KY His and Hers … WTF?

So I ‘m visiting my vanilla submissive who thinks what I am into is called M&M. He’s a good friend and we’ve known each other over a decade, I sometimes go visit him for a break from real life. I wish that (a) he weren’t married and (b) I had ANY physical attraction to him at all, because he is quite simply THE nicest, most attentive man in the world. In my past discussions about him I’ve shared that he was one of my first escorting clients, and that when I left the business, he mentored and supported me in my new business ventures- and still does. And, in return, I still treat him to my extra special companionship.

My m&m isn’t into many kinks or fetishes. Toys and lingerie are not really his thing. He keeps it short and simple. So when he told me he had a new fun thing to try this time, I was intrigued. He proudly presented me with a package of the new KY Yours and Mine lube, the commercials for which state when the two come together they create a grand experience, and tout increased sensation for the lady.

What they fail to mention is what SORT of increased sensation. Which was basically, just the same as if I had crammed a whole jar of mentholatum up my hoo-ha. It was definitely a sensation. But definitely not a good one. Another reviewer says it’s like sledding down a snowy mountain with your pants off, and I’d have to agree.  Fact is, that no matter what mental gymnastics I perform, I can’t make that feel sexy. The active ingredient is mint…what the hell? I couldn’t focus on a thing except the extreme cold tingles emanating from my crotch. And my giggling wasn’t so good for my m&m’s ego.

If you’ve ever put Icy Hot on your body and gotten it into a mucous membrane area (nose, lips, etc), and then tried to use water to wash it off, you understand what I got to experience NEXT when I hopped up and ran to the bathroom for a warm washcloth.  It was wrong. So. Wrong.

As for m&m’s experience, he said he didn’t feel anything special on his own, and he did get a bit of the icy cool tingles when we ‘came together’. I’ve read that other men had the effect of a tiny bit of desensitization and warmth.  While delaying some men’s orgasm is an admirable goal, it wasn’t what I wanted this time, and it would be nice if the packaging mentioned anything about it. Or about the minty-muff situation. But it didn’t.

So in all, my advice is NO. Just No.  If you want the sensation of a York Mint Patty between your legs, go for it. You could take the cheaper route and stick an Altoids up there. But don’t expect to be able to orgasm.

DIY Whippy Cane

As my monthly stats attest, the “DIY Sex” tag garnered some interest in my site, and I’m sure those who clicked the search engine link expected to find more than cut-out bondage dolls featuring Sunday Morning talk show hosts awaiting them. Which was the purpose I gave said tag. However, I am crafty in that other, less vicious sense (sort of), too; and I have been known to make a sex-and-or-domination-related accessory from time to time.My Whippy Cane

One particular little goodie I’ve made lately has me very anxious to find the right victim and circumstance to put it to use…a handmade whip-like cane. It was very simple and inexpensive to make, and easy to customize, and thus, I thought might make a great subject for my first DIY sex-toy how-to. One reason I particularly like it is that due to my ongoing issues with carpal tunnel/RSI, I am not currently comfortable using floggers or whips because of the heavy wrist action required to control and use them properly. I was able to make this cane with a very thin fiberglass rod, which behaves very much like a stiff whip, and gives me much greater control with much less movement of my wrist. I made my handle particularly long and thick, so that I needed less ‘flick’ to acheive my desired result at the end of the toy…I can use the length of the stiff handle to do the same job my wrist would do. I also made the fiberglass part a bit longer than many canes I see, which gave it a lot more length to flex and therefore be more whip-like than cane-like. And, since I made it myself, it didn’t end up covered in boring black leather- which, while beautiful and inspiring of many things, isn’t unique or feminine or pretty. I like feminine and pretty. So, mine is covered in buttery pink suede, with black caps and pink glass beadwork. And I’m working on a beaded tasseled end, which, I’ve discovered from the long beaded tassels on two of my favorite robes, can provide quite a nice biting sting when used as a mini flogger, too.

So, to start this project you will need the following items:

Step 1

Find the center of the handle.

Choose the end you plan to insert the fiberglass rod and measure the end of it.
Take this measurement and divide it by two (in half), then draw a line across the end of the handle at this measurement, dividing the circle in half.
Turn the handle 1/4 turn and do this again, intersecting your first line, making an ‘X’. The intersecting point is the center.

Step 2

Prepare your fiberglass rod.
whippiness factorHow ‘whippy’ your DIY cane will be depends on the thickness of the fiberglass rod you find. As you can see, the one I found was very flexible, giving it lots of play as it moves.

Mine was entirely too long, about 4 feet. I cut it down to 2 feet 4 inches, using a wire cutter. A fine toothed dovetail saw would also work.
This left a nasty end, so I used an artificial nail file to sand the end down. Sandpaper would also work, use a fine grain. This took some care, I found upward strokes, toward the center of the cane worked best. Downward strokes tended to splinter the fiberglass.
I then covered the tip by dipping it in very thick clear nail polish, letting it dry, and repeating the process until I had a nice smoothly rounded end. This took about ten coats. Polyurethane might work better but this required such a small amount, I used what was on hand.

rounded tip after coating

Finally, I sanded a one inch length of the end that was to be glued into the handle. This is because the fiberglass is smooth, and I wanted to be sure the glue bonded to the surface well.

