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Hello, good dog.
If those words make you want to beg, you might be the one for Me.
Tactile Pleasure Domme looking for My next good, even great dog. Require a LOT of oral Service, and in return I give caresses and compliments, with an occasional orgasm for spice. Love petting a contented pup, and love Queening a great licker, 28/28.
**WARNING: contents are under copyright to the author.
My ideal person:
good dogs must do more than provide luscious blissful multiple and G-Spot orgasms to keep My interest.
I require an intelligent head and sweet heart as well as a great ass dancing on the end of My Strap-on, so you must be well-read, witty, with English as a first language, and well-mannered in private as well as out and about in public.
Single straight vanillas or straight submissives for LTR only, with a clean bill of health from your vet required.
What do I like? I'm impressed by well-written profiles, subtle portraits either in writing or pictures, that make Me smile.
I dislike negative ads Myself, but bad dogs sniff at My heels. Must be D&D-free. No catfishers, stoners, doms, masters, do-me bottoms, marrieds, chicks, bi's, TV's, crossdressers, or switches. Ever. So stop calling, already!
Deleted or left unread: chat / cam requests;
messages not from straight sub males are filtered, especially with bad dog names such as dom, bi-, horny, slut, b*tch, sissy, loser, trans, or switch;
if your profile pic is of your cock and/or panties;
if your entire profile sez, 'just looking', 'unsure about my role' or 'don't know what i'm looking for' or if you can't name your city. And if your username has '69' in it, be born in the year before 1970!
One more requirement: this would be a RELATIONSHIP!
hah, scared off the married, the distant, the on-lines, the sluts, the trolls, the catfishers, the bottoms, the one-night-standers and the players. I also need a local man who is literally available, so you have to be within regular commuting distance, and physically as well as emotionally available for vanilla dates plus mind-blowing sex.
Speaking of numbers, ages 30-58 [btw, all of My pups have been in their 20's and 30's, so younger is fine; I just haven't found a man over 40 to be comPATible . . . yet!].
I need a verbal man, so you have to be able to compose a thoughtful profile and msg. I also need a man who pays attention, so put the number '42 'in your first msg; bonus points if you know its literary significance.
So for you, you good dog, who has kept reading:
Are you eager, licking your chops, looking to be leashed?
There's a good dog.
I have been blessed to be able to lead a good life. I have a great job, and the ability to enjoy the good things in life and to share them with others. I have great friends and come from a happy family. I enjoy music, literature, the arts, movies, history, My Mind. I orgasm often. I am extremely well-travelled, and well-read. I love to be Amused. I am safe and sane, happy and well-adjusted. I adore being a strong BBWoman; all the better to Queen you, my dear!, but if you don't want your buddies to see you out at a vanilla movie or hockey game or charity event with a fat chick with fantastic breasts and a great personality: next!
I have almost everything I could wish for.
The only thing missing from My life is a straight vanilla or sub man to share it with.
I am a wonderful and interesting person, independent of fetish or kink. I am strong, ethical, and have a good heart. I am admirable and respectable. I have a strong sense of self. I am My Own Inner Mistress. I look forward to having My next submissive male in My Life to ensure My needs, whims and Person are taken care of.
I have been a Domina ever since I was an adolescent, and was in My teens when I first Took a man. For as long as I can remember, I have been deeply attracted to men who are intelligent, graceful, kind, well-read, socially adept and amusing. In short, I *LOVE* good men.
I have no patience for people with asperger's traits: I am only attracted to men who can pick up on the subtler cues of a caught breath, a widening pupil, a curving lip, and who are good to others.
When I observe good men being good, I have an overwhelming urge to be pampered, pleased, Served and obeyed, and to walk up behind them, nip their nape, strum their nipples, and over their groans whisper in their ear precisely how they will kneel before Me and feature in My next Climax.
There would be no 'power-exchange': it just is. I Am Who I Am.
I am well-versed in slave training, and have extensive experience. My interests include but are not limited to oral Servitude, bondage, and anal-, G-Spot-, erection- and nipple-training.
I understand the deep need and crave of the otherwise vanilla-appearing or career-alpha male who feels alive only when owned by and obeying the requirements of a Dominant Woman, and am looking for My next would-be pup, to meet and have a real-world relationship with a man worthy to call Me his Owner and Master.
I understand the skin hunger of a sub to have the vanilla percolated from him, to be cleansed of the blonde bimbos he hoped would suffice, and to be touched, caressed, ridden, Taken.
I've always loved submarine sonar echolocation sounds in movies; I never knew why until I realised I am a subHuntress.
The pings are getting louder, louder, LOUDER, until the deafening silence when all you can hear is your own heartbeat as you wait, sweating and panting in the dark, for Me, and what I'm going to do to you.
Lie down. Roll over. Now, beg.
Good dog.
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'Grunt fuck'. It was used in a way to try to embarrass or demean a woman, but it only made me laugh.
The first time I grunt-fucked, coming in a most unladylike manner, was ass-fucking a man during a thunderstorm. He was prone, lying flat on his stomach, legs parted slightly and ass up completely to accommodate me and my strapon, au n`egre with me on all fours above him, my arms under his shoulders and linked behind his neck, his white back and dark hair shone in contrast with each lightning stroke. We were pumping pleasure, first in synch then in counterpoint as I whispered, commanded, complimented and nipped his nape and shoulders.
Suddenly, gone were the little gaspy breaths of pleasure: it was the perfect storm of sensations, heat, his conscious moves of his ass, inside and out, for my pleasure of him. My own hips were no longer under my conscious control: I thrust and retracted, rutting, and for the first time, I spoke in tongues, surprised but powerless to stop, a liquid unintelligible stream of syllables pouring forth appreciation as the sensations built, inciting and inflaming him to keep going. Then...
I came twice in quick yet long succession, groaning and grunting, effortlessly and endlessly pumping, free and flying in my pleasure of him and his pleasure in giving such pleasure with his long, lean, lithe, rhythmic body. And fortunately for me and mine, the first of many.
I have no recollection of dismounting, the only and messy bit I dislike about fucking a good man. I only remember collapsing down on my good man, breathing huge drafts of ozoned air, and his thanks and praise of my coming so hard in his ass, as I fell asleep on his back.
Ya don't see/hear chicks coming like *that* in porn! uhn...
Pity . . . |
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Had an absolutely fantastic first date: I always pay for the first date, and after dinner the good man acquiesced but had suggestions of vanilla things to do. A lovely kisser, who afterwards nestled perfectly by my breast.
Then a good night kiss -- then he called me by another name ;-)
Ouchies! |
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Happy Canada D'Eh to all lovely subbie Canuck men :-) |
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I'm not one for anti-heroes or rapscallions, but I do enjoy the Australian 'Rake' series about a slutty lawyer [hot scene with him rooting with Toni Colette, premier, in the back of a limo!].http://www.video.tonicollette.org/view/225/rake-series-02-episode-01-scene-01/
He said right-wing chicks are better in the sack because they take what they want, while left-wing chicks worry about orgasms like a prized poodle.
Not I! But then I thought, I only Take left or central men, who worry about giving me prize orgasms, and who prefer to be Taken. |
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By consensus: when Detroit scored the short-handed goal to tie Toronto: scenting defeat, we turned off the game, ordered Indian food and watched 'Thor'.
Now it's 4-2: can't bear to watch! |
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I'd once asked: if all your ex's were hung upside-down in Spiderman suits, with only their mouths uncovered: could you identify them by a single kiss?
And now, as the urgent drive of ovulation mellows into the oxytocin, and the caress of my new white angora sweater makes me arch in happy memory of big, strong, gentle, warm hands, I wonder: could I identify them if I gave them my breast to suckle?
Most of them became excellent, but I think of one in particular who was exquisite from the first night: subtle, rhythmic, crescendo as my nipple swelled beneath his tender ministrations, became warmer, firmer, until I craved more. I whispered, 'Mmm, harder', and he moaned around the nipple in his mouth, obeying instantly, the groans vibrating and adding pleasure, his rock-hard cock ratcheting even higher.
In mere moments, the perfect pressure and suck electrifying me, he felt the Divine Push as his smile was directed between my thighs, magnified on my slickened, hot flesh.
How I adore the sweetly greedy mouths of ex-smokers! |
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Wow, a SnowDay is TrollDay! The little wankers must be stuck in their mommas' basements.
