On the Toy Position

The Toy positon is something we invented lately to get round the tricky dynamic of boy-on-top sex.
I spent a lot of my adolescence thinking that the Missionary position was the be-all and end-all of HeteroSex, and swearing I wanted nothing to do with it. Why would I let a man pin me down and do what he liked? I couldn't imagine getting any fun out of it at all. (As mentioned previously, I can usually only come when I'm face down).

Besides, it was named for the Christian missionaries in Polynesia who insisted it is the only correct position, expressing the man's God-given superiority. The Polynesians, who'd been creatively fooling about with other methods for centuries, were mystified by this assertion. (Wikipedia says this is a myth, but, hey, never let the truth stand in the way of a good story).

Then I started sleeping with boys, and found that if badly done, I can't stand this position, because it limits my freedom to move and my ability to turn myself on, and it can get very impersonal.

Taken slowly and sensitively, though, I love it. There's something slightlty subby about staring up into a boy's face, which I like in a vanilla context. However, while domming Cupid, that doesn't really have the required degree of force, so to begin with we usually used it if we were being slightly vanilla or very affectionate.

Then I had an idea which would make it more fun for me physically and more subby for Cupid. I'd read in the Hite Report (a fantastic book, highly recommended) that some women vary intercourse by using the man's cock to rub against her outer genitals - in other words, not penetrating, just rubbing, rather like playing about with the tip of a dildo or a vibrator. That way she could stimulate her clit, which is tricky in the missionary position. So I started doing this when we were in the right position for it.

Then the other day I decided to make it an instruction he'd know immediately. There afre a few of these. 'Down' means I expect him to kneel, 'strip off' is self-explanatory, and a well-directed nudge of his head is the non-verbal signal to begin oral sex on me.

So I explained the Toy Position to him. I lie with my legs spread, and he kneels between my thighs while I used his cock as my toy, usually rubbing it on my clit, and building up to fucking. (In theory, I could play till I'd had enough and then say stop. In practise it's such a turn-on I haven't yet managed to reach the point of calling a halt, and I just end up fucking him, however much I didn't mean to).

Being entirely in control of how much fun he gets, and controlling him by controlling his cock, gives me a huge thrill. I suspect the tension of the position works pretty well for him too.

I had a really good experience the other night. I was at a party with Cupid, and I wore a very short dress, a G-string and hold-up stockings, which are clothes to bring out my inner sub anyway. Because it was a largely outdoor party, my bum got really cold. I'd had a lot to drink, and unwisely stuck my tongue out at Cupid while I was bent over, leaning my hands on a table and rubbbing my bum up against him.

He smacked me hard when I wasn't expecting it, and because of the cold, the sensation after the smack was AMAZING. I literally couldn't breathe for a few seconds, and I dropped into what I think of as subspace without stopping on any other levels.

I couldn't even tell him how good that had felt for a minute because I was gasping for breath and trying to focus on who and where I was. Poor Cupid was - I fear - a little scared that he'd overdone it, and my reaction meant it was too much for me. If he'd done it again, it probably would have been, but that delicious drop, followed by hugs and reassurance to bring me back up, made the best moment of scening in ages for me.

All change

More is changing in the world of Psyche and Cupid.

The other morning, after a lot of intense discussion, unrelated to kink, I started Domming Cupid about chastity. I was threatening to impose orgasm bans on him again - long-term ones, like 48 hours, rather than in-scene ones.

He suddenly stopped me and told me this was too much, and he was starting to feel overwhelmed with Scene, like we were over-doing it.

Initially, I reacted badly to this, taking it as a direct criticism. Since I am still quite insecure as a Domme, I assumed any problem was entirely my fault, and was annoyed that I'd put so much time and effort into learning to Dom, only to find it wasn't really what he wanted.

Of course, it wasn't nearly as drastic a situation as that. Once I calmed down and listened, he elaborated.

He was feeling that we were too sceney and never really out of character. He's never been a 24/7 type, and finds this difficult. Apparently this realisation just hit him, out of the blue, while I was domming.

I can see why this bothers him. Reflecting on what he said, it's true. Since I now live with another kinky couple, who have a D/s situation running pretty constantly, I've been acting up to a similar level. My communal house-space has got very kink-heavy, and Cupid is finding it oppressive.

Also, the counting apologies game we had is liable to sneak into every conversation we have, and is also getting wearing for him.

We resolved:
1. Our various communal spaces, at my place and his, are kink-free. (I lapsed last night, pinching his inner thighs to make him get up and make the tea. He - quite rightly - pulled me up on this behaviour, which was exactly the sort of thing he finds difficult. Worse luck, it's practically a habit with me now.).

2. We dropped the chastity idea altogether - it's never been Cupid's thing, as he likes to keep his erotic independence, although I kind of like it as an easy control method.

3. The counting of apologies has stopped.

4. There is a new safeword - roughly equating to Amber oin the Traffic-Light system - which is Doncaster. This indicates something is uncomfortable or it;s not the right moment, rather than a full-on emergency.

I'm waiting to see how we will react to these changes.

I've really toned down on the D/s, partly because I want to know how much this is a change of Cupid's attitude, and how deep it goes. I find it as hard to envisage him becoming vanilla as becoming a vegan. I shall wait and see.

In Other News.
In just over a week, I come off hormonal contraception and stop being mood-swingy and tearful. Hopefully, that will improve out communication,- which has got a bit wobbly lately, what with me being away from home for a week, and a complex issue regarding non-monogamy arising.

I'm afraid I'm updating more gloom and nothing very exciting or upbeat, but bear with me, reader. Sooner or later there will be more excitement and kink, I promise!

Bad Psyche

I did something VERY silly this morning.

Cupid and I were playing, after a lengthy headspacey discussion, mostly to do with me feeling crap and him trying to reassure me. I got into one of my subby moods - feeling like I really needed some pain and discipline, just to feel normal again. So Cupid - despite not feeling very good, or very dommy - obliged, first with hard biting, then spanking. This felt good for me, and he got my Rabbit vibrator off the bedside table,lubed it, and went to fuck me up the arse with it.

Now, I should have said right then that, because it's got a big bulbous head, I needed warming up and stretching with one finger first. And I didn't. So he pushed it in, and I began to cry and said 'Oh FUCK. That hurts.' Not the safeword, note. An ambiguous signal.

Cupid, quicker than I was, asked 'Too much?' and when I said yes, pulled it out instantly, dropped out of character, and hugged me. I felt dreadful for not saying, and kept apologising (like I do), mostly because I knew he'd feel bad for hurting me, and I felt bad for making him feel bad, when I could have said something.

I don't know why I didn't say anything. Part of me would like to think it was total involvement in the scene, but it wasn't. I suspect it was me being detached and inattentive to my part of the play - me treading on my dance-partner's toes, if you like.

We talked it through, and carried on to very good, thoroughly vanilla, sex.

This incident illustrates very well why I shouldn't sub when my head-space is wonky. It also illustrates how good Cupid is to me, for which I am very grateful.

More - and cheerfuller - news soon.

Further counting games

Just a quick post, as Cupid is sitting naked on his bed with his hands tied behind him as I type.

I've just discovered a really wicked variation on counting games. I get him very wound up by playing with him, and than ban him from coming. He has to take his mind of this by reciting the alphabet backwards, every second letter of the alphabet, or whatever I suggest. Meanwhile, I continue teasing him, to make it as difficult as possible for him to concentrate. Obviously, if he comes before I give permission, he's in even more trouble.

He got spanked for being cheeky when I suggested the Fibonacci sequence (which he knows and I don't). He said he might just make it up. Well, he started to say that, and I turned him over and laid into his arse thoroughly for the mere suggestion that he might disobey me.

So far he's still banned from coming, and I haven't decided whether to let him, or leave him in suspense till we next meet. He's also under threat of a chastity belt if he disobeys me on this one again.

Right, time to see if Cupid knows the Greek alphabet.
Backwards.

Where to start with recent news?

My place still doesn't have Internet, and Cupid's is intermittent and wobbly, so again, it's been a while. Our scene from the other night is the best we've played recently, so here it is.


