An Experiment

‘Turn your head,’ I said. He stared at me, side eyed and unmoving. I eyed him with mounting disapproval. ‘I’ll give you one more chance. Turn. Your. Head.’ Nothing.

He was afraid I would bite him, leaving those blotchy purple marks that the word ‘hickey’ was woefully under-equipped to describe. (Fun fact: on a previous occasion, a friend asked him if he had been punched in the neck).

Funnily enough, I had no intention of biting him, after seeing the discomfort the previous marks had caused. He wasn’t to know that though. He was staring at me, wide-eyed and apprehensive.

I picked up the heavy metal rod I had picked up at LAM the day before, trailing it over his skin. My tests of assorted impact play tools had (by sheer and utter coincidence naturally) all hit the same places, leaving a smattering of deep purple bruises over his thighs.

He shifted in discomfort. I took the opportunity to settle down next to him, trapping him against the back of the sofa. I pinned his legs flat with one of mine and began tapping his thighs with the rod, just letting gravity do the work.

I considered what I was going to do. The week previously he had resisted me throughout a vicious punishment caning. There was no space, no surrender then, and to be fair, I hadn’t cared. I had taken what I wanted and enjoyed it.

Afterwards, however, he had told me he felt annoyed at me, defiant, and that wouldn’t do. ‘You know,’ I said, ‘I don’t know why I bother.’

He looked away from the rod for a moment. He was scared and in space. More often than not, the two went hand in hand.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said,

‘I don’t know why I bother correcting you, when it evidently has no effect.’ The metal rod kept bouncing against his bruises, but he was no longer paying it much attention.

He swallowed. ‘What do you mean?’ I put down the rod, and folded my arms across my chest.

‘Well, I just punished you for not letting me kiss your neck a few weeks ago. Evidently, it’s had no effect.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He meant it. He always meant it, and it was rarely sufficient.

‘I don’t know why I bother,’ I repeated, looking away. A part of me felt genuinely disappointed in him. A part of me felt glee at the little plan which was beginning to form. I sensed his anxiety, and steadfastly stared at the ceiling, reveling in it.

‘Maybe I’ve been unfair to you. Maybe I’ve expected too much of you.’ He looked in equal measure apprehensive and confused.

‘Perhaps I have wasted my time trying to correct you. It’s evidently had no effect. Perhaps you are just a toy. ‘

My nails traced across the half-moon marks on his hip left from where I had dug them in earlier.

‘Perhaps I should give up on correcting you altogether. Just hurt you, as I please. Until I get tired.’ That sharp intake of breath. The wide eyes. The fear. I felt my face smile the smile.

‘No, please.’ The confusion melted into pure fear. ‘Please no.’

‘No? And why not?’

‘Because I don’t want that.’

‘And since when does what you want matter?’

‘It doesn’t.’

‘So, why no then?’ I could see him trying to think.

‘You said you saw something worth training in me?’

‘Well, that was then. Now, you’ve done something I just corrected you for last week. Again. I’m starting to think that there’s no point.’

‘No, please. I’ll do whatever you want.’

‘But if you are just a toy, I can take what I want, how I want, with no regard for you.’

‘But I want to be more than that, I am more then that…’

‘Evidently not.’

There was a moment of silence, and we went through that exchange in slightly varying words a few times before finally, approaching what I was aiming for.

‘Why should I put any effort into correcting you if it’s not going to have any effect?’ I said.

‘Why should I put any effort into correcting you if it’s not going to have any effect?’ I said.

‘Please let me prove that it does.’

‘How? You can’t seem to even follow simple commands.’

‘Please, let me show you…’

‘How?’

‘Whatever you want…’

I half laughed. ‘If I have to do all your thinking for you, you’re evidently nothing more than a toy.’

‘Please…’

‘And if that’s the case, I really shouldn’t waste my time correcting you, given it has no effect, and you’ll just make the same mistake next week…’

‘No! Please, it does have an effect. I can be better, please. I will be better, please. Please let me show you.’

‘How?’ I pressed. Later, he told me he knew exactly the corner I had pushed him into. A part of him just didn’t want to give me the satisfaction.

‘Because this time will be different.’

‘How so?’

‘Because… because… I want you to correct me. I’m sorry. Please… please… punish me.’

Finally. I smiled. And then I made him say it again.

The Smile

There is a smile I smile whenever I am in a sadistic vein. I can’t help it. It’s entirely involuntary. I can just feel my face doing it. I have tried to stop it. It’s impossible. My face is just set on doing it.

I thought about it somewhat today, and how to describe it, and this will be a bit convoluted, so bear with me here.

There’s a phrase from what is quite possibly the worst book ever written – well, it’s a novella really. ‘The Eye of Argon’. A ‘Conan the Barbarian’ rip-off, written by the one and only Jim Theis, armed only with his barely working type writer and much abused thesaurus.