Dudes, all you're doing is confirming my first impressions about you...and putting you in even sharper contrast to the good men who composed little jewels for International Poetry Day :-) |
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Now that steak, bj and pi day is over for another year, we can get back to our 364.25 gelati and pussylicking days! I almost didn't make it to midnight...
and the verification string is MoanLa! |
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I was asked today what was my favourite Valentine's Day. I was taken aback for a moment, then smiled and thought they were as individual as the good men who made them, according to their skills and means. Of course, they all featured chocolate and orgasms and kisses that went on for days, but here are my top three:
I was working hard in a fluorescently lit room, expounding to a senior group on something I'd discovered, and a worker brought me a single red rose from my good man: the spell a single flower can cast on me, and on a crowded room! I was the envy of all who surveyed [and I was right, too: sweet!].
Another was travelling with a lover for the first time, escaping from -30'C to a private resort in the Bahamas called Valentine's, and waking up in orgasm with hibiscus blossoms in my hair and a good man's smile between my thighs.
Or another frigidly cold Valentine's and a busy day, when my smiling staff brought me a delivery of a public orchid and a private haiku...ohhh, what I did to that man that night :-)
So to all you good subbie men, may you soon have someone to celebrate with, and to my wonderful subbie men, Je t'adore, and to my next good man, put on your speedskates!
XO
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To get a CollarChat epithet other than 'evil', I promised poetry; I received, so I gave:
Three haikus for Valentine's Day:
Tease and denial:
But be good, and I'll put the
'Fill' in fulFILLment
****************
Love struck me, silent
snowflakes on lashes: Gone, but
Crystal-dazzling.
**********************
He licked his eyebrows.
'Lie down, I think I love you.'
He did; so did I.
********************* |
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Went to see Tom Hiddleston do 'Coriolanus' broadcast; an interesting and very physical interpretation; he is very impressive [and nearly nude occasionally]. |
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Went to 'War Horse' last night at the NAC; would have been a lovely one to go to with a good man; you believe the puppets are living, breathing animals. |
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[cont...]
So, for his 3rd and last chance, she told him to meet her outside the zoo when there were few patrons, and what he was to wear.
he was waiting as ordered, and ensuring no one else was around, attached one of her favourite nipple toys to him.
he had incredibly responsive nipples, and he was rock-hard in no time, but since he had dressed as ordered, this would not be detected by anyone else.
She advised him he had to be very quiet and vanilla, and he was not to discuss himself for the next hour.
For the next half-hour, he was very well-behaved, and chatted convivially with the Domme about the exhibits and passersby. his eyes rolled back appropriately when there were no others about and she could casually brush the back of her hand against his raging erection to confirm he was still at full-mast, as much as his device would permit... [cont.]
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A BDSM BedTime STory
Once upon a time, but not so long ago, and not so far away, lived a Domme.
She discovered that a lot, and she means, a LOT of men in uniform are excellent subs, and she enjoys both finding and being sought by them.
Her tastes are for long, lean, clean-shaven knights, but one day a big bear sergeant amused her, and she decided to take him on a test run. he did not do well, so she bade him goodbye, and set him free in the forests of the west.
Very soon, ANOTHER bear sergeant approached and amused her, so she warned him what happened to the other bear when he did not obey, and he promised he wouldn't act like that, ever ever.
This Domme enjoyed men of stamina, and this bear began to brag about his pain threshold and prowess but without any demonstration. The Domme reminded the bear she preferred a modest but honest man, but still he persisted.
So, for his 3rd and last chance, she told him to meet her outside the zoo, and ... [cont. |
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Funny 'cuz it's true.
A girlfriend divorced her slut husband, and is now in her 2nd ever sexual relationship. She's a shy catholic girl, but got up the nerve to msg me about anal.
So I waxed poetic, and in the middle had to make myself come as I reminisced about the first time I was Taking one particularly good man with me on top. I was slowwwly pumping in rhythm with his hip curls, then I changed my thrusts to counterpoint which is the signal to him that I'm going to come. A tall, slim, long-torso'd, graceful, supple, athletic man, he then twisted underneath me, gently but firmly suckled my nipple into his mouth, and in a moment I bucked and came so hard inside him that I tore a ligament in my wrist. I didn't feel the pain for minutes from the climax endorphins coursing through me; an interesting conversation with the orthopaedic surgeon --
After I [cough] came back online, I added a couple of more suggestions about lube, strapon sizes and harnesses, and other cautions about how to gently but firmly Take a man's ass, and sent it off.
She msg'd me back, thanked me politely, but said her bf wants to try anal ON her. Ohhhhhh . . .
So I said as I always do, 'Fuck his ass first so he knows how it feels, then once you can come inside him, try it for yourself.'
Happy New Year to all the good dogs who dream of being Taken! |
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Happiest of New Years and pleasingest of pats to all the *good* dogs who, although not Mine, sent lovely wishes for the holidays.
May we soon get who we deserve! |
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This should be written with a big plume-y pen:
New Year's Resolutions:
1. take a good man on another dream vacation: ice hotel in Lapland? Over-the-water bungalow in BoraBora? Back to Paris?
2. Take that good man.
3. ride a narwhal. |
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a very Merry Christmas to all the good men, sub and vanilla, who make this world a better, safer and happier place :). Je t'adore!
And to all the catfishers, trollers, twitchy switches and very bad dogs indeed this year who skipped out on meeting: may an ex-con in a bad Santa suit blackjack you with a stocking full of coal :D.
But on a lovely Yuletide as tonight that a Christmas-y Mistress's thoughts turn towards you lovely men, and those soon to be.
Peace on Earth and good will to good men.
Happy Christmas to almost all, and to almost all, a Good Night! |
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"All I Want For Christmas Is You"
I don't want a lot for Christmas; There is just one man I need:
I don't care for twitchy switches, Or the ones obsessed with pee.
I just want subs of my own, More than you could ever know.
Make my wish come true! Subbie, all I want for Christmas is you.
Don't want would-be doms or bottoms ; I need one good man who kneels.
And I don't care for bois or trannies Prancing 'round in lucite heels.
I don't want a man in stockings, Pensioners with wedding rings;
Santa Claus can't make me happy If some vibes are all he brings
I want one sub for my own, More than you could ever know.
Make my wish come true! All I want for Christmas is you.
You, subbie
I don't ask for much on Christmas; I don't want men hooked on 'snow'
And I'm just gonna keep on passing On men who love only toes.
I could make a fist and flex it Upwards t'wards a man's North Pole;
I prefer a kneeling smiling Licker's brain and heart and soul
'Cause I just want you here tonight, Strapon nudging ass so tight...
What more can I do? Subbie, all I want for Christmas is you
You, subbie
When the moonlight shines so brightly Down upon a good man bare,
And the sound of my man begging, Gasps and breathcatch in the air ...
Now every sub is singing! I hear those cockbells ringing!
Santa, won't you bring me the man I really need?
Won't you please bring my subbie to me?
Oh, I don't want a lot for Christmas; This is all I'm asking for:
I just want to see my subbie Kneeling right outside my door
Oh, I just want you for my own, More than you could ever know :'-)
Make my wish come true! Subbie, all I want for Christmas is
You, subbie,
All I want for Christmas is yoooooou.
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subbie, IT'S WARM INSIDE
I really can't stay - My subbie, your ass is swell.
I've got to go away - My subbie, I'll warm it well.
This evening has been - I'll put it just a little bit in.
So very nice - I'll rub your ass, and warm it nice.
My mother will start to worry - Clever pup, I never hurry,
My father will be pacing the floor - Listen to My strapon-vibe roar!
So, really, I'd better scurry - Handsome pup, I never hurry.
Well, maybe just a half a drink more - Put some music on, while I the Astroglide pour...
The neighbours might think - My subbie, I'll be great up in there!
Say, what's in this drink - Never any roofies in there.
I wish I knew how - My eyes are like starlight,
To break the spell - I'll nip your nape, your nipples swell...
I ought to say no, no, Mistress - Mind if I move closer?
At least I'm gonna say that I tried - I'd never hurt your insides!
I really can't stay - My subbie, don't hold out!
Ahh, but it's warm inside
C'mon, subbie,
I simply must go - My subbie, it's cold out there,
The answer is no - Ooh, subbie, it's warm in there.
This welcome has been - I'm lucky that you dropped in,
So nice and warm - Look out the window, now just bend!
My sister will be suspicious - man, your mouth tastes delicious!
My brother will be there at the door - Waves of pleasure on a tropical shore--
My maiden aunt's mind is vicious - Gosh, your ass feels delicious!
Well maybe just a half a drink more - Never such an ass- ICE!storm before.
I've got to go home - Oh, subbie, you'll never freeze in here,
Say, where is my coat - My hands past your waist in here,
You've really been grand - you thrill when I touch your . . . hand
But don't you see - We need to do this thang to you
There's bound to be talk tomorrow - Think of my life-long sorrow
At least there will be plenty implied - If this un-impaled orgasm died!