I'd had a couple of whiskys (not my usual) and was emboldened to play, though sufficiently sober to be safe.
(I realise there are varied opinions on mixing drink and play. Some people will say you should both be sober, some that it doesn't matter. My view is that a drink or two relaxes one enough to get more into the scene - much like ordinary sex - but with more than that, the consent issue raises its ugly head. Also, anyone in control of a scene that has physical restraints or risky moves involved needs to be just that - in control.)
So, two small glasses of whisky, and I was clear-headed but a little bolder than usual. We'd had an emotional evening and talked out a few stresses, and getting through that had made me feel well up to domming. Also, Beatrice (mentioned before) is now my housemate, and is very good at encouraging me in domming, and passing on ideas. Having dommed Cupid herself, she knows very well what presses his buttons. We'd been chatting with her earlier and she'd got me rather in the mood to play

We went back to my room, where Cupid knelt as soon as I had the door shut. I remained fully dressed, and made him take his top off. Then I ordered him to take his shoes and sock off too, and he rose from his knees and sat on the bed. I immediately asked him 'Did I tell you to do that?' Always a neat question when a sub gets out of line.
'No, my Lady.'
'Down.'
He knelt again, a bit puzzled as to how to get his shoes off while kneeling.
'Stay on the floor, and take off your shoes - and keep your eyes down. Do I have to explain everything?'

Once he'd got that sorted, I bent him over the bed, and spanked him thoroughly. I told him what a little slut he was. He'd been ordered to wear the girl's knickers I told you about - the mock-boxers with I LOVE BOY PANTS on them. They are, as I've noted, obscenely tight, and outline his cock perfectly. I had him strip down to those, and teased him relentlessly about how he looked - very very pretty - while teasing him harder with my fingers at the same time.

I managed to spin out the teasing till he was gasping and almost incoherent, even when I asked him a simple question. Needless to say, that gave me another good opportunity to spank him.

Then, I made him suck my fingers, while telling him what was going to happen next - I was going to play with his arse, something that really gets to him. I told him he'd better get my fingers really wet, because that was all the lubrication he was getting. 'KY is for good sluts.'

He hadn't done anything specific to warrant this treatment, but I hadn't dommed harshly in a while and I felt like we both needed a really severe scene.

Then I fucked him with my fingers, while he got close to making himself come by playing with his cock - but he had to wait for my permission. This is always tough for him to judge, and he has been known to ask permission when it's already too late. This time, I made him stop once, and smacked his hand away from his cock, and then allowed him to come the next time he got close.

I really enjoyed this scene, and was flattered afterwards when Cupid asked when I'd worked it out. Since I'd been very low on confidence all evening, he thought I'd planned it some time previously. In truth, it just flowed from me, as occasionally a scene does. It's a wonderful feeling when I know that every move I make is precisely right, and is giving him a huge thrill.


It's hard to explain what makes a scene run this smoothly. Partly, I suspect, it is the ease that comes with having had a drink, a heightened confidence. I wouldn't drink just for my confidence, but the whisky just took the edge off my hesitation, and that helped a lot.
Also, the attitude I bring to a scene shapes it. Mostly, it is about acting on impulse. The best strokes of my domming career have come about through my having an idea and acting on it at once, before it cools. If it occurs to me that he would look better bent over the bed than lying on it flat, I make the change and we go from there. The discovery that my purple vibrator gives him more fun than it does me, and the discovery of the spatula, and the clothes-pegs, and a few other toys, can be attributed to this impulsive domming.
Third, I stopped asking my worst domming question, which is 'Now what shall I do with you?' It always implies hesitation, not knowing already what I'm doing, and that fatally saps my confidence. If I've run out of ideas, the scene is effectively over. I decided in my head that night exactly what I would do, and I did it without any reference to Cupid.


Now I need to decide how to punish him for his behaviour on Friday morning. I had to leave early for work, and sent him downstairs in my skimpy feminine dressing-gown to make my breakfast while I showered. He was very good about that, and while we ate I played with his cock, which was pretty obvious through the thin material. He' always easily turned on after he waked up, and rubbing him with a handful of the soft silky dressing-gown got him very hard.

Last time he stayed over, he texted me later to say he'd made himself come after I left. This time round, I decided he wasn't to, since we were seeing each other again in the evening. I told him so, adding that I'd know if he cheated, and left for work.

That night, when we met, we were out together, so had a few drinks and then came home and slept. I forgot to check on how responsive and arousable he was that night, which was how I meant to tell if he'd done as I said or if he'd come that morning. It wasn't till Saturday morning that he said - very minxily - that he'd disobeyed me and made himself come after I left, and how come I couldn't tell like I said I could?

So, I need to think of something to do to him, for disobeying and for minxing about it. Any suggestions?

Other news - my apologising got a bit out of hand lately. I'm up to a hundred and seventeen and counting. More news on that soon.

Back on the air

We have finally got internet access back. I've been fed-up with going online from internet cafes, and not daring to check out how my kink blog is going.

Cupid and I are back to separate rooms, which is a blessing in some ways. I now have a space which is MINE, which he kneels down when he enters. And I have much more understanding housemates than before. I have enough room to store my various outfits and props and toys. He has the freedom of not being under his Lady's thumb all week, which was getting a bit irksome for him.
And the mystique is creeping back. Little things like him not knowing what I'm wearing underneath, because he didn't see me getting dressed this morning.

This evening, I have a surprise for him. I've just got my hair dyed, and with the leftover dye I drew a heart-shape into my muff. He has three guesses, two of which he's used - my fancy red knickers and my scorpion nipple-jewellery were the first two. There's a forfeit if he doesn't get it right on the next guess. I bet he won't.

I haven't decided what the forfeit is yet.

I promised to update on how the spankings to make me stop apologising were going . They worked pretty well, and brought out Cupid's inner dom more than I expected. He seemed to get into the idea of giving me a quick scene - five minutes over his knee - at bedtime, or extending it if he wanted to play for longer. I took to going up to bed first, and waiting, with the collar on, reading till he came up, like an obedient sub. Then he'd question me closely about the number we were on, and I'd have forgotten, guess, argue with the increase he said, and try to minx my way out of punishment. I'm very bad at being a good sub, I'm very disobedient, but it's probably handy for Cupid to have a good reason to punish me.

Also, we improvised a new toy. There was one spatula in the kitchen of his old house that was much more solid and square that the normal ones, which tend to have round corners and be quite flexible. While we were washing up once, I got it out and whacked Cupid's bum with it, saying 'Look! A pervertible!'

Later, when I'd been naughty and was being punished, I was cheekier than usual, and Cupid left me and went downstairs. I lay there thinking 'Oh shit, I'm going to get the ICE,' which is my least favourite punishment. He came back up with the spatula instead, which was a big relief. At least until he started spanking me with it.

In a couple of days we're going out clubbing. I've suggested, like the SAM (Smart-Arse Masochist) I am, that Cupid gets to dictate what I wear, right down to the skin. He's not a big fan of detailed clothes-analysis like I am, so I suggested he could just say which bits he wanted on show, and I'd work it out from there. The collar is a given, naturally, and the lead that goes with it. I'm already a little kinked about wearing those on the way into town. Once we're at the venue, no one will be at all shocked, but I LIKE the idea that a lot of people I don't know can see how much I love submitting to Cupid.

Anyway, it's late and I ought to be in bed. I'll post more soon.

Psyche is apologetic

Lately, due to various factors, I have caught myself apologising for everything. Standing in the wrong place, saying the wrong thing, having an opinion...
I've begun starting sentences with 'Sorry'.

You know how someone uncomfortable tries to tuck in on themself and take up less space? My repeated apologies have the same effect. I'm trying to apologise for being in Cupid's way or in his space, and in my low moments, that gets big and intense till I want to apologise for existing.

I caught myself repeating this verbal tic this morning, and suggested to Cupid that it should be stopped. I said maybe we should keep a count, and next time he's in charge, I could get a spanking of equivalent number.

He said he'd been thinking much the same. But not a simple count. [I shouldn't have told him about the Pink-Bottomed Girls' brilliant counting games - it fired his mathematical enthusiasm.]

He suggested doubling the spanks each time, or using Fibonacci number (where you add the previous two, so it goes 1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21,34,55...) or maybe triangular numbers (1, 3, 6, 10, 15, 21, 28, 36, 45, 55 ...) or exponentials, or a Turing computer... He obligingly explained how all these work, leaving me reeling slightly. In between his sentences, I would start off, 'Sorry, but how does that work again...?' and then burst out laughing at the thought of having tacked another couple of dozen spanks onto an already excessive number.

This evening, he's out, but I am up to 24 - I kept count carefully in his absence - and I'm dreading our next switching session. The discussion had the benefit, though, that instead of stressing about what's going on in my head to make me apologise, I now just giggle, and shout 'Oh bugger! That's twenty-four!'

This is probably going to be my last post till August, So I'll let you know how this counting game worked out then.

Till then, have fun!

This Morning...

Being Saturday, we were able to laze around in bed together. So we did. Cupid, snuggling up against my back, began grinding against my bum, something he tends to do if given half a chance. So I ground back for a bit, getting him hard. Then I rolled over to face him and started playing with his cock, and teasing his arse to wind him up. I love the way he immediately opens his legs wide if I do this - it's such a slutty move.
Having not fucked him that way for a while, I decided to treat him. Once he was really turned on, I got out a couple of things from out sex-toy drawer. One was our new shiny COLLAR.