It is so atrocious that the editor who came across it thought that reading it out loud would make an excellent party game – you laugh, you pass on the ‘hideous entertainment’, to quote the editor-discoverer. I’ve played it repeatedly, it’s heaps of fun, especially when everyone is appropriately pickled.

Anyway, from amongst the word salad that is ‘The Eye of Argon’, this one phrase has stuck in my head; ‘a sadistic grin of knowing mirth’. My own personal standards won’t allow me to adopt this mangled wreckage of a sentence, hence this rather convoluted backstory. Whenever I try to describe that smile, however, it’s the only phrase which comes to mind.

That smile is at once knowing, amused, and sadistic. Or at least, that’s how I feel in the moment – the cool, calmness of the sadism combines with a joy, a pure contentment in the moment, and that extra satisfaction, that glee, that I know what is coming.

I can see he’s scared and I alone know what is coming, what I’m going to do. I suppose there is no greater edge, no greater power, than knowing someone’s fate when they themselves do not.

‘Can I be your sub?’

This particularly inane question comes in two main variants; either in the opening message, or after a few questions about me, with very little effort to engage with my answers.

In short, if you’re asking, then the answer is very probably no.

D/s dynamics develop organically, over time. They take conversation and getting to know one another. There are people I have ‘played’ with repeatedly and would still not call ‘my sub’, because that requires a certain level of intimacy and connexion. Even if I wanted to, I can’t wave a magic wand and generate all of that with someone I have barely talked to, let alone met.

Moreover, the fact that someone wants to submit to me having barely exchanged two sentences shows that either (i) they are desperate and have no sense of self worth or, more usually, (ii) that they have no idea what submission entails and want a role play.

Either way, that generally does not make for a good first impression.

On Mind Games

I have been fortunate enough to have the opportunity to explore some of the darker, CNC parts of D/s, which has included quite a lot of rather delicious mind fuckery. The high has been intense and beautiful.

It has however proven surprisingly difficult to talk about, because the first question I have been asked by quite a few people is ‘what did you do to him?’. Now, when I came to think of what I did, the series of acts itself seemed… unimpressive. What had formed a beautifully powerful experience for the two of us put into black and white seems mundane and dull.

This is largely because D/s and the consequent exchange of power doesn’t lie in acts at all, but rather the mental space in and around those acts. As a dominant, if you can understand your submissive, their psychology, and their ‘buttons’, you can do far more than control their body – you can control their mind. This, from any perspective, is much more powerful, but is perhaps best illustrated like this – it is very difficult to make any physical restraint desperate person proof. It is far easier to ensure they don’t really try to escape in the first place.

On Sadism – The Narrative of Punishment

Amongst the huge volume of badly written, presumptuous mental bio-hazards which end up in my inbox, ‘punish me, Mistress‘ is one which crops up exceedingly often. Every time I open a message like this, even before the exasperation manages to catch up to me, is just the thought ‘for what?!’

Now, I appreciate that these messages come from people who have no idea about D/s, and view ‘punishment’ as kinky fun times with a latex-clad domme and her non-ergonomic handled flogger.

Nevertheless, the idea that I would refer to [insert method of inflicting pain de jour] as punishment bothers me.

I am a sadist. I make absolutely no secret of this fact. If I want to hurt a submissive, I WILL JUST DO IT. I don’t need an excuse. I don’t need to contrive some obscure transgression. I will hurt them because I enjoy it. Because I am a sadist.

What is more, to my mind, it would be disingenuous and unfair to the sub to do otherwise. An inherent part of at least most submissives is a desire to please. As a dynamic develops, that desire grows stronger. The will of their dominant becomes more and more important – the idea of pleasing the dominant goes beyond wanting to make someone else happy. Far enough into subspace, it can even seem like their primary purpose for existing. In that space, disappointing their dominant is an acutely unpleasant feeling.

Now, that is naturally not an inherently bad thing. It can be very useful to me, where there is something to punish. It doesn’t make hurting them any less enjoyable. It’s just that if I, a sadist, want to enjoy hurting a masochist, this does not necessarily need to be an unpleasant experience for them – masochists enjoy getting hurt. I enjoy hurting them. There is no reason this cannot be mutually enjoyable where it is for my pleasure.


Note: I am aware of the idea of ‘funishments’, but they are a separate topic, and to my mind ‘punishment’ refers to actual punishment.

The Taming of the Shrew

Shakespeare is perhaps not the first place that someone’s mind might go when thinking of D/s, but I have been fond of ‘The Taming of the Shrew’ since I first read it.