I really can't stay - Get over that hold out!
Ahh, Mistress, it's cold outside!
Can't you stay awhile longer, subbie?
Well..I really shouldn't...all right
This'll make it worth your while, subbie!
Ahh, Mistress, You're warmmm innnnside! |
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in a Marilyn Monroe 'Happy Birthday, Mr. President' voice:
Santa baby, slip a subbie under the tree for Me;
I've been an awfully good Domme.
Santa baby, I want to hurry up his chimney tonight.
Santa baby, a straight sub, non-convertible, too, eyes blue.
I'll stay Up for him, dear Santa baby, please help Me hurry up his chimney tonight.
Think of all the fun We've missed!
Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed :-(
Next year I could do more than fist,
If you'd check off my Christmas list.
Boo doop bee doop,
Santa honey, I wanna peg and really it's not that big...
I've been an Angel all year!
Santa baby, help Me hurry up his chimney tonight.
Santa cutie, there's one thing I really should bring:
The deed to an Astroglide mine.
Santa cutie, help Me hurry up his chimney tonight.
Santa baby, I'm filling his stocking with blindfolds, cuffs, and crops,
I need local, not just on-line.
Santa baby, help Me hurry up his chimney tonight
I want to trim his Christmas face
With some collar 'decorations' bought at Leather and Lace.
I really do believe in you;
Let's see if you believe in Me!
Boo doop bee doop,
Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing: a cockring
(I don't mean a phone).
Santa baby, help Me hurry up My subbie tonight,
Hurry up his chimney tonight,
Hurry up My subbie tonight. |
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I love cricket and cricket commentary: 'maiden overs' 'ragged cherry' 'silly mid-leg'. |
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Driving to NAC last night, waiting for light; car passed in through-lane with license 'BEG2SRV'; if only there wasn't a Woman in the passenger seat, I would have honked! |
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Le sigh! I love having a lover on nights we fall back, padding around naked, smiling wickedly as he turns the clocks back three hours before he jumps back into bed... |
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A best friend was brought up *very* conservatively, and has only ever been with a couple of very conservative men, including her current husband. When we were talking about great sex tonight, she half-jokingly said, 'Wow, I would love to watch when you Take a man', and I said, half-seriously, 'I think it would be good for you.'
So we were talking about the logistics; I trust her completely, and said if my next partner agreed, it could be arranged. She became even more interested and excited, and then I thought she might feel guilty about it because she could never tell her husband.
She started, and said, 'But couldn't he watch, too?'
*NO WAY.* One of my pups, a good Brit, once called her husband a fuschia plant: never contented: 'It's too hot. I'm cold. I'm thirsty. I'm dry. Feed me. There's not enough light. It's too dark.'...
True dat, so if her husband were in the room, he would actually be saying things like that aloud as I'm Taking a good man's ass.
So, yet another fantasy will remain so. |
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Spiderman question:
if all your ex-'s were hung upside-down in identical costumes/masks and you had to identify them by kissing them sweetly: could you? |
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With the risk of drinking alcohol changing responses and responsibility, I don't drink if there's even the *slightest* possibility of having sex.
Tonight, going out with girlfriends before a show. Let the bellinis flow, and the drunk-texting of ex's begin! |
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Interesting and appreciative guesses about my costume last night: most got it half-right, a few got it precisely right... and then there were 'Christina Aguilera' and 'Marie Antoinette'.
But alas that I had to take things out of the toy chest for Hallowe'en and not for bedsports :-( |
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Re-posting one from a year ago, to counteract the sweet nostalgic melancholia from hearing 'But Not For Me' ...
Every man looks even more beautiful when breast-worshipping in my arms, content yet intent, rockhard yet in peaceful bliss.
I adore ex-smokers. They are *so* oral and are so greedy to suckle and keep on suckling.
My first orgasm was a 'second base' breastgasm: in my personal armamentarium, it was 'light', but so surprising and completely out-of-control. They got better ;-) , and now they are the perfect appetiser to a proper face-fucking multiple climax.
And imagine my delight at discovering the more good men suckle, my nipples stay at at least half-mast allll the time, encouraging even more breastplay and faster, harder orgasms; what a beautiful loop.
Time stands still for us both when a good man latches on. A recent ex-smoker was particularly skilled and fantastic at nursing; starting out slow, reverent and gentle, knowing from the crescendo firmness of my nipple in his mouth when to gently increase the negative pressure or speed, his erection getting even harder when I would whisper 'Harder!', his whimpers of pleasure as my breast swelled and my breath sped up until his groan of delight when my back would arch and waterfalls of bliss would cascade from my nipple to my leaping womb, or I would utter a monosyllable telling him his oral skills were instantly required elsewhere.
In between good men, I've even tried a couple of devices to mimic the sensations, but nothing compares to the perfect pressure, rhythm and release of a good man's smile around my breast.
Purrrr . . . |
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This has been quite a summer for fellow-fulgarophiliasts!
Boo ooo ooom . . . |
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It's very difficult to watch a Cirque du Soleil show with a good man; the whole spectacle of light and music, the male grace of acrobats in skimpy costumes, their impossible positions...le sigh! his forearm might well be stroked to near orgasm in such conditions. |
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Ms Aakasha listed what turns her on about subs: lovely!
* He reacts - intensely, honestly, passionately.
That means eye contact (if he isn't blindfolded). He tries to communicate every available emotion in his scale to my soul with the use of his eyes, often so effectivel y that I have to look away out of discomfort or blindfold him because it gives me chills or makes me ache with lust.
* He uses his mouth
I am orally fixated on a man's mouth. If I am not USING it (lol), he licks his lips (nerves, or bites his lips, thinking, etc) to make me take note of it, he does things to make me look at his mouth - it makes me think of kissing him, or using his mouth in some manner, or gagging him, or ...oh my. Just anything.
* He moves his body in subtle, suggestive ways
He knows I am hyper aware of his body movements, especially hips, wrists, ankles. He struggles against restraints, but in a seductive way (no lame thrashing, unless it's just the right time, and timing is everything), he uses very understated tugs here and there, he rotates a hip, he curls a toe, he makes a fist, he outstretches a finger to try to touch my hand
* He breathes - just right
Breathing on its own is a damn fetish of mine. So he may just hold it for a second, or let it out at the right time, or change tempo, or manipulate it to give a clue to his real or manufactured level of fear, and I am caught in HIS web for a moment. His breathing when we are kissing or when I'm allowing him to speak is critical.
* Whimpering done right
I absolutely detest whiny crybabies but can be put near orgasm with whimpering - I give immediate feedback to a man when I have him beg for something. But I don't like to have to retrain him over and over again regarding how I want him to make soft, subtle sounds to indicate his suffering. Most important, it should not be overused. In fact, NOTHING should be overused....which brings the last and most important point....
* EMPATHY and INTUITION |
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One grandparent was illiterate, another almost died during the war in Europe, another almost died in childbirth. So lucky, so VERY lucky they each struggled and fought but got to Canada. Happy to be here! HAPPY CANADA DAY¬! |
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I adore hockey players and refs: so modest in victory, deflecting every media prod trying to get them to brag, and instead dragging the conversation back to thank their teammates, old coaches and teams, and families (ooh, and they respond to authority, have incredible pain thresholds and exquisite skaters' butts).
In complete contrast to f'ing American football and basketball smacktalkers. |
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I consider myself lucky enough to have done almost everything on my sexual bucket-list; of course, there are a few things I'd like to do AGAIN, but that's another journal entry.
I recently received a consideration request from a man with a piercing combination I dearly want to ride: tongue and upper-lip; I don't think I'd ever want to get off because I'd keep getting myself off! And to think of waking up with that combo smiling sweetly around my nipple: groaaaan... But I also need a sweet smart straight single man to be attached.
The other one on my list is an apadravya -- le sigh! |
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I know a couple of NHL wives; it's good news/bad news for them: the bad news is playoff beards; the good news is their husbands are too tired for sex. |
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Tens of thousands evacuated from flash floods in Alberta; please donate: redcross.ca
My ex- and his family are safe; thanks to all who helped.
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Awww; a Thunderstorm: just like all dressed up and nowhere to go: all that power, and no one to facef*ck! |
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Happy Father's Day to all the good men and great dads out there. Nothing sexier! |
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I expressed my surprise that Amazon dot com now carries male chastity devices; a distant sub sent a link both to the site and a pic of himself modelling. Unrequested pix are almost always unappealing, but to my surprise, it was tasteful, and upon closer Inspection held a small image of the man modelling it, reflected in the chrome tube.