Step 3

Drill your hole. (hehe)
Using your drill and drill bit, and maybe a cooperative slave to hold the handle, drill a hole at least one inch deep at the center point; making sure to keep your drill straight- i.e. in line with the handle. A crooked hole will result in a crooked cane. Blow away any sawdust before gluing.

Step 4

Attatch the rod.
Cover the sanded end of the rod with heavy duty all purpose glue, and put a good sized drop on top of the hole that will accept it.
Fit them together.
If you’ve drilled the hole too wide, wrap your fiberglass rod in layers of paper (using glue), allowing each layer to dry before trying the fit again.
Once fit together tightly, lay the whole thing flat, prop something under the rod to keep it stationary, and let it dry at least 12 hours before testing it out.

Step 5

Covering the handle. This was the most difficult part. I suppose you could also do it before putting the cane in, I just didn’t want to get glue on the outside of the suede- which you can see I was not successful at anyway.careful not to press glue through the fabric

Or, paint your handle…it’s up to you. I like a good covering for grip and comfort, so that’s how I proceeded.

You will want to be working on a flat surface. I will write the directions as if you are using a solid piece; and you can read how I did it with multiple pieces of covering below.
Draw a straight line down the length of your handle with a pencil. You will use this to keep your fabric/leather/suede lined up as you place it on the dowel, allowing you to keep a straight seam.
Lay your covering fabric flat, ‘pretty’ side down (this will be the outside part that you see).
Use a paintbrush to spread a thin coat of fabric glue the full length of your fabric- as long as the handle, about 3/4 the width needed to cover the handle. For thin fabrics (which I don’t suggest), be careful how much glue- it will bleed through…even suede… :|
Using the pencil line (facing down, towards the fabric) as a guide, lay the dowel on the edge of the fabric. Do take time to make adjustments here, as they will not be easy once the fabric is wrapped.
Pressing down, but not so hard as to press glue through the fabric, slowly roll the dowel forward; grasping the edges of the fabric with your thumbs/fingers as you roll the fabric around the dowel. Move slowly and make sure the ends stay straight. When you reach the ’seam’, you will have an overlap and an unglued area.
Leave this for now, and wrap rubber bands or tie twist ties around the handle at one to two inch intervals- not too tightly, but tight enough to keep it in place.
Allow the glue to fully dry- at least 24 hours.finished seam
Once dry, trim the excess fabric carefully- it’s better to leave more than you need and trim once it’s glued than to cut off too much. Leaving the overlap allows you to gauge a tight seam allowance, and allowing the glue to dry first is done in case the fabric stretches during the wrapping, and then shrinks back to size as it dries, leaving you with an unsightly gap.
Place a thin bead of glue along the remaining uncovered wood, and press your trimmed fabric into place. Roll the dowel between your hands and a table to press out any excess glue, wipe off with a damp towel, and replace your rubber bands.

How I did the above process with multiple pieces of covering: I wanted a soft covering, not woven, so I chose a solid piece of suede at a local craft store; the largest I could find was 10 inches long and about 6 inches wide. It was not quite long enough to cover my whole handle, so I also chose a roll of 1/2 inch black suede ribbon to use on the ends. Prior to gluing or cutting anything, I lined up all the pieces on a table as they were to be wrapped around the handle and double checked that the length of what I had would cover the handle…the 10 inches of pink suede untrimmed with 2 roughly 6 inch lengths of black suede ribbon at each end. Always double check! At this point decided that if I was going to take the effort to make a custom cane, I might as well make it unique and my own. So I got out my box of beads (trust me, most every woman has one) and found some tiny glass beads the same color of pink as the suede, and removed one length of black ribbon from the top of my layout. I strung 2 eight inch lengths of nylon ‘invisible wire’ with beads to be wrapped and glued in the spaces left by the removed 1/2 inch of black suede. I began at the bottom, with the smallest peices- the 1/2 inch suede ribbon. I didn’t trim the length first, leaving the covering about twice as long as I’d need, to allow for a tight seam. Using the technique described above, I wrapped a black ribbon, then 1/4 inch length of strung beads, another black ribbon, then the pink suede, another 1/4 length of strung beads, and a final 1/2 inch piece of suede ribbon.

Step 6

Finishing touches.
I painted the exposed ends black rather than try and trim a perfectly round piece of black suede. Okay, I didn’t paint them, I used a black Sharpie.
Then I screwed a small cup hook into the end for hanging it while stored.
I am currently working on a long beaded tassel to add to the end as an additional sensation tool. I’ll post photos of that when I’m done.

My pillows and cut-out bondage dolls love and fear this playtoy.

We’ll see how popular it is with human flesh fairly soon….

Left Hanging

You thought you had me pegged. Sweet, a pushover, forgiving and trusting to the Nth degree. I wanted it that way. Did you not know?