(I bought it this week. While I was away over last weekend, Cupid was put on an orgasm ban. While I was away, he made himself come - not once, which would be forgivable, but four times. As a punishment, I told him I was getting a collar and lead for him to wear on our next night out. That was Tuesday, and he looked very pretty and obedient in it).

I told him to put the collar on, and while he struggled with the buckle, I got out my Magic-Wand vibro and lubed it. Then, I ordered him to spread his legs - and then told him what a slutty little sub he was for doing so. I fucked him with the vibrator while he played with his cock. I set the vibro on a what I call 'Motor-bike' setting - it starts slow and gets more and more intense, and then stops, leaving you wanting more, and goes back to the beginning.

He came really quickly, and very intensely, then rolled over for hugs. He looked so beautiful, lying there completely naked with a collar on and his hair all mussed.

I didn't get played with this morning, simply because I didn't ask. I'm not usually a morning girl. Also, half the fun is in the anticipation.

Do not adjust your set. Normal service will resume next month.

Just to let you know...over the weekend Cupid and I are losing our internet connection. Hurrah, rented accommodation. We will be moved into our new places, and back online, early in August if all goes to plan. Till then, I'll just add some highlight from the last week or so.

Last weekend, I got very headspacey, and as often happens, clicked into full Sub mode. This was a bit weird for two reasons.
Firstly, I'm not a hundred percent sure that my desire to sub when I have a confidence-dip is healthy - maybe not quite the Sane required with Safe, Sane and Consensual. I suspect what I really want is affirmation that 'yes, Psyche, you are a bad little girl, I'm going to have to spank you, but I still love you'. When I go subby, I'm demanding recognition of, and punishment for, my own shortcomings, guilts and fears, so I can stop beating myself up over them. This is a bit issuesy to bring into a scene, and I probably should keep a serious eye on my motives for subbing.

The second reason is that it's unfair on Cupid, who likes time to plan and to prepare, just to spring a scene on him that he's not expecting and probably not in the mood for.

So, at the weekend, I went subby and asked for a scene, and Cupid obliged. By the time we went to bed, I had no underwear on, because I'd changed in the evening and thought this was a good way to please him. He spanked me to get us in the mood, - though I can't recall what reason he gave. He also wound me up so I was very very turned on and wanted to be fucked. Then he ordered me to turn face down, and I thought 'This is it.'

He got out the lubricant, which is something we use when my pussy is dry sometimes, but then he started playing with my arse. I am pretty anally-erotic - possibly assisted by my kink for gay men - and this amazed me, because from what he'd always said, Cupid wasn't into the idea of giving anal sex. Also, we've had a chequered history with it, because when we first got together Cupid wasn't keen on the idea of receiving it - a pleasure I introduced him to - and for a long time I was too shy and embarrassed to let him even touch me there.

I got him keen on anal sex using fingers or a vibrator - the rotating head of my Rabbit being a particular favourite - and he'll often use his finger on my arse when I'm face down, making myself come. But I had no idea he was interested in fucking me up the arse.

So, I lay very quiet and still like a good sub, until I was quite sure of his intentions. Then I started making a lot of noise, to make sure he was aware that I approved. He started with one finger, then two, and then his cock. This was a first for me. Obviously, with other boys I'd used condoms, but it was the first time I'd done it unprotected. For me, anal stimulation is right on the pleasure-pain boundary so is much more intense than something purely pleasurable. I think it was less so for him, to be honest. I'm not as practised as I'd like a relaxing the muscles, so it was really too constricting for him to enjoy it.

After a few minutes we switched to the more conventional variety of sex, and when we stopped I had that lovely slightly painful feeling of having been thoroughly fucked. Again, it's on the fine line between pleasure and pain, so I really enjoy it. Lying there after an orgasm feeling slightly broken and bruised gives me a real kick.

Don't know if he wants to do this again - but I really wouldn't argue.

Snapshot

It occurred to me a while ago that I could make erotic use of the 20-sided dice Cupid has lying around. I scribbled down a list for use in a game of chance, trying to balance things I like and things that are fun for him but only in a subby way.

Transcribed from an original stained slightly with tea, henna paste and baby oil:

1: Ice [Self-explanatory]
2: Back scratching [This is a kink of mine I had before I knew what a kink was, and as such it really really gets to me if done to me for a long time. I simply wriggle with pleasure like a cat.]
3: Breast play
4: Spread-eagle [He gets tied down at all four corners of the bed - and then left there while I write my next blog post, mwahaha. ]
5: Forced femming
6: Vibrator [My small purple vibro is a treat for Cupid, because it give him a thrill if I use it on his cock, and also works brilliantly on his G-spot.]
7: Teasing [Making Cupid play with himself for my amusement]
8: Lustrous (I) [This is the game where Cupid doms me, and there are two versions listed because in one he's allowed to carry on, and in the other he gets smacked right back down. And he doesn't know which is which.]
9: Clothespegs on his nipples
10: Breath control
11: Spanking with his own belt
12: All-over massage [Lots of baby-oil - this is really relaxing and gets very erotic]
13: Triangle [Cupid's hands tied behind his back and attached to his feet while he's kneeling, so he can't move. As and when I get him a collar, that might also be tied in, but I'm not very good with knots as a rule.]
14: Spanking
15: Blindfold
16: Lustrous (II)
17: I straddle his face [The version of oral sex which gives me most control, and which he adores]
18: Oral sex
19: Toy position
20: Fucking

That's actually a pretty comprehensive list. Anything not included is either beyond our limits, demands equipment we don't have, or is something we do very rarely.


Speaking of equipment, the other night, we were imagining having a dungeon of our own - much the way other couples plan how to decorate their living-rooms.

Psyche: So, what shall we put in it?
Cupid: Me.
Psyche: No, I mean toys. What toys should we put in it?
Cupid: [in tones of satisfaction] Me

There was Trouble.

Psyche was reading Livejournal when I got the instruction to strip down and tie cords to the feet of my bed.

(Living in rented accomodation means that I've had to be a bit inventive with finding things to be tied to. My bed is on castors and doesn't have much of a head, so I've got four lengths of cord that we knot around them and then around me or Psyche when one of us needs restraining.)

When I'd finished, she had me come over to her and kneel by her feet. It was around this point that I realised I hadn't written for the deadline that Psyche set. Not knowing how to admit this, I kept quiet until she found out.

Normally when she spanks me she's quite gentle, but this time she really cut loose, using her hand and a plastic coathanger. When, as she sometimes does, she stopped and asked me how many strokes I'd had, I had to guess -- I'd started trying to count, but the pain had gotten in the way.

(What's really cruel is when she makes me keep track of the number of strokes to the left and right buttock simeltaneously.)

She turned me over and tied me down, leaving one arm and leg free, while she went downstairs for ice.

Ice is interesting to use; it's fun because it can be left on somebody while the Dom/me does something else. Psyche and I use it fairly infrequently -- I only get it when I've been really bad. Normally, we place it quite carefully on each other, in sensitive areas: chest, navel, breasts, and only very rarely on the genitals -- the stuff is painful enough as it is. I got one piece on my neck, one on my chest, and one in the dip of my stomach, which was enough to really make me whimper quite loud. Unfortunately, my Lady interpreted this as giggling, and thrashed me around some more; the ice got taken off for a while while she bit and pinched me (I'm extremely sensitive to this, especially in the skin near my nipples and thighs) and then

THREW

the cup full of ice back onto me.

I squealed quite a lot at that. Some of the ice had melted by then, so I was lying tied down with freezing water dripping all over my body, down my sides and into the small of my back. I'm quite glad my housemate was away for the weekend -- if she didn't know us better she might have come running in expecting to see me badly injured. I think Psyche even managed to scare herself a little with just how cold I was when she removed the ice.

The other part of the evening was spent punishing me for having looked at porn.

(Since I was about sixteen I've been fairly hooked on internet porn; I've recently decided to give this up, or at least transfer my attention to porn that's of a decent quality. We've agreed that Suicide Girls -- which was what I'd been looking at -- is allowable, and therefore something which can feature in our scenes. Anything else would be serious -- we don't let issues into our scenes.)

Psyche had me kneel and tied me in what she calls the triangle position. It's one which we've only just tried, where I kneel up and she ties my wrists and ankles. If I was on my front this'd be hogtying, but we both think that's an ugly name. She then logged onto the site which I'd been watching and looked through the pictures herself, stopping to comment on them and to play with me from time to time. The tying didn't come through quite right -- it's the first time we've tried tying me in this position and we still need to work out the right way to tie the knots -- so she had me kneel on the bed with my face in the pillow while she looked at the rest of the pictures.