Always something new! |
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World-famous drug-, smoking- and drinking addict Michael Douglas blames his oral cancer on cunnilingus. At least in his ignorance, he also claims it's a cure 
Stay in school, kids, take science, stats and logic courses, and just keep licking!
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Saw a guy in an unironically shiny grey suit: wasn't sure if he was a lost knight looking for his warhorse, or someone who really, REALLY likes Gangnam Style. |
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Who I'm attracted to: witty, kind, straight local/Anglo single subbie men.
Who I attract: conservative illiterate obnoxious middle/eastern European do-me dom/switchy/transv/married sexagenerian [and not in a good way] businessmen. Dammit!
Uppity guys who reinforce my limits by questioning them, whose first sentence to me contains an order or the words fck/sck, and those who insist they're completely straight yet have fellating selfies as profile pix...words fail.
It just makes the good ones glow in comparison!
patpat
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Happy National Masturbation Month! I'd prefer to celebrate it in a very particular way. |
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Much love to the Brits, who kept calm and carried on with the London marathon, without fuss, fanfare or folderol.
Je t'aime! |
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Don't just sit there: I love New England in general and Boston in particular: give generously to the Red Cross: in Canada, donations will be tripled:
www.RedCross.ca
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I'd read that the fashion of far too-low-slung jeans was from the lack of belts on male prison inmates, but I *hadn't* heard the theory that it was a signal that they were sexually receptive gay bottoms; I think that
a) must be immediately broadcast to all the youngsters walking around like that, and
b) anally receptive straight male subs in dress suits should immediately start putting their pants on backwards! |
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One of life's simple pleasures: very content after screwing
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and otherwise assembling new Ikea table and chairs ;-)
Deeply satisfying, and perhaps why there are so many lovely tall Scandinavian sub men; and all it takes is patience, know-how, and a little curvy key JUST the right size. |
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Robert Pattinson getting fisted in a stretch limo in Cronenberg's 'Cosmopolis': amazing! He looks and sounds like a good man taking a strap-on and being told to remain very, very quiet, yet still making those delectable noises.
F'ing fanTASTIC! |
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I had just written about a little unexpected present that made me happy for doing a good deed for 49% of the population, and received a death threat from a short fat little 'dom' troll from the same demographic I'd just spent my hard-earned cash on to save.
Don't worry, good sub men, I *still* love you! |
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A cousin's young husband was just diagnosed with prostate Ca, so I sent some £ to the UK Orchid charity appeal for men's cancers.
Was surprised that I had a package, and puzzled, unwrapped a pair of ornamental testicles in thanks for my donation.
I love owning a good man's testicles metaphorically AND literally, but now you can, too!
Bauballs, the bollock-shaped christmas decoration: all money to UK men's cancers charity.
http://bauballs.co.uk/
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Porn can be so poisonous.
I like good porn as much as the next man, but it's fast going the way of french postcards. Remember the 80's, with cheerful participants grinning and chatting with each other, women with normal breasts and powderpuff muffs, occasionally armpit bushes, their men with bouncy erections? Replaced with angry men, and women empty of everything but semen and silicon, silent but for growled orders and plastic moans, bent at rough rhythmless yet orchestrated penetration. You can almost hear a 'director' saying, 'OK, now gag and spit, then turn over.' Goodbye wide-on for any woman, and any man worth his salt.
Most strap-on porn is repulsive. Unhappy balloon-breasted tops with huge strap-ons and no visible emotion on botoxed faces penetrating gay but not happy bottoms while never even grazing any other part of them. Nipples not erect, no sexual flush, no arched muscles, no breathless spasm, no muffled groans, no whispered commands, no caught breaths. Joyless. She doesn't even come, which should practically be a crime.
Where is touch?
Where is the spooning, the neck nips, the caresses of a great Domme? Where are the backwards-rolling eyes, the whispers over his shoulder, the involuntary backwards hip motions of a good man begging to be Taken? Where are the small strong hands roaming freely over his back, chest, shoulders, mounds of his hips? Where is the gentle but firm preparation of a good man's ass and the sound of a good man being entered? The mutual moans as rock-hard nipples graze a sensitised back? The finding of the perfect rhythm, first together, then in counterpoint towards a climax, mutual or otherwise, as she bucks uncontrollably and collapses on his back, still coming in his ass, groaning, thrusting and shaking? And never have I seen a good man give his panting and exhausted Domme aftercare, tenderly settling her back in bed, unbuckling her harness, lying down on her to give his warm weight against her aftershocks or his tongue for deeper needs, then murmuring thanks and sweet somethings before tucking her in, giving her dazed, flushed, smiling face kisses and a drink of cool water, then padding off to clean the strapon and himself before joining her for a post-climax nuzzle, spoon and nap.
At least gay porn has retained some of the good-natured fucking of 80's porn, with much finer bodies enjoying the journey with their partners. Just needs more naps.
ps: the verification string was: EqSexe: too right!
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Gave money to the Canadian Red Cross, American Red Cross, and now through Amazon.com to a Brooklyn Registry, sent blankets :-)
Try it! |
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To all good dogs in coastal BC: stay safe! |
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Scarred for life: tried to find a picture of *normal* post-menopausal breasts for friends' daughter's high school science project on advances in breast cancer. No wonder they asked for an adult scientist to help! [and before the trolls start baying for instagrams, no, I'm happily menstrual and flash no one but my lovers.]
Holy crap, normal breasts are smothered in surgery, barely legal porn, and really horrific pics of rare cancers. Finally found a pair of normals, sadly in a 'pre-surgery' pic from a California male plastic surgeon's site. How sad.
But I imagine guys would feel the same looking for 'normal human penis'. |
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From 1903 Texas;
Why am I an Atheist. Because it has dawned upon me that it is right to be so, and upon investigation I find no real evidence of the divine origin of the scriptures. And because I cannot, as a refined and respectable woman, take to my bosom as a daily guide a book of such low morals and degrading influences. Written by a lot of priests, I cannot accept a salvation that is based wholly upon the dreams of an ancient and superstitious people, with no proof save blind faith. Everything that so many people think transpires from the supernatural, and many things that would really perplex the average mind, have a natural and material foundation in the workings of the human mind; that is, things that are not connected with our solar system. It is ignorance of the scientific working of their own natures and mind that keep so much "mystery" in the air; and as long as there is a mystery afloat the people will ascribe it to the supernatural. I am an Atheist because I know the Bible will not do to depend upon. I have tried it, and found it wanting. In fact, I found in the scriptures the origin of woman's slayer, and that it was one of God's main points to oppress women and keep them in the realms of ignorance. I am in the ranks of Liberalism because of its elevating principles, its broad road to freedom of thought, speech, and investigation.
MINNIE O. PARRISH, 23 years old, Leonard, Texas |
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The only thing more intimate than Taking a good man's cherry is shopping for the implement which will Take him.
It may be on-line, him sitting on a stool in front of me as I search my favourite stores, idly caressing and nipping him, grinding against the narrow manly ass that will soon be mine, literally. It may be in a store, as we walk swiftly past the size-queen monsters [invariably vibe-less, anyway].
We're looking for slim, medium to medium-long, flared base [since we don't want to end his defloration with a fishing trip in Emerg] which will take a vibe, a defined head. That narrows the field considerably.
Even the bravest pup is nervous, blushing prettily but steadfast, a little scared but fascinated, determined to give pleasure and hopefully receive some, trustworthy and trusting.
What is available and what fits [cough] our bill varies rather annoyingly, and what a sad thing to leave a store empty-handed. But how exciting to find what we seek, with perhaps some ripples or whorls and gradations for our pleasure.
Almost as exciting as the first time a good man strips, begs, assumes the position, shivering slightly as the pool of lubricant warms in the small of his back, and I caress his sinewy thighs, his rock-hard nipples, his quivery breaths, and press and maneuver his ass by the mounts of his hips until the pool brims and slowwwly cascades down between his buttocks and against his breech, and I dabble our new purchase against it until he begs again, and with a final caress I grab his hair, nip his nape, breathe, 'Mine!', then grasp his shoulders, leeean in and --
I Take him.
The sound he makes as I enter him is the sound of an expensive car door slamming: 'uhhghh'; intoxicating. Slowly, my depth and tempo increase. Just as with woman having vanilla sex for the first time, he may or may not come, but good man, he has been practicing, and he soon is thrusting back in counterpoint; I may not even need the vibe in the base to come hard in his hot ass.
And I do.
And if he doesn't, well, at least there's always next time.
