, quite purposefully.

So, now, I’ve picked this thing back up, and I’m going to try at it again, but this time showing more of my personality. And I’ve also committed to using Twitter a little and trying to engage more with others in the community, which is, I suppose a form of “marketing.” But let’s call it making friends with people I will probably never meet and who hopefully won’t come to my house and stalk me and murder me in my sleep.

Also, I added all the femdoms in the title purely for craven marketing purposes.

I did promise lots of sex if you stuck around. Didn’t I? Say thank you.

Colin Robinson is My Femdom Spirit Animal

My average, every day going to Whole Foods outfit. You can’t see the coordinated pleather mask with metal studs.

I have a friend who is a masochist. He knows about this blog, so if he sees this, he’ll recognize himself. Hi! Don’t out me. He loves receiving bodily pain…maybe enduring it? I won’t get into the why of it. It’s not my place to analyze his kinks.

And I’ve played with him a few times, and it was entirely exhausting. It was more of a fun challenge to me to see if I could make a dent in his pain tolerance, and the answer was no. (He was so smug too! He knew I wasn’t going to be able to hurt him. It made me wish I had a tire iron and no moral compass.)  Not only was I not strong enough (I have pitiful upper body strength…), I also wasn’t interested enough.

See. Inflicting pain doesn’t do much for me.

I DO love getting reactions. So, I like inflicting pain in as much as it will give me gasps or moans or giggles or entire words or sentences or paragraphs! (Verbal men are god’s rare gifts to this earth.) And I also have a weird thing where if someone puts his finger in my mouth, I kind of want to REALLY chomp on it, and I have to stop myself because I think I might accidentally sever their finger. I like biting in general. Lips. Stomachs. Thighs. Necks. Whatever the fleshy part of the body between your stomach and your back is. It’s so satisfying to sink my teeth in and gnaw.

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But as for being a physical sadist. Meh. I’m a snobby pervert. It’s the intellectual stuff that gets me off.

My real kinks toy with the taboo. The WRONG. Corruption of innocence—in a totally consensual and often fantastical element—is my jam.

Embarrassment.

“Forcing” someone to do something they don’t want to do, reveal something they don’t want to reveal, making them uncomfortable or a little bit afraid or flustered or desperate and watching, fomenting those feelings and then feeding off them. THAT is what I find really sexy.

(By the way, I’ve realized I love putting GIFS in my blog posts. So, sorry. You’re going to have to endure some more. Just remember. If you hate it, I love it! So, you’re just making me happy by hating what I love. But I also love adoration. So, if you love them, you make me happy too. We both win either way. Isn’t that a great game to play?)

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I’m kind of like one of the energy vampires in What We Do in the Shadows. But I hope I’m a little sexier than Colin Robinson. I definitely have more hair.

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Desperation is a BIG kink of mine. Creating it. Not receiving it. One of my most favorite things to do is bring a guy to the brink of orgasm, stop, and watch his reaction. The more he whimpers, begs, bucks or pleads, the wetter I get. It’s so much more erotic than anything HE could do to ME. I get to see his desperation and frustration, imagine what it’s feeling like, hear his excitement and want. It’s like my own personal porn. There is no physical touch that feels as delicious as my imagination.

Honestly, I don’t understand how any woman gets off on vanilla sex. Maybe I’m just wired differently than most women. But I don’t think I am. I think most women require more than just the physical to get turned on. If they didn’t, romance books wouldn’t be so popular.

And the majority of romance books have M/f  power dynamics running through them, whether they’re explicit like 50 Shades or implicit like every cowboy themed my drunken daddy lost the ranch at a poker game and now I’ve been married off to this hunky but damaged man who borderline raped me but now I’m in love with him book.

M/f or F/m. I don’t think they’re so different. They both intellectualize sex and utilize the biggest sex organ—which is obviously the pipe organ. Have you seen those things? They’re huge. Size queen much? What? No pipe organs in your kink? You don’t know what you’re missing out on.

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The Power of Red Lipstick

I don’t wear much makeup. Once in a while, I’ll get dressed up and do a full face, but I don’t like the way eye make up starts to feel heavy or the way the foundation feels caked on. So, mostly I don’t wear any.

Except.

I pretty much always wear red lipstick.

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And I like it red, red.

Fire truck red.

The color of my boy’s ass when I get done paddling it red. (Ha ha. That’s really more like bashful pink.)