For those unfamiliar with it, here’s a quick plot synopsis:

A wealthy man of Padua has two daughters; one, Bianca, is the ideal of submissive virtue, the other, Katharina, being the titular shrew. Contenders to Bianca’s hand come up with a scheme to marry off the shrewish Kate, thus leaving the path to the altar clear for the object of their desire. A young man, Petruchio, undertakes to marry Kate, and eventually succeeds in conforming her to the ideal of the submissive and obedient wife.

This being a Shakespearean comedy, there are plenty of complications, cases of mistaken identity and a good dose of crude humour, but that is largely irrelevant to my interest.

Whilst superficially, it may seem strange for a female dominant to be fond of a play that apparently extols the virtue of female submission, the genders have always seemed of minor importance to me. It’s the systematic process of breaking down someone’s will, which so casually slips by unnoticed in this classical work of literature, which has always fascinated me.

The implications became exceedingly apparent when I recently saw an adaption where the genders were reversed. To see a much reduced, bedraggled, and desperate Kate proclaim that he would believe the sun was the moon or a candle or anything else she pleased, on his knees before and smiling and vaguely amused Petruchia was… entertaining, to say the least.

Forward, I pray, since we have come so far,
And be it moon, or sun, or what you please:
An if you please to call it a rush-candle,
Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.

Act 4, Scene 5

I wonder if anyone else in the audience had a similar reflection.

‘Ask me anything’

I have been answering quite a large volume of messages recently, and I thought I would write some posts on the things which bother me most often, and why. I would think I am not the only Domme who is bothered by these, but your mileage may vary.

Ask me anything’ whilst, in itself, a laudable sentiment (which I share), but in my experience, it usually comes about three messages into the conversation, and that is what makes it irksome, because… Well, someone tell me what normal human conversation goes like this:

‘Hello’

‘Hi’

‘Ask me anything’

A vast number of Kik conversations I’ve had

What this tends to indicate is that the person in question is fishing for my list of specific requirements. If I had a list of requirements pertaining to physical characteristics or certain kinks, I would just post it. Seriously. It would make my life considerably easier.

Unfortunately, what I look for is somewhat more elusive – intelligence, a sense of humour, and a genuine desire for submission. There’s only one way to see if someone has any of those qualities, and that’s normal, human conversation.

Which brings me to my second issue with this – it usually means the person in question is completely missing the point. What I want from an introductory conversation is something interesting about *the other person*. I want a joke, a bad pun, a story of something inane which happened the other day. A random fact, a thing they read, I don’t know… a picture of a stack of toads (yes, that’s a thing, no, please don’t now flood me with pictures of toads). I want a little bit of creativity. I want something that makes me want to engage further with that person.

Interrogating random people who have just said ‘hello’ to me isn’t my idea of fun, and quite frankly, given that most of these come from people whose PMs are filled with various flavours of sub speak about ‘serving’ and ‘worshipping’ me, I would hope a moment of thought wouldn’t be that much to ask for.

Vulnerability

Vulnerability is what, to my mind, defines submission. That is to say, it is the ingredient which elevates a series of acts, be they sexual, fetishistic, or otherwise, from a game to a facet of reality. It is a rather intangible thing and, while this is not my first attempt to write about it, it certainly won’t be my last.

As a starting point, I keep returning to what it isn’t: that is, something achievable through someone giving me a list of facts about themselves.

Now, I say this because that is exactly what I have received whenever I have attempted to explain this concept. This is rather to be expected from those who think of me a fetish dispenser, which will operate automatically once they satisfy a checklist of arbitrary requirements. But they are not the only ones who incessantly try to find some sort of shortcut, and honestly, I understand the enthusiasm – the moment when the barriers drop is, for me, undoubtedly one of the most deeply exciting things within the development of a dynamic.

It is the moment from which I can touch them in ways far beyond the momentary and physical. It is the moment from which my control begins to extend far beyond ropes and whips. In short, it is the moment when a true exchange of power begins.

And it is absolutely beautiful.

The problem (or one of many problems) is that it is unlikely that most would be able to give me the roadmap I’d need to take a shortcut to that – few people have a sufficient understanding of themselves to know how to drop the barriers we all put up between ourselves and reality to survive, consciously and at once and, of those, an even smaller number are actually willing to.

That said, that is categorically not a bad thing. Yes, it means it takes time and patience for me to delve into someone’s psyche and to understand what really makes them tick, but that careful untangling of a sub is its own pleasure for me. More importantly, it also builds the necessary trust and mutual understanding for the dynamic to flourish.

So, whilst I’m not generally a patient person, I think it is safe to conclude that this is one of those things which just should not be rushed.

On Sadism – ‘So take it out on me’

If I happened to mention I am having a bad day in the course of conversation with a potential sub, I can usually expect something along the lines of ‘so take it out on me‘ in reply.