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I LOVE OGLAF! absolutely an illustration of an e-mail I received yesterday, except the guilty party should be a dude.
http://oglaf.com/submission/
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Bettman is the anti-christ of hockey. He's a mean, short little US worm who should be the accountant and not the commissioner of the National Hockey League. He watered down Canadian hockey by bringing it at high prices to southern US markets that couldn't care less about it, and making ticket prices unaffordable to the average Northern American family.
In the 90's pre-Bettman, you could see a Canadiens games for $20, tax included. That same seat today will cost ya $265.
Or would, except Bettman has decreed a lockout of the players and their union, and negotiations have stopped for at least 6 weeks. Again, for the 3rd time since Bettman's been commish, and the players are leaving to play in Europe.
I love watching good graceful hockey, the players' bods are dreamy, and in real life Canadian players are smart, funny, polite, good men and for once, good role models for kids, unlike basket- or football players.
F-Bettman, and not in a good way. |
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One of the many magical things about being multiorgasmic is finding something new to make one 'pop'.
Everyone remembers breaking their hymen, but most of us prefer to remember the first good kiss, the first GREAT kiss, the first good orgasm, the first GREAT orgasm, the first orgasm from intercourse, the first g-spot orgasm, and tonight, from analingus.
He was a lovely sturdy physiotherapist, in a time when mesomorphs made me purr.
We discussed it beforehand, and started with lights blazing so we could both gauge my response. I told him to bring me to the brink, but not over the edge, so the good man licked and nuzzled and suckled me into a nice, comfortable wide-on with warm, wide, wet petals.
He warmed and licked a small vibe set on 'low' and settled it against me to keep my buzz literally on. I held onto it as he pulled me down to the edge of the bed, the box-springs beyond the mattress for this occasion so I could rest my feet and keep my ass available. We grinned at each other, sexual explorers that we were, I lay back relaxed and wondering, and he leaned in. He gently stroked and licked my own juices back to my asshole, and breathed against me. I squirmed and rocked happily. And then his tongue flickered against my star.
In another breath, I was coming.
I could feel my clit and vagina pulsing as usual against the vibe, but my ass seemed to contract in counterpoint. Good man, he instantly sensed what I needed and could never articulate, and leaned further in to gently thrust his tongue in just as my anus finished contracting and reel the tip back in as it began again, over and over and over.
His vibrating moans of pleasure, the warmth and strength and rhythm and wetness of his tonguetip were individually incredible, but together! astonishing. As the climax seemed to be waning, I was ready to relax and enjoy, but he thrust his tonguetip in a bit more firmly and deeply, and a darker, deeper pleasure began, and I began to fuck his face in earnest and came again, groaning.
It had taken only a couple of minutes to tongue-fuck me and my ass into immobility. We were both astonished, but he dutifully and tenderly rearranged my limbs and tucked me back into bed before padding to the bathroom and doing his dental hygiene routine, before padding back for his well-earned kiss, cuddle and compliment before I slid into placid and beautifully exhausted sleep.
Of other times, more later. I have to go rearrange my mattress . . . |
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Urolagnia; not to everyone's taste! ;-)
One of few things up for negotiation is watersports. I realise quite literally it's not to everyone's taste, and we always have a discussion beforehand. Fortunately every man I've discussed it with has been willing to try, and for different reasons.
Voiding before and after vanilla sex is important to help prevent bladder infections, which I loathe with a white-hot hatred. So it generally begins as hygiene.
But a couple of men started it as aftercare.
They orgasmed me into immobility, and while I was still literally unable to move, they gently snuggled down back under me and licked and suckled my urethra whilst gently and sweetly urging me to 'Let go'. The first time it was such a surprise I orgasmed again!
Others slide me down supine to the edge of the bed, place my feet on the chest or wall, waggle their brows and gently stroke and suck until I groan and void.
And no good man has ever lost a drop!
For others it's part of hydrating for a long session. It's also a Correction, when I use a little toy to void upright, or before Taking a good man with a strap-on.
And how I appreciate the good men and few who have, while having The Talk for the first time, groaned 'OoooOOOOH!' and licked their eyebrows :-)
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I've been having the opposite of nightmares. 'Daystallions' just doesn't cut it; why don't we have a word for it?
Apparently the Bantus have a phrase, but they could have just been messing with whitey: 'Bilita Mpash: an amazing, pleasant dream. Not just“good”; the opposite of a nightmare'.
It's exhilarating to wake up, not just refreshed, but in a fantastic mood as if I've already had an exciting adventure for hours and not just for seconds behind my closed lids like a compressed Avatar movie. I'm always doings something great in these dreams which colour and flavour my whole morning, and for far, far longer than a nightmare.
And not too shabby if I wake up with diamond-cutter nipples so hard as if they're suckling my breasts from the inside out. Le sigh! love guiding a morning smile to one to make it more than real . . . there is little more perfect in the world than a good man's latch.
Bilita Mpash, y'all! |
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Sitting up with a sick friend; most of his family is out of town, and he told them they don't have to come. He's getting better, but still has plenty of trouble breathing which he says is 'just tired'.
He can't get comfortable in the hospital bed and his roomie snores, so we're playing a lot of card games and watching TV in the evening so his wife can go home. Hurray for DVD players with two earphone jacks!
I bought him 'Rescue Me'; all 6.5 seasons for $69: bargain! We shot through our least favourite Season '4' and are already on 5. I thought he'd want to skip the hospital scenes, but he's cool with it.
Wow, Steven Pasquale has a beautiful singing voice.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dUxTAckC-7c&feature=related
If he had the face of ex-father Mickey on the show [Robert John Burke] with the wit and heart of Denis Leary: my dream dude!
Apparently Burke is the new Robocop; at least they picked another guy with a beautiful mouth. |
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Brit subs have the best profiles, and approaches:
peonforHer:
"When one first approaches a Woman, here as elsewhere, one has to develop the language of poetry. One has to make the Lady smile with one's finest language of romance and seduction. That is the art of Love; it has been thus for an eternity, and it will always be thus. It beats the hot steaming shite out of me why more men don't understand that." |
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My response to a forum question about snake-bite kits for nipple play:
They're excellent! Even the cheap kits come with two sizes. Try them on yourself before you put them on a partner, so you get an idea. As with any bondage involving blood flow, have an alarm to remind you to take them off. If he's hairy, he might have to shave to get good suction, and can use them with a little water-based lubricant; Astroglide is my favourite. It's amazing to see what happens physically and physiologically to them, even guys with micronipples who protest theirs have no feeling [eyeroll].
So, get your guy bound, trussed firmly, and excited. Apply a suction cup to one of his nipples [or one each, his-and-hers ;-)]; wait a moment for him to get accustomed, then squeeeeze it a little, and let go [the cup should remain attached]. he should be interested and/or groaning. Continue batting and squeezing it occasionally, then just before or at the moment of climax, release it! and fret his swollen top-hat nipple a bit. he'll go mad, in a good way.
It's also great for discipline. A cop was boasting about his threshold; as correction, we went to a public place, and before we arrived I affixed a suction cup on his nipple. When we were alone for a moment, I reached over and took the cup off. This athletic muscular good bull of a man dropped groaning to his knees in a nanosecond, and shortly had to scramble to his feet red-faced and wheezing as a family of five came by.
Beautiful! |
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Every man looks even more beautiful when breast-worshipping in my arms, content yet intent, rockhard yet in peaceful bliss.
I adore ex-smokers. They are *so* oral and are so greedy to suckle and keep on suckling.
My first orgasm was a 'second base' breastgasm: in my personal armamentarium, it was 'light', but so surprising and completely out-of-control. They got better ;-) , and now they are the perfect appetiser to a proper face-fucking multiple climax.
And imagine my delight at discovering the more good men suckle, my nipples stay at at least half-mast allll the time, encouraging even more breastplay and faster, harder orgasms; what a beautiful loop.
Time stands still for us both when a good man latches on. A recent ex-smoker was particularly skilled and fantastic at nursing; starting out slow, reverent and gentle, knowing from the crescendo firmness of my nipple in his mouth when to gently increase the negative pressure or speed, his erection getting even harder when I would whisper 'Harder!', his whimpers of pleasure as my breast swelled and my breath sped up until his groan of delight when my back would arch and waterfalls of bliss would cascade from my nipple to my leaping womb, or I would utter a monosyllable telling him his oral skills were instantly required elsewhere.
In between good men, I've even tried a couple of devices to mimic the sensations, but nothing compares to the perfect pressure, rhythm and release of a good man's smile around my breast.
Purrrr . . .
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Back from a couple of days in Kingston: beautiful town which should have been the nation's capital, 'cept its sponsor died from tetanus after a riding accident. Poor Lord Sydenham.