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When I first got into the Scene, I bought a lot of very cute outfits, including boots and bustiers and latex so tight I had to oil myself up to get into it. I like the performative aspect of kink, and I liked dressing up and getting compliments. I have a sizable collection of kink clothes for someone who doesn’t do this for a living.

I admit I feel like a badass when I’m walking around in five inch heeled mesh boots. But the reality is that a lot of the clothes we think of as “dominatrix” clothes are uncomfortable– confining and hot and difficult to move in. So, I might feel like a badass in my giant boots, but I actually look like Celeste Barber doing an impression of Bambi about to fall in the forest and be devoured by a pack of wildebeests. (Do wildebeests live in the forest. I don’t think so. But Bambi’s fictional anyway.)

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Now that we’re apparently living in end times, what with the literal plague, Trump in the White House and fire tornadoes–yes—fire tornadoes–and no one responsible is even having any parties (the non responsible people keep sending me emails for swinger boat parties), my outfits are tucked away, organized neatly in my kink closet. (Just kidding. They’re all smooshed into some drawers getting wrinkly.)

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But–I can still have my red lipstick!

Before I apply my lipstick, I feel like an ordinary woman. This morning, a tired woman, because I stayed up too late listening to podcasts and woke up too early. I feel bland. I feel my age. I feel like it might be time to change the outfit that I’ve been wearing several days in a row. (Pajamas. I’ve basically been wearing pajamas for three days. But we can call them loungewear if you like. I have changed my underwear. And showered. But then back in the pajamas. I mean, loungewear.)

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So, right now I’m just a sleepy woman who should change her clothes. But I don’t need to do that!

No!

I can just put on my red lipstick. Because when I do that, it’s basically like I HAVE changed my clothes. Yes. My pajama shorts are a little short (excuse me…loungewear shorts) and they may show the bottom of my ass. But it doesn’t matter because even if I go out to somewhere exciting like…say….the grocery store…and people can see the bottom of my ass peeping out of my well-loved shorts, they won’t even know it’s me because I’ll be wearing a mask!

And what will I be wearing UNDER that mask?

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You got it. Red, mother fucking lipstick, bitches. That’s how the red lipstick makes me feel. Like I can say things like “red mother fucking lipstick, bitches,” and do that drag queen hair flip.

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Like my own personal Lizzo video every time it slides over my lips.

Like I’m Bettie Page….

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And Elvira…

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And Morticia…

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…all wrapped up in one Sweet Tart package. And right now I’m thinking….

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Brian’s Milking Lessons

Jessica leaned down to tighten her sneaker laces and Brian had a direct line of sight between her breasts.  He tried not to groan outright.

Brian heard the bedroom door open before he could cover himself. He’d woken up with a huge morning erection, like always, but he wasn’t always staying at his best friend’s house. He and Jacob met freshman year at the college dining hall, and they’d been close ever since. Now, a year later, he was at Jacob’s house for the entire summer break, while Brian’s parents were in Europe.

But not only had he woken up with an erection, he realized with a sudden horror that he’d had a wet dream too. Jesus, it had been years since that had happened. There was still a wet spot on the sheet beside him.

He tried to pull the covers up, but they were stuck.

“Brian?” The door was open, and standing in it was Jacob’s mom, Jessica.

Jessica was hot. There was no other way to put it. Long black hair. Big boobs he couldn’t help but look at. Jessica liked low cut tops. Sometimes he couldn’t believe she had a nineteen-year old son. Today she was wearing a t-shirt and tennis skirt that showed the tops of her tanned thighs.

Was he actually getting harder or was that his imagination? Oh, god. He tugged again on the bedsheets, but to no avail, and he cursed himself for just wearing boxers to bed.

“I was just going to tell you that Jacob had to go over to his dad’s for a while,” said Jessica. “He didn’t want to wake you up. I’m going out to practice my game in a bit, and I didn’t want you to worry if no one was here.” Jessica leaned down to tighten her sneaker laces and Brian had a direct line of sight between her breasts.  He tried not to groan outright.

“Okay. Thanks,” he mumbled.

“What?” Jessica finished tying her laces and started over toward the bed. “I couldn’t hear you.”

“Oh! Nothing. Nothing. I just said thanks!” He tried not to let her hear the panic in his voice and hoped she would go away, but she didn’t. In a few short steps, she was there.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “My sheets. Did you spill something?”

Brian could feel his face turning scarlet. “Um. Yes,” he said. “I ummmm…” He searched for words, but now Jessica was standing over him. He was staring directly up at her breasts and he knew his hard on was completely visible. He couldn’t think straight enough to come up with an excuse.