I’m sure nine times out of ten the sub saying that just wants to use it as a segue to fun kinky topics (and, ideally fun kinky fun), but the concept bothers me. Not only are there volumes to be said as to the relative right, wrong, and health and safety of using a sub as a stress ball but, at least me, that is not how sadism works for me.

Sadism is not an outlet for me.

Yes, I enjoy inflicting pain but that enjoyment doesn’t come from anger, or any other emotion, for that matter. It is its own calm, specific pleasure. When I do get angry, for example, it’s fleeting. To use a cliché, it burns out, and it’s gone.

Whether that happens in five minutes or a few hours, sparkler or candle, it will always run out of fuel. Sadism, on the other hand, if I’m running with the analogies here, is more like an underground lake – perfectly still and calm, dark on the surface and yet somehow perfectly darker the deeper you get.

The two are not only separate, but fundamentally incompatible with one another. Sadism comes from a calm, happy, controlled place for me – it’s nothing to do with being unhappy or emotional.

It’s no outlet – just its own perfect pleasure.

‘So, what do you like doing to your subs?’

There’s a question that has been doggedly pursuing me, in its assorted variants, throughout my interactions with potential submissives:

‘So, what do you like doing to your subs?’

It seems a fairly innocuous question – a casual question about my interests to see whether they align. How could I possibly object?

Well, the answer starts with the fact that what I want from D/s is not confined within the specifics of a particular act. If all I wanted was to do something, say cane someone, I wouldn’t have to spend all of this time and effort talking and writing about kink. Putting aside the fact that I have a live-in submissive, I am fairly sure that, being female in this great age of the Internet, all you need is a photo of your ass and 15 minutes, and you will find a very willing subject to cane or spank or peg or whatever else is your heart’s desire.

But what I want from D/s is unfortunately far more nebulous than a ‘laundry list’ of my fetishes – it is bound up in the ever-elusive power exchange.

Now, of course, I am not saying that that ‘laundry list’ is not a relevant topic of discussion, even from the outset. At the end of the day, at least a few shared interests are a sort of foundation for a dynamic. However, when that question is asked, the person asking typically does not view it as a foundation – they want to play a game of ‘Snap’.

Now, I am sure that quite a lot of human interactions are basically conducted along the lines of ‘oh, me too’, and again there is nothing wrong with looking for common ground. The problem is, once you get past the initial common ground of ‘kink’, there exist a million permutations and definitions of anything more specific – say, someone is interested in ‘bondage’. Great. Does that mean that they like complex shibari ropework, or that they own one of those useless pairs of pink fluffy handcuffs? Do they like bondage for its own sake, no sex of any kind involved, or do they mean that they want to have rough sex whilst restrained? Or any one of the myriad of possibilities?

Now, that is naturally a conversation to have, but the problem is all of that nuance is completely non-existent when you present someone with a list. That can be quite damaging to a developing dynamic, mostly on account of what I’ve called ‘pedestalising’ – the expectation of dommes to be a certain kind of ‘perfect’ – a domme is distant, cold, and strictly set in her ways.

It is an image which leads subs to often hide their preferences, because they expect that a Domme will forcefully impose her own requirements. There is no room for the idea that a dynamic allows for their own preferences to be explored, even as they adapt to that of their dommes.

This often can lead to submissives, again especially novices, to see the kinks and preferences of a Domme as rigidly set in stone, as if we have a ‘one size fits all’ protocol for all out subs – a routine which mechanically plays out once a potential sub passes the mysterious test we apparently have to qualify as our submissive. There is no room for exploration, development, individuality.

Of course, there are plenty of moments when a domme will impose her preferences, which is inherently a part of whole idea of D/s. But to effectively ‘push’ a submissive to those depths of sub space, a domme needs to know what they love and what they hate; what is erotically humiliating for one sub can be downright insulting for another; where one sub will happily slip into subspace during an intense caning, for another it will be about as erotic as repeatedly stepping on Lego; where for one sub demanding daily photographs will further the dynamic, for another it will be nothing more than a daily inconvenience.

The problem is that many subs, once presented with such a list, will try to mould themselves to it, even if they have no interest in parts of it and, often not problematically, will hide their own interests if they haven’t been mentioned. At the point, if the dynamic develops, a lot of time will have to be wasted trying to unwind what is and isn’t true, and exactly where their interests lie, they will have to inevitably endure something that’s simply unpleasant for them, and I won’t have gotten what I want either.

All of this is very simply avoided through an open and honest conversation. As a Domme, I have no interest in making someone endure something that’s painful or uncomfortable if that’s the entirety of their experience. There’s absolutely no gratification in that.

I want to the total control that comes with power exchange, and that means knowing exactly how each thing impacts my submissive. I want to see where I can take a sub, mentally, to push them beyond their comfort zone, to see them in that exquisite combination of pleasure and pain. And, unfortunately, in my experience, answering that question just gets in the way of that.