At least I enjoyed buying clothing for My next great dog which has QUEEN'S emblazoned across the back and chest ;-) |
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Nocturnal Orgasms and Mandalas.
It took a while, but I was able to carve my first 'real' boyfriend into a cunnilingual force. How comfortable to be able to relax and presume every sexual encounter will end with a mind-blowing orgasm: you know, the birthright of every healthy male.
I discovered the more I come, the more I come and the harder I come: delicious! I also discovered the prime frequency; too often and the climaxes could be too light, so a little pause, and the orgasms were even harder!
Of course, in an age before Skype, there were enforced absences, and being an old-fashioned girl, we didn't masturbate, which made each reunion an extravaganza. But that made the time between blissful climaxes so long that my body took matters into its own hands, but hands-free.
During one abstinence, I went to bed alone with memories and sadly unsuckled aching nipples. I awoke coming. Hard. I bucked and moaned and thrust my leaping clit against the talented dancing ass of a dream incubus, and for the moment before my eyelids sprang open, expecting to see my lover's pale nape and short dark hair before my eyes, I saw a golden mandala, shimmering and flowing more smoothly than my orgasmic contractions.
If I were born a few hundred years ago, I would either be revered as a saint whose god manifested itself, or stoned as a witch.
I understand it's physiologic, the pressure of the lids causing light patterns, like when you rub your eyes, but it was so astounding, the image remains fresh, scintillating and moving today.
And to this day, I adore waking up in full-blown [hah!] orgasm, but it's sweeter still coming against a warm smile and frisky tongue than a phantasm. And if there happens to be a second smile on my questing nipple, so much the better.
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Have been disappointed in the Ottawa Bluesfest this year again; the greedyguts promoters have just ladled everything on stage except blues or jazz: until now!
Great blue-sy night, now listening to the cool Norah Jones: liked her dad more until now, since I really hated her country phase. Too bad about the sound bleeding from the other stages, the pong of bongs, the hoots of drunks. One of many reasons 'twould be nice to have another copper on my arm [and in another position behind closed doors]; love going to events with good men.
Heavenly creamy voice.
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Shame.
I met Michael Fassbender once at work; a beautifully dressed, wonderfully smelling, polite but private Irishman.
So it was a bit of a shock to see the star of the movie about the real Winnie-the-Pooh bear acting the part of a sexual obsessive.
I'm all for full-frontal male nudity and joyous orgasms in company, but 'Shame' has too much in-your-face for my liking, and is disturbingly more exploitive of the actresses than actors But it still made me think, especially of when I made a conscious decision to have relationships and make love rather than have orgasms without connection, and smugly reinforcing that I made the right decision. Er, twice ;-).
Worth watching for first half-hour and the last ten minutes.
Oh, and there's a scene where someone is doing something that I *love* to do to good men.
Did I miss a chance to do it to Mr. Fassbender?!
Shame.
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I feel sorry for women and men who aren't aware of their cycles.
I recall a male archaeologist who found a piece of antler with a repeating series of tick marks, which he couldn't understand because they didn't follow a lunar cycle of 30 or 31 days, but slightly shorter at 25-28 days [duh!]. Fortunately in the next month's issue was a lovely dry and sarcastic reply from a female archaeologist setting him straight, that a woman thousands of years ago was planning when she'd next need a stack of sphagnum moss and/or a smiling young man to help her with her cramps.
From half-way through my period until I ovulate, my already-high sexual drive goes into Overdrive: I reminisce about my most recent great orgasm, and relive particular favourites throughout the day, and have to drag my consciousness kicking and screaming back to work. Men I wouldn't notice a week later make my nipples spring into action. Then at night [okay, and day], my orgasms are long, loud, and luscious.
Yesterday I noticed my pre-ovulation discharge; one man told me at a cocktail party he could find the ovulating [and horny] women at any gathering without having to taste them, just by watching them sneeze, and looking for the tell-tale long, clear mucus. Ever since then I've taken care to bring a proper lady's cloth handkerchief to parties!
But today, after the bliss of a night of pre-ovulation orgasms, comes the cramp and pain of ovulation, as the fluid from the ruptured cyst sloshes around inside my abdomen, causing trouble, as my egg races towards, in my case, DNA extermination, and has me yearning for the heat, weight and smile of a good man lying down in my arms, the world's best combination hot water bottle, distraction and vibrator.
A friend younger than I has been in menopause for a year; I know I won't miss the mess, expense, zits, pain and inconvenience of one's period, but I hope I'll still have the libido, the slickness, the carbonating hormones of OverDrive.
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A noob sub started a thread asking how we each met our dom/domme/sub; here's mine:
Found my best sub in the gym. Walked past the weight room, saw a gorgeous blond Adonis workin' on his pecs, shrugged, hit the pool. After my hour of laps, I emerged sopping wet and raccoon-eyed from my goggles, and he came up to me, and said, 'You swim like a Nereid'. I almost came!, not only because he used the word, but because he presumed I would know it. We agreed to meet in the foyer after we changed. I waited 15 minutes, sighed, then left. I wait for no one.
I found out later he was grooming and styling himself to look PERFECT. We met again, he sincerely apologised and told me the truth. Given the state of his 'do, I believed him and gave him a second chance, and the next night I ground out a great orgasm against his heat [whoever called it a dry hump doesn't know how to do it right]. As we kissed goodnight at the door, he, still hard, leaned against me, and I instinctively put a hand in his hair and drew him back. He knelt and whispered, 'I would never do anything you don't want me to.'
We discovered each other was an experienced slave and Domme in that very moment, and I came again against him without his coming, the second of many, many times.
I've made, but never met again or since, such a sexually proficient sub at first thrust; not only multiple orgasms without specific instructions, but G-spot, rimming, Queening, within a fortnight of meeting. It's so very relaxing to have a veteran sex slave, to be able to just lean back/stand over/sit down, confident I would be coming hard in mere moments: he and his smile still hold my personal record for most orgasms in one night.
I also learned first-hand from him that some subs cannot bear to come; distressing and puzzling at first to me when he didn't although even moreso for him when I forced him to climax. I made that mistake only once: rather than his just feeling grateful and sated, or disengaged and unmotivated afterwards like a bad bottom, his agitation and distress were genuine. So, I appreciated his self-denial and Service even more, then soon revelled in the incredible advantage of having and Taking a man who remains hard, eager and ready for hours, over and over again. Amazing!
But most amazing, and beautiful, was that we each recognised what we love in the other right from the start.
And he was never late again ;-)
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What's in a name?
Guys seem surprised that I won't answer a msg from a dude with '69' in his userID unless he's born in that year. Likewise, I didn't reply to 'jublomy' since I presumed his first name would be Heywood and of course my answer would be a resounding, Hell to the No.
Puerile gradeschool humour is an instant eyeroller and a flush of the 'delete' button. Likewise, sissy / b*tch/ slut /whore/ho/ hole / feet /panties/ bi/switch / worthless/ loser / shit/ cock / boi /fuck /fuckboi.
Although toyboy . . .
Anyhoo, a name is a snapshot of you. your profile picture should represent you as if you're applying for your dreamjob, which you really are, and so should your name. Put some deep thought into it: it shows, as does the lack. As they say, no second chances with a first impression; I'm lookin' at you, heywood.
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Ugh, I picked up '50 Shades' to see what the fuss was about, but it's from the viewpoint of a female masochist which always make Me physically nauseous. Poorly written, as well: don't know which makes me throw up in my mouth harder. And this is what moms think is porn? Double ugh!
At least here's the parody:
Hopefully someone will write a counterpoint from the right side of the kneel, with more pleasure and less pain.
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A new member was complaining on a forum about the lack of response to his scanty profile. An elder statesman, also male, gave him a thrashing then a pointer:
Secondly, guys far out number the girls in these groups. Us (sic) guys are horn dogs, we would meet up with a different women (sic) every week if the opportunity was there but women are a lot more selective. They can take thier (sic) time to peruse whats (sic) out there and select the right "match" for thier (sic) needs.
Although sexist to think all men think that way [see my previous post about how most women and lots of good men prefer LTRs for better-and-better sex as well as the 'R' part'], it was still funny, especially after a week of full-moon-worthy 'I'm lonely in my hotel' msgs and unsolicited cock shots (sick).
And interesting that the trolls flame my comments on his comments, rather than the original poster's! Cowards! |
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Like many northern countries, Canada has more than its fair share of artists. Our beloved CBC is being reduced to death by slow torture by the neocons, but we still had the Governor General's Performing Arts Awards. An ex- was nominated for one, a comedienne I adore received one, as well as RUSH, a band my brothers adore, so I thought it only fair to support the event, as well as 250 artsy kids who received tickets from a charity I support.