“Oh!”

He could see the dawning realization in Jessica’s eyes, and he wanted to die. He gave the sheets one more powerful tug, and the bottom one finally came unstuck. Unfortunately, settling on top of his giant boner, it just made his cock look like a ghost.

Jessica laughed.

“You look uncomfortable, Brian,” she said.

“Please go away,” he said.

“Well, I will,” she said, stretching the words out just a little too long, perching on the edge of the bed and plucking the sheet off him. “But it seems like you could use a little help. Would you like some help, Brian? I’ve noticed,” she said, staring down at his erection straining under his boxer shorts, “that you’re a very excitable boy.”

“I am?” He couldn’t tell whether that was excitement in his voice or terror.

She placed her palm directly on top of his cock, and he moaned. He couldn’t help it. He moaned out loud. “Oh, god,” he said. He could feel himself throbbing.

She laughed. “You are. Every time I see you, I can see a bulge in your pants. And now this,” she said, touching the wet spot on the sheets next to him with the tip of her finger.

“I can explain,” he said, although he certainly could not.

“Can you?” Her face turned serious. “I think the explanation is obvious, Brian. And I think the remedy is too. You could benefit from some milkings,” she said, with a soft smile on her face.

“Some what?” Could he be any more embarrassed? He could barely focus on what she was saying.

“Milkings,” she said, again. “Would you like me to show you?”

He could feel himself nodding, if only because she was putting her hand back on his cock. He tried to breathe deeply, but her hand felt amazing settling on top of his boxers. He couldn’t help himself. He felt himself thrust up against her.

“See,” she said, putting her other hand on his thigh to keep him pressed down on the bed. “That’s what I mean. You’re too excitable, Brian. I don’t even know how you get any work done at school. Do you have an A average?”

“B,” he admitted.

She tut-tutted. “That’s what I’m saying. I suppose you don’t have a girlfriend to help to keep you nice and empty.”

“No,” he gulped. Was he really having this conversation with his friend’s mother? Maybe he was still dreaming. If so, did he want to wake up or not?

“That’s a shame,” she said. “And you’re so handsome too. You’ll find a girl soon to help you manage all of this. But in the meantime,” she said, pointing again at the wet spot, “This really isn’t acceptable in my house. So, why don’t you lean back and let me manage it.”

He couldn’t believe this was happening. “But what about Jacob,” he managed to say, as she encouraged him to lift his hips so she could slide his boxer shorts off.

“It’s okay. He won’t be back for at least a few hours. We have plenty of time.”

Now he was totally naked in front of his friend’s gorgeous mother. He tried to cover himself with his hand, but she quickly moved it away.

“None of that,” she said guiding his hands underneath him. “In fact, why don’t you put your hands under your back. I’m not sure you can control yourself.”

With one hand on his thigh and one hand on his cock, Jessica slowly began to stroke him up and down. Her hands were as beautiful as the rest of her. Soft. Red, manicured fingers. Brian couldn’t stop staring at them.

“You see, Brian,” she said. “Young men like you have too much testosterone. And you’re too easily excited. You can’t focus on the things you need to focus on. You also can’t keep your hands off yourselves, and that leads to bad habits. What you need is to be put on a regular milking schedule. No touching yourself in between milkings. You just let me control your erections.”

“But,” he protested. No touching himself? But her hand felt soooo good sliding up and down his shaft.

“Look,” she said. “I don’t even need any lube, you’re producing so much pre-cum. Do you see  how badly you need this?”

His cock was still engorged. In fact, it felt harder than when he’d woken up. Ever since he’d gotten here and seen Jessica, lounging by the pool in her bathing suit or her pajama shorts riding up her ass as she prepared breakfast in the morning, he’d felt like he was in a permanent state of arousal. He nodded, embarrassed but realizing that what she said was true.

He did need this.

“But can’t I touch you?” he whined. He wanted so much to have one of those big breasts in his mouth. To slide his lips over it and suck at her nipple.

“Ssshhh,” she said. “You just lie there like a good boy, and let me take care of this. It will be over soon.”

Her hand worked efficiently, pumping up and down. She looked at him seriously while he bit his lips. He couldn’t stop moaning. The girls he’d been with had never been this good at giving hand jobs. It was like she knew exactly the right places to put her hand, exactly the right movement to bring him to the edge. He couldn’t stop himself, even if he’d wanted to.