By now we were both getting very excited. Psyche sat on the edge of the bed and made me kneel on the floor and kiss her pussy. Oral sex is something that turns me on fantastically -- it captures everything that the domme/sub relationship is about for me. Next she had me kneel in what we've dubbed the toy position: this is where she lies as if to receive missionary-position sex, but I'm only allowed close enough for her to use my erect penis to tease her clit. One of the things about this position is that my Lady often finds it difficult to hold back from full-on fucking once this has started. This was one of those occasions.

Deadline II

Observant readers will have spotted that Cupid didn't meet his deadline and post by last Sunday. He did get punished for it, and was then ordered to post what had just happened immediately. This post is half-complete - he got tired and I relented and said he could finish it later, when less sleepy. Now I'm waiting for him to write he rest of it. In the meantime, I am keeping a count of the hours since he was told to finish the post - and he gets a spank for every hour he leaves it. With other misdemeanours, we're up to 135 and counting.

More on this later.

Change of plan

Up to now, as readers may have spotted, I've been writing on themes rather than events, and quoting at length from my diary to keep it as close to the facts as possible without interrupting the flow of narrative. I have a whole list of titles for lengthy and considered posts tucked away in draft form, I plan to write on all of them at some point


Unfortunately, my diary is now on a different computer to my Internet connection, and I won't have it back till August by the look of things. So I'm going to temporarily change the format of this blog, and do what I ultimately plan to do with it when I run out of titles. I shall start writing accounts of recent events, rather than summaries of elements of our BDSM play.


For starters:


Yesterday, I found this picture on a feminist site.
They read it - quite correctly - as a misogynistic and unpleasant use of stereotype. The text at the bottom reads 'PS2: Because your girlfriend bores you shitless'.

I showed it to Cupid (who has recently bought a PS2) and to my deep irritation, he burst out laughing. He insisted that he knew it was a bad advert, but it was still funny.

Despite my obvious annoyance, he kept giggling until I stood up and ordered him to take his trousers down. I bent him over the bed and smacked his bare bum hard, giving him maybe two dozen strokes, just enough to indicate that I wasn't amused. Then I asked if he still felt like laughing?

Oddly enough, he'd stopped finding it funny.

All this was played semi-ironically. I know better than to introduce real-world issues into what is essentially a game, because that can be unpleasant and even bullying. Putting pressure on the sub in two ways at once, in real-world terms and in play terms, and blurring the distinction between them, turns into head-fuckery quite easily. It's not somewhere I go, but I did enjoy asserting my control briefly to show him what I thought of this particular joke.

Sometimes it is possible, and fun, to make a serious point in the guise of playing. For example, one evening while walking across his bedroom I tripped on a belt he'd left on the floor. I picked it up and spanked him with it to teach him not to leave his things lying about. To my secret delight, when he later undressed on my orders, he - unprompted - neatly folded and offered each item of clothing to me as he stripped.

I don't ever dom to resolve serious issues - we talk about them. On the other hand that isn't serious and won't get taken too seriously is fair game to be incorporated into a scene.


More on recent developements soon.

On Forced Feminization

A single scene, which I played a while ago with Cupid, gave me a huge thrill because I managed to nudge against one of his hard limits, without going far enough to make him call a halt. Something I really enjoy about domming is going into a space where the sub is not quite comfortable, not feeling totally secure, but not so freaked that he wants it to stop. My over-used metaphor for this is bunji-jumping - subbing is like falling off a bridge, but someone you trust is on the end of that line and is going to pull you right back up. I love the nearness of the edges in that sort of scene.


For Cupid, who is not a classically aggressive 'manly' man, but is very comfortable in his masculinity, feminisation was a hard limit for a long time. I was informed by one of his former girlfriends that she'd never got him to go there either, though both of us agreed that he's pretty enough to look really good when dragged up.


Conversely, I've been playing about with gender since I was young enough to be a tomboy. Then my cross-dressing became was adolescent confusion, then hard-line butch lesbianism, and is now gender-queerness. So for me drag is both routine and exciting. I'm very good at dressing as a boy, and frequently get away with it. So much in fact, that the main problem with dragging Cupid up was finding enough female clothes in my wardrobe to make him wear.


We had played a previous scene where, just as a joke, I made him put on a pair on my pants. They were tight girl's boxers, bought from Primark, with 'I love boy's pants' written round the elastic waist, and a fake button fly. They are tight on me, but an hell of a lot tighter on him, outlining his cock perfectly, and giving me quite a thrill. But that was more fooling around than serious gender-play. I later bought him a pair of the same pants, and occasionally order him to wear them when we meet.



I built him up to full gender-bending gently. He told me some time ago, in the context of a conversation about my gender-neutral outfits, that he'd be interested in trying it.

Then we got on to him being dressed as a girl. He said this was one of the things he wasn’t sure about, being very clear on his own gender, but if I wanted him to he’d try it, since he believes in trying anything. I said, that could go on the back-burner and I would look out for an outfit to fit him.

I kept this in mind for a long time, and when I thought he was ready, I started preparations. I ordered him to bring two hairbands with him the next time he came to my place. I was vaguely hoping to get him worried by hinting that they were going to be used for some form of CBT, so the sudden change of theme would be met with relief, not apprehension.

When he arrived, he followed the permanent rule for him when entering my space, and knelt down at my feet. This process sets the scene, but is affectionate rather than distancing, since it's ususally combined with a face-to-breasts hug. From there, I made him sit at my feet, and began combing his long hair, a relaxing process which we sometimes do while watching television - a time when he usually sits at my feet on a beanbag.

I parted his hair and tied it into bunches with the hairbands provided. This totally changed his face, immediately bringing on the very wide-eyed look he has when subbing and uncertain of my next move. Also, as predicted, he looked very pretty.

I ordered him to strip off, and told him to don him the female clothes I'd got out before he arrived - almost my only obviously 'girly' clothes. I had found a black G-string with red lace - originally bought as a surprise for him, when I was dressing femme in order to dom. Also, I gave him a pair of my hold-up stockings, and a silky lavender dressing-gown arrangement.

While he dolled himself up, I put on my heeled boots, which bring me almost up to his height. They also alter my posture, making me stand up straight with my hips well forward, so I reversed the genders and demanded to be called 'Sir'.

To my delight, he took to girl's clothes without too much difficulty:

He sat on my bed, in a very feminine pose, which thrilled me - he was very quiet and subby, with his knees together and his head down. Then I pushed him down on the bed, lay on top and was quite savage, thrusting against him. I bit his neck hard, then ordered him to ask for more, telling him ‘you love it, you little slut’. Also I bit his thighs, and the sensitive line of his chest between nipple and armpit.

I enjoyed treating him badly, parodying the most misogynistic and exploitative of Male/female interactions. In real life, it's one of the things that makes me angry, but with our roles reversed I felt like I was allowed to turn the tables a bit. (Not that Cupid ever behaves like that even when he's domming. I was exploring my own kink for harshness, and maybe even my misogyny). Ordering him to beg for more love-biting was very harsh, given how hard I was biting him.

I held him by the hair and thrust his face against my crotch, telling him he was sucking my cock, and what a little whore he was to do it. Then – the cruellest bit – I told him to do up his dressing gown and handed him a mug, and told him to get me a some water from the kitchen (next door down my communal corridor). I saw he was on the point of objecting, and prepared myself to drop out of role if it was a safeword issue. But he gave me a wide-eyed look and a subdued 'Yes Sir', and went.

Once he came back, kneeling at my feet again when he re-entered the room, I stopped being harsh, let him undress, dropped out of role and held him. The possibility of being seen by the girls I live with, and the humiliation of being feminized, were as close to safe-word issues as I've taken him.

That scene remains one of my favourite, in retrospect, partly because I was able to unleash a side of myself that very rarely sees the light of day. Normally, I'm too busy concentrating on Cupid to be so self-indulgent while domming, but that night my confidence was high and I let myself go. Also, I'd wanted to test out that particular limit of Cupid's, and I'm still pleased with the fact that I kept him just this side of his hard limit, but well off his usual submissive map.

And did I mention how pretty he looks in drag?

Deadline!

Cupid has been told if he doesn't post something by next Sunday there will be Trouble. Watch this space for either his side of a story, or an account of the Trouble he got into for forgetting...

Psyche as a sub

OK, now for a confession.


I'm really very switch.


I guess most of us have played both sides of the game, and it's a sensible piece of advice that a Dom should have had try at subbing so s/he knows what it's like. I missed that chance, since my serious experience of BDSM started with Cupid, a confirmed sub who had never considered switching. But at a party once, when I'd had quite a lot to drink, I got fooling about with a friend who used to go out with Cupid, a girl called Beatrice.
It was the sort of party where one ends up topless, and I was half-undressed, and stood in the kitchen with her, stroking her breasts with sincere if drunken admiration.