Imagine our surprise when the closing act was . . . PETE TOWNSHEND playing PINBALL WIZARD! WoooHOO!
And then to walk outside when the tower bells are chiming, to see a 'super' full moon: if only I had a good dog on my arm to share it with!
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I like my period. Don't get me wrong. Being sane, I don't like it like it, or looooove it. I hate the expense, the mess, the inconvenience, the laundry and the wardrobe malfunctions. And it feels so gooood when the cramps are gone, and especially once it's over for another moon.
But I love when my libido goes into overdrive, I love how good men love the scent, and I love seeing and tasting iron on the smile of a good man.
I just wish it was clear, like ovulation, and semen was blood.
Menstrual flow would be bragged about like jism, keyboards and condoms would come [hah!] with Wet-Wipes, and anaemic teenage boys would be passing out in gym class.
Enjoy your laundry, guys!
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A big storm is a-comin', and so should I. Why do I find thunderstorms so arousing?
Even as a kid, I enjoyed watching them roll in, although I grew up with men who still are frightened of them, which they say is because the sound is physically painful for them.
However, as an adult, I, and every partner I've ever had, are fellow keraunophiliacs. Is it the falling pressure, the lack of control, the concussion of thunder, the shock of lightning and the wait for rolling sound that make it common enough to have its own paraphilia?
I love receiving oral Service and watching the play of light on an eager smile, and I enjoy a tantric game of moving only during sound or light, either or both of us desperate for more . . . how piquant to have a good man begging on the end of a Strap-on, and praying for another jolt from Me and Jove. I even have a porch that permits us to be wind- and rain-swept, yet safe from voyeurs and lightning strikes.
And part of the reason I need a local licker is for a good man to watch the weather and have his smile between My thighs before the storm begins.
Booo ooo ooom.
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I hate generalisations.
Nothing gets my hackles up like a statement resembling 'men are from Vulcan and women are from Earth', but one truism that keeps cropping up is the difference in the quality of casual sex between us. I get a lot of sad msgs resembling, 'I'm in a hotel room, come over'. Blech. Guys just don't get it. I've never met or even heard a woman who stated the best sex she ever had was from a one-night stand.
Most women's orgasms improve with training their partner, which means multiple and leisurely coupling. Especially with BDSM; the call and response of doing things to good men improves with experience, trust, feedback and time. The catch of a good man's breath is far, far, sexier than a 'Give it to me, baybee' raunchy screech.
Men with a new partner are still pretty much guar-ron-teed a perfect orgasm. Women are pretty much guar-ron-teed they won't even GET an orgasm; they might squeeze out a few serviceable contractions, tops.
Fair? Nope. Are those valleys compensated by the incredible peaks we can reach compared to the more prosaic ranges of male climaxes? Prob'ly not.
Would I want to come as hard in a good man's ass the first time as the fortieth, or ejaculate in a good man's face moments after being introduced, like a straight female George Michael? Boo yah.
But I suppose if we could come like stallions with any partner, we'd all be rotting zombie lepers from various STDs, have 19 kids and counting, and be walking more bow-legged and shaky-thighed than a buckaroo cowboy.
Plus, I'd never get any work done. Never.
Sigh. And there's nothing like a good man making me laugh over coffee, and knowing what I'll be doing to him shortly and repeatedly.
So, I suppose for the safety of the human race, global economy and latex supplies, pair-bonding it is. |
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Oglaf rules!
http://oglaf.com/pea/1/
http://oglaf.com/cumsprite/
http://oglaf.com/ingratitude/2/
http://oglaf.com/ravine/1/
http://oglaf.com/sport/1/ |
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Hey, Barry, Full of Grace.
I *love* a graceful man.
A tall, unselfconsciously graceful man is like catnip to me.
When I see one walking down the street, I am reminded of one particular sub, and when I see one kneeling down to perform some vanilla task, my mouth waters.
One particular pup was not a gifted conversationalist, alas, so was relatively swiftly dismissed, but how that man could MOVE!
he had such skin hunger, and loved to be petted, caressed, and massaged, knowing it would excite me into doing things to him.
I would be sitting in my Command chair, and after he'd done some housework or other task, he would gracefully sit at my feet. How natural to start stroking his hair and rubbing his neck; until suddenly his shirt would be removed by either one of us, and soon my teeth would be in his neck, my fingers fretting his nipples, listening to the quiet catch of breath as he became even more aroused, and my favourite moves of all, he would, without standing, turn to bury his smile between my thighs, or move the ToyBox within my reach, disrobe and go down naked on all fours, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world for me to StrapOn and slap on some lubricant in the crack of his shivering ass, and even before I entered him, our rhythm would be perfect, and in almost no time I would be pulling hard on his shoulders and coming even harder in his dancing ass.
And afterwards a tall man would swiftly yet carefully climb into my lap, arrange himself to provide the perfect amount of warmth and weight against me to prolong the aftershocks, and smile smugly as he reached over to turn out the light for my delicious post-orgasm nap.
What a good dog. |
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Merry Christmas to all the *good* dogs, and looking forward to finding one *in* My stocking, not wearing their own! |
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Dear Santa: in a Marilyn Monroe 'Happy Birthday, Mr. President' voice:
Santa baby, slip a subbie under the tree for Me;
I've been an awfully good Domme.
Santa baby, I want to hurry up his chimney tonight.
Santa baby, a straight sub, non-convertible, too, eyes blue.
I'll stay Up for him, dear Santa baby, please help Me hurry up his chimney tonight.
Think of all the fun We've missed!
Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed :-(
Next year I could be more than good,
If you'd check off my Christmas list.
Boo doop bee doop,
Santa honey, I wanna peg and really it's not that big...
I've been an Angel all year!
Santa baby, help Me hurry up his chimney tonight.
Santa cutie, there's one thing I really do need,
The deed to an Astroglide mine.
Santa cutie, help Me hurry up his chimney tonight.
Santa baby, I'm filling his stocking with blindfolds and cuffs, and crops,
Sign your 'X' on the line.
Santa baby, help Me hurry up his chimney tonight
I want to trim his Christmas face
With some collar 'decorations' bought at Leather and Lace.
I really do believe in you;
Let's see if you believe in Me!
Boo doop bee doop,
Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing: a cockring
(I don't mean a phone).
Santa baby, help Me hurry up My subbie tonight,
Hurry up his chimney tonight,
Hurry up My subbie tonight. |
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I *love* touching good men.
However, this time I played catcher!
A girlfriend and I had a spa weekend; therefore, alas, no 'happy ending', but I do enjoy receiving massages almost as much as giving them.
I have a fantasy about 'Taking' a good man while he's up in gynaecologic stirrups; unclear on the details, since I can't climax unless my feet are planted far apart, but I also have one about a man on a massage table ;-)
Peter Gabriel always insists on having a masseuse; it doesn't matter to me except they have to be good, and it has to be masseurs if I'm having a couples' massage.
I love the way I feel after a couples' massage: very purry, a little wobbly as we stagger to the whirlpool sipping citrus water, then back to the hotel room to continue the massage, or nap and spoon, which naturally leads Taking a good man's ass.
But I do wonder about the possibilities with that massage table . . . uhh!
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I couldn't make myself come until I was 29.
It seems outrageous now in this internet era where anyone can read anything and buy any toy on-line, but until then I had to rely on good men for my pleasures.
My first orgasm was from my first 'real' boyfriend suckling sweetly on my nipple: I was amazed, and had never heard of that happening. That unlocked my ability to orgasm, and soon I was even waking up coming from great dreams. Although a breastgasm is a relatively 'light' orgasm, and fortunately usually a prelude to bigger, harder ones, it's one of my favourites, and one I miss the most when I don't have a good man in my life.
My most adventurous time sexually was in my 20's, when I had my first and only threesome/poly mmF, and my first trained sub. I would recommend either (or both!) to any Domme: having an unending supply of good hard men, and a man trained to give cascades of orgasms: bliss!
So it was after my trained sub moved for work, and after a relatively disappointing affair when I realised I'd dated a basically unsuitable asperger-y sub just for orgasms that I was determined to do something about them literally for myself.
And I happened into a bargain basement that had small 'massage' globes: half-circles, battery operated. $6.
On a long weekend, I took it out for a test-spin: and to my amazement, in my deprived state, it took only a couple of minutes and I was coming, then snoring in what Henry Rollins calls a 'masturbation crash helmet' post-orgasm enforced nap.
Things every teenager should know, but I didn't: you don't have to rely on a man for an orgasm.