That we do things my way? That while I was genuine, and meant every word I said, I also knew just what you were up to. That I had every intent of putting you in your place as just a piece of property, worthless, and useless without me; but that I was intent on knowing who you think you are first? That we were going to move at my pace, slow. That you had to work to make up for acting like an insolent twelve year old. That I am not going to just hand you what you want because you’re pretty, and well hung with a successful career; but instead give you enough rope to hang yourself, first? No, you didn’t know. You thought you had me pegged. And you took every inch of rope I gave you. Now you’ll never know. But this is a small taste.

Imagine we meet for dinner at a trendy place to see and be seen in; and I meet you at the bar. Of course I’m there before you, sipping my wine, drawing slowly on my cigarette, surveying. Swaggering ever so slightly, wearing your cockiness like an accessory as you stride in, unaware of my gaze- averted before you round the corner to the bar. I am going to really enjoy this.

As you sidle up to the bar, our eyes meet, and yours dance with confidence. Good, just how I want it. I smile coyly and duck my chin, tilt my head just a bit, looking up at you through doe eyes to show you how flattered I am that you even showed up. I mean, I’m just so nice and forgiving and after all you’ve stood me up, lied, played every predictable game…but I’m still here. Surely you have me where you want me. You order my drink and I bat my eyelashes over small talk, steering clear of any talk of play. Making sure you know how smitten I am. And I am. I see in front of me a beautiful body. A fast mind. And a selfish, self centered man. Over salad you begin to drop a bit of that wall you’ve kept up; and begin to show the cracks in your veneer. You’re sure of yourself, and of the mental image you’ve created of the poor me, desperate for attention woman in front of you. I make sure that I’m putty in your hands. I defer to you when you ask about desert, just for effect. By the time the waiter is crumbing the table for coffee, the sexual tension is palpable as is your apparent mental boredom. You’ve made clear that you think I’ll do anything to have you, and I’m counting on it. I know you don’t think I have any idea what I’m doing; that because I don’t call you ‘worm’ and I’ve put up with your games I’m just playing at being dominant. But I know you won’t lose a chance for at least some hot sex. And I allow you to spin your little line to suavely ask me back to your place.

I follow you to your apartment and to your door. A little fumbling of keys and we’re in, I walk past you as you shut the door and turn face to face with me. We both simply look into each other’s eyes for a moment, then tilt our heads and slowly lean into each other until our lips meet and suddenly we are mingled in a hungry, deep and passionate kiss. Hands flying over each others bodies, the build up of the past two months surging as clothing flies and you pick me up as I wrap my legs around your waist, and take me to your bedroom. In a blur we are naked; a tangle of limbs and lust, rolling and turning. Dominance and submission is forgotten as we melt in a puddle of our own juices and taste and take each other like animals.

An hour or so later I am riding atop you, facing your feet. I take the opportunity to strap on the ankle cuffs you left out, leaving them loosely tied together and to the bed frame so as not to disturb your footing, but to be useful later; all the while bouncing up and down on your hard shaft, caressing, scratching and kissing your legs and thighs so you don’t quite notice. I feel you begin to buck in that unmistakable animalistic staccato rhythm; feel your hips thrusting deeper. I push my knees farther apart, arching my back as your cock begins to swell and throb, and you begin to moan uncontrollably as I reach between your legs and gently squeeze your balls. (Not too hard. I ‘m not ready for that yet.) I grind hard when I feel you explode inside of me, cum surging out of you as I squeeze tighter, with my hands and my pussy. I sit straight up and begin to shudder in orgasm as you continue to throb, rolling my hips with the contractions, rubbing my clit as I climax and my pussy continues to squeeze rhythmically. I roll over to kiss you and collapse on your chest, your cock still inside me, both of us shuddering. We lay there, catching our breath together in unison until I feel you draw a deep, languid, satisfied breath. Now, I’m ready.

I rise to all fours in one motion over you to meet your eyes nose to nose. Your gaze belies a total lack of understanding of what is about to happen. Perfect. Squeezing my muscles tight so as not to loose a drop of seed as I move, using your shoulders as leverage, I pull myself upwards, planting my sticky wet pussy right on your unsuspecting lips as I pin your upper arms with my knees. Grabbing your hair with my left hand, spreading my lips with my right, I pull your face to me as I grind it into the pillow.

“Don’t miss a drop”

I hiss in a hoarse whisper as you begin to moan in pleasure and lap at me; but only for a few moments, as you begin to run out of air. I watch your eyes widen with concern as I cover your face and press harder into the bed, an evil grin creeping over my face. But you continue to lick furiously, tongue fucking, sure that I will give in quickly as I thrust. I grab your hair with both hands now and bear my full weight on your face, feeling your arms involuntarily pushing against my knees. I loosen my grip on your head just enough to adjust and allow you a millimeter of breathing space, your gasp is audible; and I cut it short, jerking you quickly back into place.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

I tease as you begin to buck and twist beneath me, trying to turn your head side to side to gain any access to air. Your face is turning red with lack of oxygen, and by now you’ve discovered your ankles are bound in place, albeit loosely, enough to hamper your ability to gain enough footing to lift your body off of the bed.

“Is it good cum, slut?”

I ask, you nod furiously beneath my body, which I take full advantage of as you begin to look really desperate. My clit is swollen and each flicker of your tongue sends shock waves through me as I begin to feel my whole pelvis tingle and fill with my juices.