Much sooner than he’d expected he heard himself groaning, “I’m going to come. I’m going to come.”

“That’s a good boy,” she said, soothingly. “Get it all out for me now. Come on.”

Something about the words spurred him on. Yes, he would be a good boy. He would be good for her. He felt the come building up in him, ready to spurt out, and then he realized too late that she’d taken her hand away. He couldn’t stop himself, though. He felt himself thrusting into the empty air, come spurting out of him without all of the delicious pleasure.

He whimpered. “What did you do?” He felt emptied but still frustrated, horny. His cock was still hard.

“I know. I know,” she said, stroking his cock softly with her hand. “That was difficult. Wasn’t it?”

“Why did you do that?” he asked. “I’m still…I’m still….”

“You’re still hard and aroused,” she finished for him. “It’s part of the process of getting you all emptied out. I know it’s frustrating, but you’re doing such a good job for me. You should be proud of yourself.”

And strangely, he did feel proud of himself, glad that he’d pleased her. He wanted more, more of her, more of what she was doing to him.

She slowly started stroking him again, using his come as lube, and he could feel his breathing getting heavier. How was it possible that he was getting more horny? But, still, now he was nervous about what she was going to do.

“It’s okay, baby,” said Jessica. “Don’t hold back on me. Here,” she said, pausing to gingerly take off her t-shirt and pull down her bra, showing off her amazing breasts. They were so big and full. “I think this will help,” she said, and she leaned down and put one breast in his mouth. With the other hand, she resumed her ministrations to his cock.

He let his lips settle over her nipple and began to suck at it gently. She guided it into his mouth so he could keep it there with his hands still underneath his back. He felt taken care of. Calm. His next orgasm appeared almost out of nowhere, as he whimpered into her breast. But she seemed to know it was coming, and she again took her hand away at the last moment, leaving him to shoot his come all over himself. He could feel that there was less now. She was right.

This time he didn’t protest. He continued to suckle at Jessica’s breast while she stroked him very gently, waiting for him to be ready again. Even though he was frustrated, he had to admit there was something pleasurable about it. And he knew Jessica would take care of him.

“That’s a good boy,” she whispered into his ear. “See. You’re getting the hang of it now. Aren’t you? It’s not so bad, especially when you’re distracted.”

And then she began again, with measured strokes, letting the pleasure build and build in him again.

“I’ve helped a few other boys,” she said, as her slippery hands glided softly over his shaft. “Not Jacob, of course, although he’s had some lessons from a friend of mine, and it’s benefited him so much. He’s a straight A student. My friend even showed his girlfriend how to do it, and that’s why he’s such a good boyfriend. Once she realized the advantages, she was very thankful. It’s good you’ll be here all summer. You’ll see. By the end of the summer, you’ll understand why it’s so much better this way. And if you don’t find a girlfriend by then, school isn’t too far. I don’t mind helping you until we can train someone else.”

“I think I’m going to come again,” he whispered, momentarily removing his mouth from her perfect breast.

“What a good boy for letting me know,” she said, happily.

This time when he came, he could feel that there was hardly anything left to come out of him. He felt himself straining to empty what little was left in his balls, pumping at the air. Jessica kept her hand planted firmly around the base of his shaft, to help him fully come as much as possible, giving him something to anchor him, even while refusing him the pleasure of a full orgasm.

When he was done, he felt totally empty, but still hard. It was a strange feeling he’d never experienced before.

“You did such a good job for me,” said Jessica, removing her hand. She grabbed a tissue off the side table and wiped him off. “Now, let’s do one more thing. Okay?”

Before he could even say yes, she’d stood up and pulled off her panties, shoes and socks. Clad only in her short tennis skirt and her pulled down bra, she climbed on the bed, and planted herself over him, sinking herself down onto his still hard but totally drained cock.

“Oh, my god,” he said, as he felt her warm, wet pussy envelop him. It felt heavenly, and yet, he knew as soon as he felt her slide up and down on him that he was never going to be able to come. He could last forever.

“This is the best part,” Jessica said, as she fucked him slowly and languorously, her gorgeous breasts right in his face. “Now I can use your pretty cock to come as many times as I want. You don’t mind? Do you, Brian? After I’ve been so nice to you. I think you can see why Jacob’s girlfriend appreciated his lessons so much.”

Brian couldn’t speak. But he knew it didn’t matter. It was going to be a long, dry summer.