I found myself, to my delight, kneeling at her feet, and then she savaged me suddenly, laid me flat on my back on the cold kitchen floor and jammed her thumb against my windpipe so I couldn’t breathe. I got so panicked and breathless I cried. That was nice and subby. She said "Don’t touch them again without permission." I lay there and shivered and people came in and looked and went away. Beatrice said she liked the idea that everyone could see me being subby. Then she took my outside and we talked.

I don't remember all the details, but I know I loved it.

(For me, crying can be a positive experience. It's a catharsis of my emotions, and it happens after really good sex. Also, it's one of my two reactions to being dommed. The other is mildly hysterical giggling).

Afterwards, she said she couldn't imagine why I was Cupid's Dom, because I'm obviously so sub. Paradoxically, she reckoned I was so sub I hadn't even thought to question this situation:

She says I am a total sub – because I am so subby I have been persuaded to read up on domming and do it for the boy who is, perversely, domming me to dom him.

I thought this was possible, and started questioning my status. Admittedly, it had been severely questioned from the word go, and learning my style had been a long process of asking "Why am I doing this?" and "Is he going to like it or freak out?" But now I'd settled down into mild-to-moderate dominness, here was the revelation that being dommed myself gave me a huge thrill. A huge amount of soul-searching went into the diary, and I eventually decided to message him online with orders - something I'd done a few times before.

‘Darling,
The plan for tonight, if you’re up for it, is that you will dom me. As usual, the safeword is Palestine, and I will use it if necessary. Otherwise, you have my permission to tease me and use me any way you like. (This is a good time to demonstrate things you’d like done at a later point, so your Lady can consider them). You should know what a sub likes.
Looking forward,
All yours,
Psyche’

The response was more positive than I'd expected: he said he could try domming, if it was teasy domming and not too serious. He told me I was to go round to his on a night later in the week, taking a small vibrator I have and a blindfold, and not wearing underwear.

I went home, took off my underthings, got the vibrator and the blindfold, put them in my jacket pockets and went round to Cupid's place.
Then after we had kissed a bit, he went downstairs and I got out the blindfold and vibrator and put them on the bedside table. When he returned, I was all set to kneel at his feet but didn't quite have the nerve, being unsure what he was going to do.
He made me lie on the bed for a bit and sat on me. Then he ordered me to get up and take all my clothes off. I did, and stood, hands behind me, head bowed. He pointed mutely at the bed and I lay down, with him astride me. He asked if I’d brought the things he said. I said they were on the table. He said to wriggle down and put my head on the pillow. I did. Then I had to put the blindfold on. I did, and couldn’t repress a stupid grin. I felt so good about being helpless. I tried to hide my face but it was tricky. He tied me – legs first – to the bed, murmuring ‘I’ve been itching for an opportunity to do this since I got the bed. Well, I was visualising me being tied to it, but…’ Duly noted.
He tied my arms, and I moved my head out of his way, and he said ‘I said to keep your head on the pillow. Bad!’ and slapped me lightly on the cheek. Then he got up and I heard him take off his clothes. He sat on me and touched me, and said I looked very beautiful. He had this voice,quite unlike how he usually speaks, very soft and low and mildly threatening. He asked how it felt.
‘Nice,’ I said.
‘Good.’
‘Slightly scary.’
‘Better.’
Then he touched me a bit, bit my nipple to the point of pain, and because I couldn’t see him it all felt amazing. He got the vibrator and teased me with it. Then he placed it so it wouldn’t move and was pressing the side of my clit, and said ‘I’m going downstairs to get a glass of water. You’re not going to move. Because you were bad, I may close the door, or not. Because you’re blindfolded, you won’t know. And because I’m bad, I’m not going to tell you. Have fun." (Oh, such a wicked tone of voice!) And he went.
I heard the door slam, but up till then I thought he would actually leave me visible, naked, tied, blindfolded and with a vibrator resting into me. I wriggled to try and get it closer to me. It felt amazing. I also giggled a lot and cursed him in an affectionate way.
When he came back, he said, ‘You cheated. You listened to me shut the door.’ I didn’t bother to argue. He sat on me again, went to kiss me then stopped, and I tried for his lips and he said "I didn’t ask you to do that, did I?"
"No."
"Bad." Another slap.
He put his cock in my mouth at one point, which felt fantastic. Then he sat on me, and began to play with himself. I could feel him moving and his thighs tensed. Then he stopped and took off the blindfold. He untied my left hand, and I started to tease him. He said I looked very pretty like that, very beautiful, and he was really tempted to come on me, but then, he wouldn’t get to fuck me and he really wanted to do that. He could always untie me now? But if I kept doing that he’d have to leave me where I was. I paused, considered theatrically, then went back to playing with his cock. So he tied me up again for a bit, and sat astride me. He said something, I can’t just think what, which demanded an answer, and said ‘but I can’t do that can I?’
‘No.’
‘No what?’
‘No, you can’t.’ Slap.
‘No sir.’ Yum!
Eventually he untied me and I stopped being sub and told him that was amazing. He told me he got the idea when a friend told us about her old dom who used to tie her up and work on his thesis, and his main concern when he heard this was not to have to stand up in the near future. So that’s something I can do to him. I said I loved the verbal domming, and he said it was pretty cheesy. But he does it so much better than I do.
He said he liked it more than he’d thought, and I touched his cock and said ‘I could tell.’

Since then, we've modified the scenes in which we swap roles. We came up with a game which doesn't demand too much of Cupid, but gives me a turn at subbing. This idea came to me in the middle of the night, and I had to leap up and write it in the diary before I forgot.

Oooh, bright idea – we set a codeword which says that at some point in the evening, he’s invited to wriggle free and takes over. BUT I still have final say and decide beforehand how we’re going to play it, so if he’s wrong I get to punish him more.

I suggested this next time we met up:

We met up in the pub. I suggested my bright idea, which involved me getting him to sub, but him being allowed to wriggle free at some point, BUT I don’t tell him if he gets to carry on or if I’m going to smack him right back down. He sat there for a few seconds with that pretty little smile, and his eyes screwed up, then said ‘I’m hard just THINKING about that.’

We picked a random codeword to indicate the game, and I throw a coin to decide - Tails for me to stay sub all evening, Heads for me to take over. That way I'm not so able to cheat and get more than my fair share of subbing.

This post has got unwieldy, so I shall close here and write a sequel at a later point.

On Clothes

DOMS DO IT WITH THEIR BOOTS ON.

When I have time to start making T-shirts again, that will be one of the first slogans I do.
But do we?

I'm possibly an unusual Domme, in that I can't walk in heels. Much as I love the way boots make me stand, and the height advantage, I can just about stride from one side of my bedroom to the other in them.
I own one pair of boots, donated to me by a girl friend, not precisely my size, and with platform heels, not stilettos. They're good for nights out, but my Boy is always treated to the spectacle of his Lady striding confidently out of the club, and pausing at the first bench to change into her tatty trainers for the walk home.

I don't own a proper corset - though I would like to, and I have a blouse with lacing up the back to look like one. I haven't ever owned stilettos and I don't want to - I don't get on with impractical footwear. I tend to dom in minimal costume, and have been known to exercise control in dungarees, in an ancient pair of ripped jeans and a T-shirt, and frequently naked.

When I first started domming, I bought a belt made of a set of chain links, interwoven with a strip of black silky material. I incorporated it into the first scene I really planned beforehand. This was, in fact, the genesis of Psyche as a character. I didn't believe for a moment that my real-life persona had a hint of Domme in her, so I invented Psyche as a mask to hide behind. As with most of my planning, it was written in the diary.

I really need to plan this all more, especially as I haven’t yet managed to do anything properly dommy without going vanilla halfway through out of shyness.
The scenario I have been turning over in my mind is something like this. Having got him back here, and started kissing on the bed, before the removing of clothes, I will blindfold him and tell him to sit still on the bed while I get ready. He must sit still and not fidget, and I will make quite sure he can’t see me.
Then I will strip off and put on my black pearls as a choker, and my boots – doing up the zips slowly, since they’re audible...
I'm fooling about with the props now, nude and seeing how I look. I look amazing in the pearls and the boots. Also I have just tried laying the chain-belt in my lap so it was the same shape as my triangle. It’s very very kinky in an arty way.

The belt came into play frequently after this scene. I wrapped it round my hips with outfits to go out, I wore it with nothing else but one earring to tantalise my Boy, and I often used it to tie him to the bed, or his wrists behind his back.