“Suck out every last drop and you can breathe”

I demand as I lean in, pinning your head in place and grabbing your hands in mine. I hear you gulping, slurping, as you strain against me and I rock back and forth on your face until I explode into orgasm; squirting copious amounts of liquid that streams down your cheeks and throat as you struggle to swallow it all.  Satisfied, I lift myself, creamy seed and saliva stringing between us as you arch your back drawing in a long gurgling breath. I let you draw in deeply for a moment but not a full breath, then I sit back on your chest and watch you draw in air in short, quick breaths, hampered by my weight on your lungs, eyes closed, still pinned in place by my knees.

“Are you ready for a full breath?”, I ask, reaching back and caressing your limp dick as you nod.

“I’m going to get off of you now, and you are going to roll over like a good slut. Are we clear?”

You hesitate for a moment and I grasp the base of your balls tightly, squeezing them hard; rising above your face at the same time.

“Yes Mistress” you manage, and I lift myself from you and off the bed, watching you wriggle onto your belly and lay there spent, gasping as I gather some items from my bag.

“Are you ready for that ass fucking you’ve been begging for?” I ask, as you turn to look at me; expecting a strap on, finding me holding a blindfold and wrist shackles.

“yeeesss Mistress” you moan, grinning. Like a slut, you spread your legs best as you can and lift your ass into the air, an expectant smile on your face as I strap the blindfold on.

“Give me your hands” I ask dulcetly, swinging my leg over you and straddling your thighs.

You bring them behind you lazily, and I strap the first gauntlet on, then the second, then clip them together in a four way hogtie clip. Knowing you expect a strap on, I take the large ass plug I’ve brought and lube it up a little before holding it to my pelvis and teasing the tip over your smooth ass cheeks. Moaning, you arch your back and push your knees apart, and I wrap my free hand around your hip, pulling you closer as I bring my knees between yours, ‘accidentally’ grazing your balls and leaning over your back.

“Wider bitch” I whisper into your ear as I lick and bite your earlobe, forcing your legs further apart with my knees and feeling your hips tilt in anticipation.

I raise back up to my knees and take the five inch plug in hand like a strap on, sliding it up and down your eager crack, tracing your sweet spot and perineum, watching as your breath increases and you draw your knees closer to you so you can lift your ass higher, resting on your face. I part your ass cheeks with my free hand and swirl the tip of the plug over your puckered hole, pressing gently as you moan into the pillow in pleasure. I reach down and caress your balls and feel your cock hardening as I tease you with the first half inch of my tool, lulling you into anticipation.

“Mmmm, finally” I hear you say, your voice muffled by the wight of your own body pressing it into the bed.

I grab the fourway between your wrists like a handle and pull hard, forcing the plug into you up to its widest point. No warm up for that.

“What’s that?” I demand as your moan transforms from lazy pleasure into shocked pain.
“aaaAAAaauugghh”… I feel your sphincter react violently against the intrusion and thrust it just a touch deeper, bringing your half-moan-yell to a gasping scream before easing it back a few inches.

“That’s what I thought, now I said WIDER, bitch!” I lean down to lift the blindfold and look into your eyes, now wide and alarmed as I use my powerful thighs to press yours even farther apart.

“You’d have gotten a nice strap on fuck if you hadn’t played all those games” I tell you, pushing the plug back in, not as far; as you avert your eyes. “But now all you get is a pacifier. Because you’ve done nothing but act like a spoiled child”  I replace the blindfold and lift back up, and plunge the whole length of the thick plug inside of you, pulling back on your wrist shackles for leverage as you buck uncontrollably, unable to escape or force it out, moaning loudly.

“Go ahead and struggle, you know it will only make it worse” I tell you, jerking on the retrieval cord and smirking as you settle into place, clearly in pain.

Better”, I assure you; releasing your wrists and maintaining the tension of the plug against your ass while reaching down to caress your balls.

Watching you try to slow your breathing and adjust to the three inch thick plug deep inside of you, I stroke your semi-soft cock briefly before slipping four connected cock rings over the head and firmly down to the base, forcing your balls through the large bottom ring one by one. As I adjust the gates of hell contraption on your cock I can see you twisting and struggling to see if you can glimpse what I am doing, as your blindfold has slipped. No matter now, as I clip the top ring, now around the head of your cock, to the base of the ass plug (conveniently it has a small hoop to which the retrieval cord is also attached) with a short chain, drawing it slightly back. Then I move myself off of the bed, untying the rope connecting your ankle shackles to the bed frame and drawing it tight, bringing them together with one hand and placing the other firmly on the small of your back, forcing your hips to the bed and securing them there with my knee. Hair awry, blindfold half on, red cord hanging from your slut hole, cum smeared from ear to ear and eyes wide, you look perfectly ridiculous; helpless with your wrists bound, your cock bent downward between your thighs, ankles bound tightly and lifted off the bed by the rope loop.