Femdom Porn I Know and Love

Not me. But I do like watching porn in my bathrobe.

I admit, I don’t watch A LOT of porn.

I mean, I probably watch more than the average woman. I’ve always had a theoretical interest in sex. I’m a bit of a sex nerd.

But like a lot of women, a lot of porn tends to leave me cold. There’s usually a lack of chemistry in professional porn, and it’s hard to find GOOD femdom porn in general, especially if you’re not into the divine bitch goddess down on your knees you slimy worm stuff. I would say that just like most porn in general is made for men, most femdom porn is also made for men and therefore caters to their fantasies.

In my opinion, this creates all kinds of problems when men who watch femdom porn want to enter in actual real life relationships with women into femdom because:

They either feel completely intimidated by the idea of a FEMDOM because they imagine women into it to all be whip wielding terrors who wear five inch stilettos and corsets to the grocery store and want to do terrible things to do them.

OR

They feel completely psyched by the idea of a FEMDOM because they imagine women into it to all be whip wielding terrors who wear five inch stilettos and corsets to the grocery store and want to do terrible things to do them.

Ahem. Ladies, you KNOW what I mean. Fetish dispenser much????

And they don’t realize that professional porn is professional porn and even if the women in them are into femdom off the screen, they also sometimes have bad period cramps and want to lie on the couch all day eating ice cream and binging Nailed It on Netflix or get lost driving somewhere out of town and have a breakdown on the side of the road asking themselves why they weren’t born with better spatial relation skills. (Ok. Maybe that one’s just me.)

And stilettos are super uncomfortable. Seriously. They look awesome. But every time I wear a pair, I’m sure I’m going to break an ankle and have to explain why at the emergency room and it’s all going to be embarrassing.

Where was I after ranting about femdom porn? I could go on. And on. So, I’ll stop myself.

In the slop that is the internet, there ARE a few femdom porn creators who I really like. I’m not talking about bloggers. There are some fantastic domme blogs out there like Ferns and OMissPearl, but they don’t create pornographic videos, as far as I’m aware. They do write some great erotica! Oof. And there’s this one book by author Charlotte Stein! I will definitely have to talk more about erotica and these women another day.

But right now I just want to focus on a few women who create femdom porn I like and WHY I like them so much. Please don’t think these are the ONLY options. They’re just my current favorites. And if you know more like them, OMG PLEASE TELL ME!

The first is MissAbbi (No space on Pornhub), otherwise known as the Fuzzy Domme. Why do I love MissAbbi? Well, first, she’s fuzzy. She always looks so comfortable. She does away with the stereotype that to be an effective domme, you must dress in uncomfortable clothes that are really stereotypes. MissAbbi is usually naked or wearing a fuzzy sweater or knee high socks. And sometimes she uses fuzzy mittens or booties on her toy, who is totally adorable. I wouldn’t necessarily say that all of her videos fall under the category of “gentle femdom,” but she definitely has a sort of sweet vibe like she really cares about her toy. There’s actual chemistry there, and I often find myself sending a video of two of her to my boy to tease him.

My second pick for femdom porn that turns me on is Velvet Veronica. You can probably tell I have a type. Veronica also has a very chill vibe about her and seems to really like playing with her “pet.” She says they’re in a relationship, which I think might also account for the real feeling of genuine energy between them. I think I also like that neither Abbi or Veronica show their faces. This lets me focus on the guy and his reactions, which is what I find hot.

Last, and what might have gotten me into femdom porn to begin with, is Klixen. She doesn’t have her own channel, and I don’t even know if she’s still making videos, but she is the handjob QUEEN. Unlike Abbi and Veronica, she does show her face in her videos, but it doesn’t detract from how hot her videos are. She is incredibly slow and restrained in her movements, and you can totally feel the desperation she inspires in the men she very sensually dominates. Klixen, I don’t know where you are, but come back! We need you!

I realize these are all white cis-women, and both Abbi and Veronica are young and quite slim. I would love to see more diversity in the femdom porn I watch, so feel free to send me recommendations. I do also sometimes see one offs that are completely amateur porn, but I didn’t want to include them here because I’m not sure those people would want the attention.

I could go on, but I think that’s enough for now. Don’t fall down the femdom porn wormhole, and remember that dommes are people too. They’re just very special people who are also gorgeous and smart and perfect and always right. Oh, yeah. That was also just me. 😉

*BTW, I was not paid for any of my recommendations in this blog entry. I legit just like what these women make.