One thing I have learned since I started Domming was the power of being feminine. I tend to dress very boyishly as a general rule, since I feel comfortable and powerful when I look butch. Wearing a clingy dress, stockings, and fancy underwear is a way of exercising power I'm not used to. It's a safe way of doing it - I feel vulnerable being feminine usually, but with my Boy I am entirely in control so more comfortable.
I got the sort of stockings they call hold-ups, rather than ones that go with a suspender belt, and made Cupid learn to remove them with his teeth. I don't dare to get a suspender belt, I suspect it'd be too complicated for my practical mind.

So, how about his clothes?

Lately, I've been playing around with the psychological effects of being dressed or not. Making him strip off while I'm still fully clothed adds to his humiliation and vulnerability, which seems to work for him. One of my favourite scenes recently involved me dressing him as a girl, in stockings, lacy pants and a girly dressing-gown. I stayed dressed throughout, and wore my boots, which bring me almost up to his height, and played about with the masculine/feminine dynamics. (I'll describe this scene in more detail later).

Similarly, when I'm being a sub I often femme up. I recently got a long skirt, which Cupid has made me wear when he's domming, with nothing underneath.

One of the first things I ordered Cupid to do was turn up on dates with no underwear on. I like this, because it's simple, no one can tell he's going commando, and it makes stripping him off so much easier. The first time I did this, when I was very insecure about domming, I wrote a text which ran:

"dinner at mine one night next week (not thurs). no arguments. No underwear. Pxxx."

I was going to delete it, but a more experienced friend sent it. Being shy of anything so brazen at that point, I thought it was too extreme and didn't dare, so she snatched the phone off me and sent it herself. I spent the next day in a tizz wondering if he'd run a mile, but he turned up for dinner seriously thrilled by the idea, and obediently commando.

Within the last fortnight, I gave Cupid the same order for an evening out at the cinema. Due to a change of plan, I slept at his place the previous night, and I noticed in the morning when he dressed that he put his boxers on. I kept quiet, and spent the day looking forward to punishing him for forgetting. When I met him from work that night, I performed my usual inconspicuous grope to check, and found that he'd remembered after all, and obviously changed at work. I had no option but to be very pleased with him and promise him a treat for being an obedient Boy.

On Minxing

Minxing is an adaptation of bratting that Cupid and I came up with.

Bratting is hard to define, but it basically involves being cheeky. Putting your tongue out at a Dom is simply asking for a spanking. Deliberate cheek like the girl in 'Secretary' putting a cockroach on the bed is also pretty typical brat behaviour.

We invented the idea of minxing after I'd been reading a lot of the Pink Bottomed Girls' blog, which is full of very cool ideas. I'd not come across the idea of bratting, and it didn't seem like Cupid's thing, because although he has a mischeivous streak, when I'm in my Psyche mode he is very obediant, and it's often difficult to catch him out and find something to punish him for.

We got talking about bratting a couple of months ago. While I liked the idea of my Boy being cheeky, bratting seemed to me to lean into a territory of age-play that I'm not into. So I suggested we adapt the concept to 'minxing', which has connotations of both a naughty child, and a naughty sexually-aware young woman.
The Boy argued that this was a bit feminine, but I rather like the gender-play of making my Boy act slightly more feminine that he usually does. So I overruled the objection by tickling him till he gave in.

Since then, he has been occasionally minxy, but most recently he was very naughty about repeatedly disobeying me:

Then we lay on his bed and kissed lots. He minxed by continually putting his thigh over mine after I’d told him not to. He often does this, but this time I decided to pick him up on it. I told him I didn’t need to be pinned down, and he kept doing it to be minxy. The second time, I told him off. The third time, when he did it again and asked if he was still not allowed to, he was asking for trouble, so I made him take off his trousers. I bit and savaged his inner thighs, which are extremely sensitive, and caused him to thrash and giggle. He loved it, but it was very painful. I made him keep quiet, which he's usually quite good at. The biting was too much for him though, and when he squealed I turned him over and smacked him.
Sometimes when I do this I make him keep count. This time I didn't order him to, and then asked him how many we were up to.
'I don't know, my Lady.'
'Why not?'
'You didn't tell me to count, my Lady...'
I smacked him again for answering me back.
Then when he was sufficiently punished for making a noise, I went back to biting his thighs. He still couldn't keep altogether quiet, so I spanked him again. Once his thighs were very red and raw, we went back to kissing, and I asked if he still felt like disobeying me?

On Feminism

Is BDSM feminist?

BDSM - especially male-Dom/female-sub BDSM - comes in for a lot of flak from feminists. Women being tied up and spanked? Women being ordered to perform sexual or domestic services for men? Doesn't this takes us right back to pre-Sixties attitudes, with a spice of porn to keep the men amused?

I think you can be a sub and a feminist. Two of the strongest, most confident, and most liberated women I know are subs. From my own experience, the day after I play sub, I go out feeling a huge confidence rush. Maybe it's easier to be confident to the world if you let your guard down in the bedroom?

Feminism is about women's equality, and part of that concept is a freedom to explore your own sexuality. If your sexuality doesn't conform to modern, liberated, female ideals of sex, does this make you a bad feminist?
That's as logical as the old joke, 'When we get freedom for all, you'll do as you're told!'

I have heard it suggested that female subs are expressing hatred for their bodies, and their desire to be punished echoes this internalised self-hatred. The film 'Secretary' - while a very good movie - did little to get rid of this perspective, by making such a clear link between self-harming and being a sub. While there is some overlap between those headspaces, I don't think for a moment that one can be neatly substituted for the other. The film did neither self-harmers, nor submissives, any favours

I can see how negative feelings about oneself could be a factor in some subbing. Lately, due to stresses in other fields of my life, I've felt a need to sub slightly more, to have it confirmed that I'm a bad girl and ought to be punished, and to catharsise various guilts.
But who doesn't feel this from time to time? Who doesn't have feelings of guilt, worthlessness, or self-hatred? It would be lovely for them not to exist, and for no one to experience them, but they are there and have to be dealt with. It's got to be better to deal with them in a safe space of BDSM play, with a Dom there to provide catharsis, and then give you aftercare and reassurance? Better than other, much more destructive ways of expressing self-hatred.

And if you have no such issues, and possess an uncomplicated kink for spanking or obeying orders, then go for it!

The question is reversed when it comes to Domme/boy-sub relations. Surely, a woman who is quite literally cracking the whip, demanding what she wants and getting it, is in the vanguard of liberation?

Good question. Because, if I look at typical Dominatrix outfits subjectively, they reassemble a lot of the women's clothes I really object to. (I'll cover this more in a post on Clothes at some point). The outfit has huge boots, which are practically impossible to walk in, clinging material, leather, metal - in fact it's a fairly pornographic get-up. Do Dommes make themselves into a walking (teetering?) pin-up for their subs?

Maybe if you're a Pro-Domme it's par for the course, but that's not an area I have experience of. With Cupid, I use few props and outfits, but I use them effectively. Also, whatever I use is chosen because it turns me on. There is now a feedback loop, since I know what Cupid likes, and it turns me on to wear something I know will turn him on. In my view, that's not dressing for men, but dressing for me. Besides, it's usually underwear that no one but Cupid ever finds out I'm wearing.

For me, domming is the perfect opportunity to get more of what I want in bed. Before I learned to dom, I was quite happy to be demanding in bed, and make it very clear about what I wanted.
Lately, I've been more aware of the mutuality of BDSM.
On one level, I'm in control and I can get what I want, but on another, it's important to give the Boy what he likes as well.

Having a kink for BDSM can be something you dabble with, or a fundamental part of your sexuality. Either way, the broadest school of feminist thought allows for women's freedom to explore their sexuality. How you play can be feminist or not, but kink is not political.

On Consent

Consent is not optional. Consent is essential.

I hold this for any form of sex, particularly for BDSM. Any sensible Domme is careful about consent. Being in control of someone, physically or emotionally or both, is a huge responsibility.
Conversely, subs enjoy not being in control of the action, but a safety net is vital to keep things in control.
Checking the sub's limits beforehand, slipping out of character to make sure everything is OK, and talking over a scene afterwards to pick up on improvements at once, go a huge way to keeping it safe. But the most important thing is the safeword.

It might seem easy for me, because as a Domme playing with a male sub, it seems there isn't much I can do to him which would go beyond the limits. There is a silly stereotype of masculinity, a perception of men as too 'strong' to need to give consent, of their being 'in control' whatever scene is being played. This is far from the truth.
In fact, I don't believe there is any difference between our play and a same-sex pairing or a male Dom/female sub scene. I work on the principle that anything I would be uncomfortable experiencing is off-limits for me to do to my Boy, unless he says otherwise.