I jerk them up to meet with your wrists, neatly snapping them into the fourway at the d-rings; leaving the rope in place. I step back to admire my handiwork for a second, then kneel on the bed next to you and take the rope still looped through the d-rings on your ankle cuffs and loop it under your wrists. I take an elbow with each hand, pulling them together until you arch your back to ease the tension and I can hold them in place with one arm; leaning over to hold you- you aren’t struggling much- I grasp the rope with my free hand and pull the loop up to the elbows, keeping it tight. I release your arms, now using both hands to quickly wrap the rope several times around your forearms, rendering you completely hogtied, unable to move save your head. NOW I can admire my handiwork; and I remove the blindfold and step back to look at you laying arched and trussed up on your own bed as you stammer.

“I..I…uh…..I didn’t..uh”

“you didn’t expect this? I know. Now, where’s that gag you mentioned having?”

You eye the closet. “On the shelf in there.” Your voice wavers.

I light a cigarette and wander into the bathroom to clean up a bit; I hear you rustling in the sheets and open a few drawers, rummage around loudly a bit, just to spook you. I come back out and head to the closet, predictably piled with clothes and shoes; and grab the bit gag off of the shelf just inside the door. I walk back over to the bed, flicking my ashes on your back and sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning on my elbow against your ribs as I finish my smoke. Watching you watch me, smoking, ashing on you. I know you are wondering where I’ll put that out; but I don’t plan to mark you with a burn. Today. But you don’t know that, and I trace the hot tip of the burning cigarette across your back, down the inside of your thigh, and watch you draw in your breath and brace for the coming sizzle of burning skin. I singe a few leg hairs and just as you tightly close your eyes and tense up in anticipation, I get up from the bed and put the smoke out in the ashtray on the bed, smiling at you and grabbing the bit. I lean down and brush your hair back, slipping a hand under your jaw to help you lift up to accept the gag; pushing it unnecessarily hard into your already open mouth at the last moment and fastening it tightly from behind. I replace the blindfold and straighten and smooth the sheets.

“I’m going to take a shower. Do not move, nod if you understand”

You nod vigorously; and I lay a short length of rope horizontally across your hogtie, making sure it lay in a smooth line from one side of the bed to the other.

“It will be disturbed if you move; you know I don’t trust you”. I pat your ass and head off to take a long, hot shower, leaving the door open. Finishing, I leave the water on so you won’t hear as I dry myself and brush my hair into a quick bun. Moving stealthily I retrieve the handmade fiberglass cane and over the door solid steel belt hanger/hook I brought from my bag in the living room and return to the bedroom to find you laying perfectly still, facing the opposite direction, clearly breathing with focus as relaxed as can be expected. Standing beside the bed, I place the hook on the floor slowly, rise and position myself carefully just level with your hips. I raise the cane above my head and bring it down whipping through the air, landing on the fleshy exposed outer part of your ass cheek with a smart thwap; and you scream through the bit in surprise as you turn to try and face me despite the blindfold. I kneel on the bed, giving the welt a few seconds to rise before applying the same treatment to your other cheek; leaving a nice pair of reddening stripes in the hollows where hip turns into ass, and pulling the loose rope aside.

“Ooooaaaaaghghoooo” You are half moaning, half yelling; as I force your knees apart and begin to lightly tap the insides of your thighs, alternating quickly between legs with light, almost caressing taps. You begin to visually ease and I grab the cord connected to the ass plug and now your cock and yank, hard; pulling it back so it stretches your slutty hole, then letting go before your muscles can force it out. Your cock is beginning to harden and my contraption is doing it’s job; as you stiffen the chain is pulled taught.. and the harder you get, the harder it pulls against your ass plug, pulling the cock into an awkward downward curve as the plug is pulled on. Nice, I’d hoped that would work. I return to the cane, applying two lighting quick and white hot stripes to your upper back in an X, not quite successfully avoid marking your upper arms. It is a pleasure to watch you arch your back in agony as I return to short, quick slaps at your exposed cock and balls with the tip, leaving small red raised welts.

“Not the spankings you wanted, huh, slut?” I taunt, caressing your balls and the base of your cock with my other hand, watching as it throbs involuntarily and you wince and moan on agony as it begins to pinch against the steel rings and force your asshole open wider as it strains against the chain connected to it’s plug.

I get up from the bed and grab a pillow, stopping to survey the damage and place one more swift blow on each of your outer thighs; placing the cane on the bedside table and bending down to grab the hook as you writhe from the sting. I head over to the open closet door and place the hook over the top of the door, closing it firmly and placing the pillow on the floor in front of it. I stride back to you, taking the top sheet from the foot of the bed and folding it in half.

“Remember I asked how much you weighed?” I ask, placing the halved sheet carefully on the floor beside the bed.

You just lay there.

“Afraid? Good.” I smirk, and grasp the leather part of the four way tie like a handle, sliding you to the edge of the bed.

“You’re going on the floor, knees first. You can help, or not; it will only be easier on you if you do” I tell you as I grab the crooks of your knees and begin to swing your legs off of the bed. You nod, and I lower your knees to the floor, leaving your chest leaning against the bed like a lean-to.

