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.
Saturday, 30 June 2007
Thursday, 21 June 2007
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.
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.
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:
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?
Sunday, 17 June 2007
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...
Wednesday, 13 June 2007
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.
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.
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.
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