Cupid and I use 'Palestine' as a safeword. One of the things I am proud of is that he's never had to use it in a scene. I've taken him close to the limits, but never too far.
According to the diary, the first time the safeword issue arose had little to do with sex. We were in a club, and Cupid was reluctant to dance to a song I really liked. I took his hand and led him to the dance-floor, with the words 'You're my sub and you'll do what I want.'
Later, we talked this over - it was a night of much conversation, and the first occasion I really started to understand Cupid - and I realised I'd been insensitive. I felt bad for exercising my 'bedroom' powers in public to get something I wanted:

I said that if I was domming him at any point, he had only to say Palestine and I would drop the issue like a hot brick. He said the safeword was for when it hurt, not when he didn’t want to do something. I persisted that when the two overlapped, he must use it. He said it was fine, being dommed into doing things was very nice.

I didn't understand at the time. I was confused by the idea that things he wasn't into could become fun, once he was told to do them. I gave the order that night because I was slightly drunk and wanted my own way, not because I realised at the time that he'd enjoy it.

Since then, I've got much more confident in giving orders and pushing limits. For example, I've recently introduced spanking into our sex life, and he likes it, not because he's specifically into pain - being more fond of psychological control - but because I tell him to take it.
Cupid's attitude demands a bit of second-guessing. I have to work out the space between something he will take if I tell him to, and what is entirely beyond his limits. Knowing him better has made this easier.

More recently, I misread him slightly. We were on a coach with the back seat to ourselves, and the five seats in front were empty. I'd been very cruel in bed that morning and refused to make him come, so I was playing with him under cover of his coat. I was close to making him come, but I when asked him if he wanted me to, he said no, so I left off.
Later, he told me if I had made him come anyway, it wouldn't have been a safeword issue. I'd misread his reactions there, assuming that he didn't like the idea of being made to come in public.
In fact, I think what appeals to him is the illusion of not being in control. This is a recurring theme with Cupid. If I pin him down and tell him I'm going to make him come whether he likes it or not, he really enjoys it. My taking control, and his relinquishing it to me, is a huge thrill for him.

That, however, is not going beyond consent, but playing with the limits of what is allowable. I think that's where BDSM has its appeal - it allows you to explore some darker edges of your self. It's cathartic, it goes close to the limits, but ultimately it's safe. That's precisely why consent is so important, because if you're not playing safely, it stops being play and becomes something else.

Bits of the previous two posts have reduced in size to lines of Morse code.
I have no idea why.
Normal service will be resumed as soon as I work out what's going on.

Psyche
xx

On Words II

This is a scene I wrote in my diary, partly as a fantasy, partly as a model for verbal domming.

'OK, pretty Boy, come here. Down. Good boy. [I stroke his hair, maybe take it down at this point. He goes to hug me] Don’t touch. Not till I say. [I push his hands back to him. More kissing. Then I lean back and look him up and down very frankly] Take your shirt off [he does. I look some more, then pinch his nipple, hard.] Mmm. Very pretty. [I stroke him. Maybe kiss him a bit. Break away] How does it feel to be put exactly where you belong – kneeling at my feet? [he says – something nice. I find some omission – he hasn’t said ‘my Lady’ or similar. I correct him.] Better. So, remind me, who’s in control? [‘You are’ – presumably] Good. Don’t forget that. And who are you here to please? [‘you’ I expect. If the slightest hesitation or wrong answer] You don’t seem very sure. Let me remind you. [slap on the face] Does that make it clearer? Try again – who’s in control? [right answer]
Good. Good boy. [more affectionate kissing, etc. He goes to hug me again.] What did I tell you earlier? Don’t touch. Put your hands behind your back. Look at the floor. [I fool with him, more erotically this time – tease his neck] Does that feel good? [‘Yes’] It’s more than you deserve. Isn’t it? [‘Yes’] Lately, you’ve been getting rather out of hand, haven’t you? Haven’t you? I said, look at the floor. If I had meant ‘look at my crotch’, I would have said so. [I pull his hair to get his head back into position] You’ve been very – troublesome lately. I seem to remember you coming into my room and failing to kneel down. And ‘forgetting’ to follow my instructions on Sunday. And you seem to think it’s up to you to dictate in bed. [Brief stroking] Remind me, who are you here to please? [‘you my Lady’] So, not you, by any chance? [‘no my Lady’] Good. You seem to have got the idea. [Kiss] But I shall still have to punish you. This is what I’m going to do. [I'm tickling the base of his spine here – when he wriggles, I tell him off for fidgetting] I’m going to tie you up, and use you however I want – or if I get bored, I might just leave you there. You’re going to do exactly as I say throughout, and if you’re very good, I might let you come. On the other hand, since you’ve been so bad lately, I shall probably decide to leave you in suspense. Understood?
Get up. Take off your socks but leave your trousers on. I don’t want you to freeze – I may be cruel but I’m not unkind. On the bed. [sitting astride his hips, I tie his arms at the top corners of the bed, then stretch his legs out and tie them to the bottom corners. Then I blindfold him. I get up and take off my pullover – leaving my black bra and black trousers. Sitting on his crotch, I look down at him, and touch him, fool about, whatever seems good to turn him on; also mild tickling.] Keep still. I said, keep still. [I do something to make him make a noise] Hush, you’re too loud. Bad boy. You’re not doing too well with this obedience idea, are you now? [I start biting, or pinching his inner thighs, which will definitely make him squeal]. Will you stop that row? I’m quite happy to go and tell your housemates why you’re making a row, and what you did to deserve it. Do you want me to? [‘No’] Well then, keep the noise down. [More tickling] I said, keep still. Oh, you’re impossible. I give up. You can stay there till you calm down a bit.'

EITHER (Scene 1) 'I’m going to sit and read in the corner. Now, I shall take the blindfold off. But you are to keep looking at the ceiling, do you understand? [I get up, take off a few more clothes] The ceiling, I said! Do you want me to go home and leave you like that? Well then, behave. [I produce my book and sit in the corner reading it] Have you read this? It’s very lesbian. There are beautiful women licking each others’ breasts by about page five. [I let this sink in] Oh, I’ve just got to the bit with the baby oil. Good grief. Are you fidgetting? No? Good. [pause. Then a laugh] God, this is kinky. There are three of them now, all naked and oiled up and pretty. [pause]. Tell me if I’m boring you. [if he wants me to come back to him] I’m having much too much fun. Oh, they’ve started going down on each other. Mmm. [pause. I may just start fondling my own breasts at this point.] Oh, they’ve found a man who was watching them, and they’re trying to decide whether to fuck him or spank him. [pause] They’re going to fuck him. How unimaginative. [I abandon the book and go back to the bed] I hope that didn’t bore you terribly. [I feel his cock.] Ah, apparently not. [I sit on him again]

OR (Scene 2) [I leave the room with no indication of if or when I’m coming back. I count to a hundred or so. Then return, and sit on him again.] ‘I bet you’ve been lying there longing for me to get back, haven’t you? [yes] Good. That’s part of the punishment. So, tell me, what else were you thinking of? [I have no idea of the answer to that one – maybe ‘how bad I’ve been’ ] No, you’re saying that to please me. [or, if ‘oiled up lesbians’ or similar] You don’t learn, do you? Bad boy. [I slap his face] I could guess what you’re thinking now, too, looking at me like this. You’re thinking how you’d like to fuck me, aren’t you? [I speak softly and insinuatingly] you’re thinking how good that would be? ['yes'] But not tonight. You’ve been much too bad. But…[I undo his trousers, which are still on, and tease him]. Are you feeling very ill-treated because I haven’t been touching you? Well, now I’m going to show you how much crueller I can be when I do. Look at you, all thrilled and wound up. [I tease him extensively] I do enjoy doing this to you. You look very very pretty like that. [more teasing] You turn me on when you’re all helpless and thrilled. [I continue along these lines until he is really REALLY turned on.] Actually, I’m going to finish myself off. You can just wait till I feel like doing things for you. [I don’t think I shall make him come]

I didn't, in the end.

On words and names

What's in a name? The setting of a scene, a shift of mood and atmosphere, and the difference between respect and downright cheekiness.
The way I use language for domming is crucial - especially control domming, rather than straightforward pain-play.

Starting with names, I have a list of questions I wrote in my diary, from my early days, which includes a language query:

Can I get him to call me ‘Lady’ or ‘Mistress’ (or ‘Sir’) or something, and thank me for attentions? That would be hardcore for me. Can I catechise him ("Am I beautiful?" "Yes" "What am I?" "You’re beautiful, Psyche.")?

He started by calling me Mistress, but to me 'mistress' had unpleasant overtones - it made me think of a woman wearing red fishnet stockings in the back seat of an MP's car.
I decided 'Lady' was better. Cupid gave this his own spin, once I'd told him how I wanted to be addressed, and called me 'My Lady'. Occasionally, he forgets and addresses me as Mistress. This gets him into big trouble. Who, I demand, is your mistress?