“Ok, ready?”; you nod again and I bend my knees and wrap my hands around your bound forearms, leaning back to lift you from the bed and swing you around enough to lower you to the sheet. Once you are prone on the floor I grab the edge of the sheet and drag you over to the closet; returning to the bed for the length of rope that had been across your back. I return to you, adjusting the sheet so that you are parallel with and about six inches from the door, knees centered in the middle of the door frame below the hook; then focus on the rope work. Doubling the rope, I make a slip knot over the hogtie, and toss the rest of the rope over the hook, pulling it down and holding it taut under my knee. Kneeling behind you I place the pillow behind your knees and hold it in place with mine, both to block you from sliding and to cushion them; and begin to lift you using your shoulders and the tension of the rope. It is a slight struggle, but I’ve planned this, and slip a knee under your body as soon as there is space, pulling the rope and pushing up on your chest until you are upright; teetering on your knees, feet and hands bound tightly behind your ass. I steady you and ‘walk’ you backwards, so your back is parallel now with the door, leaning you against it as I shove the pillow under your knees before moving my attention behind you. Loosening the slipknot, I move it from the hogtie up to your elbows, then tighten it again, pulling the loop out and tying it off so it doesn’t cut off your circulation. I then stand, pull the slack rope tightly over the hook and looping it once, wrapping the end around my hand tightly as I slowly tilt you forward so you are tipped out over the floor, held back only by the rope. I pull all my weight on the rope, making sure it will hold your weight where I want you; then wrap it around the doorknob several times and tie it off securely. I lift the blindfold and my right arm at the same time, bringing it down as hard as I can to apply a vicious open palmed slap across your face. Watching you shake it off I step back, smiling.

“You left me hanging. Not once, or twice. Even after I asked you not to. You had me plan a trip here just to see you and backed out when it was too late for me to cancel my reservations. You abandoned deep conversations just to be cruel. You thought you had me where you wanted me, and you left me hanging every chance you got. And now you are learning your lesson. I don’t like to be left hanging. I think you should know what it feels like.”

Your eyes followed me as I found my panties and bra, slipping them on as we watched each other. I wandered around the apartment to retrieve my clothes, dressed, put on my shoes, and lit another smoke; strolling back over to you, hanging there. I pulled the blindfold back in place, checked the pillow and bindings, then knelt and began to lick the head of your cock slowly, stroking the underside with my fingers and sucking a few inches into my mouth to feel it swell as you moaned. Rising abruptly, I grabbed my purse, cane and keys, and strode out of the room, my shoes clicking on the floor as I heard your moan turn to yells of protest through the gag. I smiled to myself as I reached the front door, jingling my keys loudly as I opened it and slamming it shut.

Of course I wasn’t going to leave you there. I stood on the porch, finishing my smoke and wishing I’d turned on your webcam…or there was a way to watch you through the second story window. I waited about ten minutes and put the butt out and slowly turned the doorknob, pushing the door open slowly; slipping my shoes off as I crept back inside. I padded back into your bedroom and stood in the doorway, watching you. Sweat dripping from your brow and neck, and your cock was now limp. You’d obviously struggled, the pillow gone from under your knees, the rope loosened such that you were hanging about two feet from the floor, leaning askew to the left. But now you were still, hanging slackly against the rope, your head drooping; resting or having given up I could not tell. I crept up to you and leaned down, lifting your chin with my hand as I kissed your forehead and your head jerked back in surprise. I removed the blindfold and you met my eyes sheepishly as your tear streaked face was exposed. Clearly you’d been considering the possibility that I really had left you there, to be found like that.

“Ready to come down?”

I was already behind you as you nodded, untying the rope and lowering you to the sheet on your belly and slipping the rope from your arms; unbinding your forearms, unclipping the hogtie and allowing you to stretch your legs.

I sat beside you, still bound at the wrists and ankles, and gagged, caressing your neck with feather light fingertips, tracing the contours of your back and sides; flattening my palms over your ass cheeks before lightly dragging my nails across them on the way back up to run my hands through your hair, raising goose bumps across your skin. I smooth the hair across your forehead and tilt my head to look you in the eyes, laying there.

“Did you like being left hanging?”

You looked away and shook your head, and I leaned over and kissed your cheek before untying your ankles and spreading your legs. Unhooking the cock rings from the ass plug, I warn you:

“Bear down”; and slowly pull the plug from your ass, red and dilated. I massage your cheeks a little, squeezing them, and kissing each of the twin stripes outlining its roundest part. I unclip the wrist shackles, and stand.

“You can manage the rest yourself, I’m sure.” I say as I rise and head towards the door, turning to see you roll over in surprise, struggling to your feet. But I’d reached the front door by that time, and you’d forgotten the gag as you stumbled to the door to protest my departure.

Besides, I wanted you to have plenty of time to compose your apology.

Cats in Panties

Meet Don Gato, my most devoted servant. He lets me do pretty much anything I want to him, and actually loves spanking and sensory deprivation (having his face covered up tightly)- both make him purr with great fervor!

He sat patiently as my daughter and I put panties on him recently, out of boredom. I couldn’t resist sharing it with my friends who would understand the more kinky hilarity of the photo. Enjoy!

Don Gato in red panties

Faux Me

Chronology of faux-ness

In order to fully understand the following post and really, the last several as well as the recent comment action here, a little chronology is important. Links are provided to the various places, but the important bits are also pasted here:

Me: bored, frustrated by a sub, cruising the internet while waiting to pick up a very late kid on Saturday night. No one online after reading my daily requirements, so I set about a project I’d had in mind since reading earlier about Bitchy making her own sex partners in frustration.

Then I linked it to Bitchy’s post for the day, with a comment dedicating my first cut-out to Bitchy (since it was her idea). And headed off to Elizabeth’s blog, which is always good for a grin when you’re bored, and I knew had a post about Jeremy Piven- and photos, which I needed for my next doll, which was meant for myself. Here’s where the real trouble started. I found the “Hot or Not – the soy latte version” post. And I made this comment:

Well, I know I’m late in chiming in. But I just had to add that while I’m not generally into feminization (but not at all against it); I do think that Charlie Rose would be totally hot in nothing but a pair of fishnet stockings and court heels, something tells me he has hot legs. While interviewing Bob Scheiffer in full body lacing (cause I really only wanna see his head). While I reigned court in the middle with a crop in on hand and whip in the other. *NOW* we are having FUN.
March 24, 2007 10:21 PM

Of course, Elizabeth had to come back here and egg me on…

“… after that, can you do Bob Scheiffer in full body lacing? (I about peed myself when I read your comment a few minutes ago.)

So of course, I had to.

And since the kid didn’t get home until 3 am, I did. Linking the dolls to all the appropriate places. Which was hilarious and fun, and yes, gained me some traffic.

So then Tom comes over and posts this:

Well, this should be totally interesting now. The Fauxdomme blogroll is suddenly taking off, which should scare the hell out of the rest of the subs.

To which I respond:

Uh. Hmm. I wouldn\’t really consider myself a Fauxdomme, or Faux anything, really. Why exactly do you? No offense or anything; just think I might rather choose that label on my own, or not at all.

And then I started a post to explain why I wanted a caveat with that title- but had been up until past 3 am the night before and was too lazy to do in full. To which Tom commented:

*ahem*

Er… you do know that it’s like, you know, a compliment thingie, right?

Indeed, I do.

So here we are. Now I have to get all serious and explain stuff. And without my sock puppets.

I guess mainly, I find it disturbing to be so quickly categorized into a nice neato little slot by the same group of people who convinced me to come out of hiding by talking about how we should stop telling everyone else how to do their own kink, and sharing their own differences openly.

It took me a long, LONG time to feel comfortable sharing myself in the BDSM communty; despite the fact that I’ve been a popular adult ‘net personality on and off for a period coming close to a decade. A big reason certainly was the fact that I didn’t always fit the mold, didn’t always find things as seemingly black/white, this/that, one/the other as those speaking within the community did; and found that those into BDSM were particularly prone to needing to categorize and put people in their places.

Uh, duh…I know. A or B, I get it.

My (admittedly curt) point in my comment to Tom was …. suddenly I’m Fauxdomme because I made some silly cut-out dolls and commented on a FauxDomme’s blog? Huh? I started my blog commenting and entry into this particular gaggle of people by posting on Alexandra’s and then Richard’s blogs; and following the logic that enjoying a Saturday night with Bitchy and Elizabeth makes me a Fauxdomme, this would also put me into the Transgendered and polyfetishists categories. Are you following me?

I don’t see, or recall posting, any real detail here about my thoughts, beliefs, and practices in D/s, Femdom, dommery, etcetera. Tom and I don’t know each other, in fact I’ve only been to his blog once or twice. I’ve posted a little over at Fetishlore that might have shed some light on where I stand in the BDSM spectrum, but …. not really.

And yes – the Fauxdomme concept, article, and ladies who gladly don the title are fabulous. I love it, and the various faux-players, who each regularly cause me to spout various liquids from my nose as I laugh hysterically when reading their tomes. And I espouse many of the same views. But I also disagree sometimes. I often practice many of the things the people in Tom’s ‘Beyond the Edge’ blogroll do, and things that are just my own kinks, not just ‘fauxdom’, and so on…

Probably more related to my feeling icky about being sorted out so quickly,is that this is the first time I’ve chosen to adopt an online persona that is completely un-commercial, not business, but personal, and it’s unfamiliar ground to me to not have that veil of commercialism to separate myself from what people have to say and think about me. In my little about blurb I tell you all that I come to everything through the back door, BDSM included. And I have yet to put all of that into writing, but suffice to say accepting and enjoying my dominant side and exploring BDSM has been a long time coming that I’ve consciously put off because of the respect for and depth of emotions I have about it. I’ve been playing and peeking in for many years now; but only recently chose to throw that door wide open in my personal life, and to share that journey with the online BDSM world. And I feel my place and identity as a dominant woman is mine to define. I appreciate and respect that others in the community have just as much right to define me for themselves. I’ve been in and out of enough online (adult) communities to know that how I conduct my self, not how I define myself, is how I will appear to others. I know that Tom’s comment, as well as those from others I’ve received so early in my blog’s lifespan and the trust placed in me by other ‘big names’ in the blogosphere so early on, all mean that I am on the right track.