His name, insofar as he has one, is Boy. Usually 'Bad Boy', or to a third party, 'My Boy'. To me, 'Boy' says sweet, post-adolescent but not quite grown up, carrying none of the baggage of adulthood and masculinity.

The use of words is more complicated. Talking dommy was the most difficult part of the process at first, and I used to plan out my words in my diary before playing a scene. I spent a lot of time trying to work out how to give orders without sounding negative. As I was very nervous about this, I worked it out in detail.

All the orders, I think, need to be given firmly, and strongly, but not too loudly, with no Umming and Erring, no excessive use of the word ‘just’, which is a bit femmy and conciliating – ‘just do this’ makes it an implied request. Also very firm clear commands, and no shyness about the vocabulary. But conversely they must be positive, avoiding ‘Don’t’, especially when correcting his technique.

This is drawn from a passage where I planned my first full-length scene. It involved kinky boots, a black pearl necklace, lots of cunnilingus, and not much else. I needed to be very clear with the orders, because for me oral sex does not work if it's hit and miss, I have to direct it very precisely.

A month later, I was working out how to do verbal domming more generally:

Verbal domming, can I do that? How far can I go, is occasional teasing, references to ‘naughty boy’ enough? Can I go into a character and give direct orders? Without any humour or sign of gratitude/pleasure? Can I be verbally abusive and seem serious about it, e.g. name-calling, ‘you slut’ etc? Can I tonguelash if it’s done wrong? What are off-limits as subject for teasing/savagery?

The idea of 'going into a character' plays into a few things Cupid and I are into. I use act in my school days, and can get into character and keep to it if necessary. Cupid plays role-playing games, a branch of the same thing, and has a better grasp of staying in character, and improvised acting, than I ever will. So for both of us, going 'into character' is not an alien concept. I was starting to play role-playing games with Cupid, and had worked out a character of my own to play, but improvisation was still scaring me. Since I'm very reluctant to be loud or bossy, and have never been in any position of authority, the idea of giving direct orders to someone I didn't know that well was frightening. I began to consider adopting a character who could be the other side of myself, and was comfortable with giving orders. I did, in the end, and called her Psyche.

Name-calling I regarded as off-limits for a long time. I only discovered that Cupid liked it last month. In his experiments in domination, he tends to call me names and make me repeat them back.
"You're a filthy little slut. What are you?"
"I'm a filthy little slut, Sir."
I eventually started doing the same thing to him and found that it really excited him. I use variations on his theme - 'bad slut', 'kinky little slut', and when he's good, 'my beautiful slut'. I couldn't explain what magic the word holds for him, but it undoubtedly works.
I couldn't call him anything unequivocally unkind in the context of a scene, or any context. That, I know, would be off-limits. Cupid has had bad experiences with genuinely ill-meant verbal abuse, and I don't have any intention of reopening wounds.

So the words I use are important. From the first order I give, Cupid knows he must respond 'Yes, my Lady'. Instantly, the scene is set. Even if I send him a text signed 'your Lady', he knows we are 'in character'. Talking slutty to him gets us both excited, and giving clear orders gets me exactly what I want from Cupid, and keeps him in order.

I've spun this article out, so in 'On Words II', I'll include a passage from my diary of four months ago, where I wrote a whole scene as dialogue.

On beginnings

Where to start?

There are a hundred starts to any story. One could go back to the way I was disciplined as a child, if you're a Freudian, or the online conversations I had about BDSM with a man I never met.

But I think I shall start with the belt.
I was finding it decidedly awkward to hold Cupid's arms above his head with one hand and tickle him with the other. We had been seeing each other for a matter of weeks, and while the subject of BDSM, and especially his subby nature, had come up, this was the first time I did anything about it.

I was sitting on top of him, a position which comes fairly naturally to us, and holding his wrists together above his head. To my delight, he looked very much like a painting of Saint Sebastian, stripped and tied up, except that he wriggled more.
Holding him down was keeping me busy, so I said 'This is really getting awkward. I think I should tie you to the bed.'

It was a throwaway line, but he was delighted at the idea and my bed at that time had a conveniently barred headboard, like an old dormitory bed. I rose and fetched my belt, as the most logical thing to use. It, like me, looks the last thing you'd associate with BDSM. It's a grey one I found in a sale ages ago, not even leather, but grey cloth.
I sat astride Cupid again, and as I looped the belt inexpertly between his wrists and the bars, I said 'The safeword is Palestine, ok?'

(I got that from "Desperate Housewives", where Bree's attempt to think of a serious safeword produces a solemn look and the suggestion 'How about Palestine?')
It didn't occur to me to ask if the Boy had a safeword he used already. I don't think, though I may be wrong, that he'd used one before, other than saying 'too much!' if it ever was.
I was quite happy to dictate that we were going to be strictly consensual about this. Consent is something I will write on later, at length, and probably with vehemence. Right now, I wanted to be sure that I kept within the boundaries.

Once I had the Boy secured, I was slightly at a loss for what to do next. So I kept tickling him. I really adore the way he wriggles when I do this, and his helpless laughter. I also took the chance of biting him a fair bit. Love-bites are a delightful balance along the pleasure-pain barrier, and I revelled in the opportunity of inflicting a few with no resistance. I managed to scrape my front teeth along his collar-bone and hurt him, which temporarily put me off biting at all. At this point in the learning process, I was deeply unsure of myself and entirely prepared to stop and say it wasn't my thing at the least set-back.

Then I had a bright idea, involving a recurring question of my sex life. I have an oddly-built and highly individual pussy, which only answers to me. No one else can make me come, I have to either do it myself or do without.
So I whispered 'I'm going to make myself come, and you're going to wait for me and watch.'

I think that was the first remotely verbal domming I'd done. I'm quite happy to dictate things in bed, but it never occurred to me to tease before. Also, it got me neatly over the question of whether to do it myself and make the Boy feel awkward, or leave out my orgasm altogether.
He then initiated the habit of sucking my fingers, and I made him come manually. Then he was released from my amateurish attempt at bondage, and the belt was thrown on the floor.

In the hugging-fest which followed, we got talking about the dom-sub dynamic. I was curious and asked him to dom me a bit.
From his point of view, this was tricky, partly because it was new to him and partly because his long hair keeps falling over his face when he's on top. Nevertheless, he held both my hands above my head with one of his, and dommed me very mildly, his face ultra-serious.
I liked the change of dynamic and enjoyed being passive. What I enjoyed about it, I think, was the sudden absence of responsibility. He stopped after a short while and said he found it difficult to dom, because he had to keep reminding himself that I liked it. I noted at the time that for a 'gentlemanly' boy, pretending to force a girl must be more complicated than it is for a girl to dom a boy.

That was the first time I tried domming in any form, and it didn't occur to me that it might ever be a major part of my life. It was simply a slightly new kink to play about with.

I made notes in my diary the next day of where I might take this.

Memo – Things to do to Cupid
Tickling – find the psychological moment to stop, ditto to start again. When he's relaxed and not expecting it..
Tie him up in different places?
Learn to dom verbally.
Make him watch me come. Better still, make him listen. Blindfold him?
He likes sucking my fingers. Take fingers away to tease him. Ditto breasts, mouth.
Straddle his face?
He has long hair I can grab, and push him down to my breasts, pussy, etc.

I was already full of domming ideas, but I didn't start thinking of myself as a dom for some time.

Setting the scene II

And I am Cupid, her Boy and her lover. Unlike my Lady, I don't keep a diary, although this may prove to be a reasonable approximation to one.

Also unlike my Lady, I'd had experience with domination and submission before we met. More accurately, I'd had experience with submission. (Taking control is just one of many things which I've learned to do - or am learning to do - while with her, whenever my Lady feels the need to switch roles for a while.)

I say I've had experience with submission. What I mean is that I've played with being held down, tied down, or bitten. There'd been very little command and very little control. Not that the other stuff isn't fun - it is, it really is - but it's purely physical fun, and there's only so far one can go with the purely physical.

Setting the scene

A writer needs to work with her reader. She needs to keep control and give freedom. She needs to know the limits, to give and gain pleasure in doing what she is good at.

A domme needs to know her sub. She needs to keep control and give freedom. She needs to know his limits, to give and gain pleasure in doing what she is good at.

If you're reading this, we have started a scene.


I am Psyche, and I'm a domme. I am also an aspiring writer, and at the promptings of Cupid, my Boy, I'm combining both skills in the form of this blog.

Practically speaking, there are things you should know. This is intended to be a document based upon fact, drawn from detailed diaries I've kept while learning to dom. I'm going to speak in the present tense throughout, for simplicity. Also, I will fictionalize for the sake of anonymity and to show the links which are obvious in hindsight.
The Boy has the password for this blog and will be posting on here as well.