And I’m relatively sure I know how Tom views ‘Fauxdom’- it’s a tongue in cheek of saying ‘Phew! A real person in that latex corset whipping her initials into my ass!’. That is such a humbling honor(our for all the rest of the world), particularly because I’ve really only been ‘on the scene’ publicly for a little over a month; and he and I have never conversed, at all. So in considering who Tom is, and what Fauxdom appears to mean to Tom, I do take it as he meant- a ‘compliment thingie’. But then, Tom is looking at the distinct possibility of a year and a half in a chastity device- and just how long is unknown to him; but he calls himself ‘on the edge of vanilla’… I just don’t know how many people are paying close enough attention to make the ironic connection there and follow it through to how Tom categorizes me.

Thing is, I also remember how things appeared when I didn’t know who all these people were (look at the various blogrolls on the sites linked in this post) or totally understand what they meant by ‘Fauxdom’, or ‘The One True Way’- and not following it, or why they didn’t all C/capitalize A/all the R/right L/letters Like I’d Seen O/others D/do. When I was still wandering Some Sites and thinking..”Really? Do I HAVE to? THAT is dominance? Huh.”.

And, having come here (the online part) via the commercial route, I also know that as many, if not more people will end up finding my blog through random searches, personal ads, forum posts, and so on than those who come here through the blogrolls of these awesome people who think the way I do. And I’d like those people to stick around too. I’m all inclusive like that. I fear that seeing ‘faux’ attatched to my name might mislead those who haven’t unlearned all the real faux-lessons of kink yet, those with deep and unmet needs to be under the heel of a truly dominant woman, those like me who are afraid to jump into the fray for fear of being sorted, stamped, and placed neatly in a box that doesn’t fit them; those who just don’t get it yet.

I’m also more than a little grossed out by the fact that even when making the point that we are all welcome to be ourselves here, those of us that fall into the more balanced point of view feel we have to define ourselves using words like ‘faux’ because the labeling has become so ridiculous and sophomoric. I happen to love- no adore- irony and satire. But I don’t always like to use it outside of a personal context because otherwise it’s easily misunderstood. Calling someone who hasn’t done so themselves a FauxDomme- it’s sort of like that really great private joke that – when shared in the wrong context – leaves those not privy to the whole event misunderstanding the real meaning. When presenting myself to a general public, I like to use general terms, understood from any perspective without back story. When my friends choose to use such a witty and sardonic way to say the same thing, I love it- but I like to keep it personal. So I’ve decided not to be one bit upset about being labeled a FauxDomme; I really never was.

I did want to point out a few things though, now that I’ve made it clear I don’t mind the title.

Bitchy and I are the only ladies put in this category that I’ve seen complain about the ‘faux’ part (See the comments here at Elizabeth’s article “Funny is the New Stern”. And, Bitchy and I are also the only single (and looking) ladies in Tom’s list of Fauxdommes. Coincidence? I think not.

Here’s why.

Tom, Elizabeth, Susan, and even Richard and Alexandra (although not in that list), all have the luxury of knowing that no matter what they say here in the blogosphere, that it won’t kill an opportunity in their love lives. They have found their match and are in long term stable relationships, mostly married. If something said online is misunderstood by their lover (slave, husband, Mistress, wife) they can explain it in person; and if the public misunderstands, it might bother them but it won’t affect them too much.

But I (and I won’t speak for Bitchy, but it appears she too) am here not just to share my journey -and silliness- but to also find a partner, or three. I don’t know how long it’s been since any of you had to try and DO the singles thing, much less the kinky singles thing, but I have a secret. Come closer. Closer still…

IT SUCKS ASS and IT’S FUCKING HARD.

The tiniest thing can undo an online beginning, or cause someone who was interested to change their mind. Particularly when dealing with deeply driven needs and desires. Singles are a fickle bunch. We have a list and it will be checked off, damnit!

Fauxdom is never on that list. It’s something you come to recognize after you get past those porn inspired things some people like to call fantasies. It creeps in and you look up and see that ‘lifestyle’ is just what you make of it. That perhaps your Domme is more dominant in her flip flops and jeans than stillettos, whispering instead of yelling. Until she surprises you, that is. And, I want someone to surprise.

Another point is this. Google the word fauxdom. Follow the links. The closest thing to a real explanation of Fauxdome that appears in the first ten results is a cut from Susan’s blog on another of Richard’s websites:

Susan says about FauxDom:

“It’s true I’m not naturally dominant and my knowledge of the lifestyle is quite limited. That’s why I developed Fauxdom. Now I can tease, tickle, torment, kiss, nibble and yes, even spank my lover to my heart’s content without being lectured to by anyone.”

Ok. Now, I’m concerned again. Maybe I should’ve googled before I started writing this. Because my knowledge of the lifestyle is NOT quite limited; only my verbal and public participation in the online community is. And, I like to do quite a bit more than just tease, tickle, torment, and -oooh- spank. Quite a bit more.

So you see my dilemma. I’m a faux fauxdomme. Un-Faux-Domme. FauxDumb. Faux Pas. Foi gras.

Wait, what?

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