But men are more than just a delightful accessory. I adore good men, good conversations, good laughs, good companionship, but at least now with my Hitachi I don't make bad relationship choices based on where I am in my cycle.
But how I miss a good man who can suck my nipple so sweetly I feel it there, and who can sweetly kiss me good night and good morning.
Dear Santa:
I've been very good this year, and would like a good man in my stocking, but not one who loves to wear mine.
XXOO
T.
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Interesting question on the boards: What emotions does being a Domme invoke? Here's my reply:
Having a good man kneel, Serve and obey invokes the most pleasurable sensations, even before orgasm.
The Chinese phrase for it is 'you can eat the air', that you feel as if the atmosphere is supercharged and you can literally get power from deep breathing. I know chemically it's the delectable soup of adrenaline, endorphins, dopamine, oxytocin and who knows what else, experienced as sexual arousal, lust, power, and the positive feedback loop of pleasure begetting more and more pleasure, and the knowledge that even after orgasm, there will be more and more pleasure from the good man kneeling before me.
Emotions? Pride in self and the good man before me.
I don't need love, but I need mutual regard and affection, otherwise it's just sex with a machine.
Aggression? Yeah, baby, as I make the first move and direct the beautiful dance.
Excitement of never knowing precisely how the pleasure will unfold, and new pleasures may be discovered, and old ones re-visited in a kaleidoscope of sensation.
Ecstasy: soon!
Have to be empathetic towards each other for the basics: are you too hot/cold/tired/wet/hungry?
Euphoria: you bet!
Gratitude for finding a man whose desires are complementary to my own.
Hope and expectation of even more pleasure, along with curiosity.
Desire? Yes. Ohhh, yes.
The hunger to touch and be touched.
I feel protective of him; he's vulnerable, even untied.
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http://verydemotivational.memebase.com/2011/10/19/demotivational-posters-rule-89/#comments
You've seen it, you can't unsee it!
Canada: power top since 1867: Although I prefer to think of us as strapping on, esp. since our hat Alaska is usually pink.
No wonder they call it 'Lake Superior': that's our come-juices!
"War of 1812! Say our name, say our name! Loonie $1.03! Uhn!
Thanks, America! [slaps Michigan, kisses Oregon] Now clean up the Great Lakes and make us a sandwich." |
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Here's another charity: if you remember the awe-inspiring 8-month fear-the-beard of Canadian flanker Adam Kleeberger, he's shaving it off for two charities: the Christchurch Earthquake Relief Fund and Prostate Cancer. For Canadians, Rick Mercer is going to do it!
donate.rugbycanada.ca/e/Shear_the_Beard
Please give! |
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Poor Warburton: prayin' to the Gods of Rugby: please, not France! Go Wales! Go All Blacks! Go anyone against the Gallic whine-and-cheese-eating surrender monkeys!
Just donated to the Christchurch Earthquake Appeal on the rugby world cup site: it feels so good :-) |
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Oh, where, oh, where has My little dog gone?
Oh, where, oh, where could he be?
Happy Thanksgiving to all the good dogs, where'er ye be . . . |
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A funny story about the 'feeldoe' harness-less strapon.
I was very, *very* excited about trying mine out. The 'bulb' part that inserts in me is quite ponderous, and it took a good man a while to lick me into being dilated enough for it to go in, and even then it felt tight and not in a good way.
However, once in his saddle ;-) it felt so gooo ooood, and I liked the shape and pretty blue colour of it going in and out of him. So, soon, I was starting to come in his ass, and just as the contractions of my orgasm began, i.e., at the most critical moment: it popped right out of me, spurt!!!
Argh! Cockblocked by my own cock!
So, my expensive toy is gathering expensive dust.
I much prefer the strapons with the vibe in the base which I wear like a clit extension. Mmmm, mmmm, good! |
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Time for a little [or big] good news to warm the cockles of our hearts, or as Denis Leary sez, 'at least the sub-cockular regions'.
The #3 best seller on my favourite sextoy site, 'Babeland,' is: a strapon harness! Yay! |
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Cockshots. Don't. Just don't. Guys forget their cocksize is an arbitrary genetic accident: you didn't earn or deserve your cock; a picture of it doesn't tell us how good you are in bed; guys with the biggest dicks tend to be the biggest dicks; and above all, the flasher mentality are all big turn-offs.
Speaking of grade 7 sex. ed class: the external female genitals are the VULVA, not the VAGINA which is the tube from the outside to the cervix.
The only uglier word than 'vulva' is 'penis', so I prefer the words pussy and cock, respectively.
Have you ever watched a man masturbate to completion? The last thing he does is glance down at his cock. Do women do this? I certainly don't, usually because my eyeballs are still rolled back in my head ;-) plus I need a mirror (a relatively recent invention, historically speaking), a third hand, and a cricked neck to see my own genitals.
So my theory on the origin of male phallocentricity: it's right there.
Women have to check internally and externally to figure out what men can at a glance; we have a jetfighter cockpit dashboard of gauges and dials of degrees of desire, lubrication, dilation and elevation and various fluid levels, but we have to check them blindfolded and telepathically.
This is compared to checking a joystick which merely requires a visual or a touch: up, down, responsive? Male genital check complete, over.
Am *I* visual? You bet! I love forearms and torsos, front or back, and of course, a shy smile. Do I love to see my lovers' erections? YOWZA! But what are the odds a stranger has a really beautiful cock, and that he's not showing it just to get his own jollies? Very, very slim.
So: the lessons are: don't show your dick until you're asked. Just because others on this site have whipped theirs out doesn't mean they should, even if you do think yours is the purtiest/longest/thickest. Say vulva or flower, not vagina.
Now write it out a hundred times. |
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Bibliomancy WORKS!
I met a gfriend for coffee and a chat to discuss a disappointment. We wandered into a bookstore, and on a whim, opened a bible and pointed at random: I received this fortune foretelling OSODD and ma petite mort:
Prov 18:20 A man's womb shall be filled with the fruit of his mouth; and the seeds of his lips shall fill him.
Prov 18:21 Death and life be in the workings of his tongue; they that love it, shall eat the fruits thereof.
tres charmant, et peut-etre, vraiment
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Could there *be* a better acronym for an ahrt gallery than VAG?
http://www.cbc.ca/news/arts/story/2011/05/27/vag-surrealism.html
I've always loved surrealist art; Dali's lobster 'phone made me laugh as a kid, but the overt and covert sensuality of surrealism makes me smile as an adult.
Is there a better name for an artist depicting a chained man with a beak mask and a diving suit than Rimmington?
It really is an excellent and large exhibition in Vancouver; Man Ray has always been a favourite, but I didn't know that one of his paramours, Lee Miller [F.], staged many of his shots, and her architectural photos are easily recognisable.
Go!!
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Norwegian Red Cross:
Put your money where your heart is:
http://www.gimedhjertet.no/epages/RodeKors.sf/sec6835c10767/?ViewAction=ViewBBS_DonateForm |
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I have visitors in for Blues Fest, and we took a break to go to the Canadian War Museum.
They have a great exhibition called 'War and Medicine'. Some very wrenching exhibits, including poet/physician John McCrae's original masterpiece 'In Flanders Fields', plus a small exhibit about STD's: Germans were issued condoms with a very Teutonic warning label: 'Destroy After Use'. Meanwhile, Brits were issued with reuseable condoms [blech, besides that they apparently felt like wearing a Wellington boot].  Green gone too far! |
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It's Canada Day today. As with Remembrance Day, I was reminiscing about Canada liberating Holland in WWII, and my liberating a Dutchman's ass.
Sure, I had come in men's asses before, since my very first 'real' boyfriend. Usually it was with me sitting up and him in my lap, griiinding against a compliant ass with my arms around him and my teeth in his neck. Nice!
But ohhh, the Dutchman . . .
I had lost a wonderful veteran slave to long-distance; an American working in Canada had moved to Mexico for his federal job in international law. And now this tall, lean man with pale skin, floppy black hair and blue almond-shaped eyes was not who I was usually attracted to, with the slight Aspergerism of a computer guy, but I was gagging for it after my months of feasting on, and being feasted on, by a well-trained sub man.
The Dutchman proved very talented orally, especially with Queening, but not to the previous highest standard of the veteran.
OSODD means just that, and I expect to have an orgasm before going to bed, and another as I awaken. Even though we'd had a lovely long facefuck to send me off to dreamland, the Dutchman and I awoke early the next morning, and moved to his spare room. He was addicted to having his back rubbed which meant it would end with my flipping and Queening him, his head over the end of the futon, but this time as I straddled him, his ass pushed back and UP against me. His rhythm was perfect. Soon I was inflamed.
I staggered off him, strapped in, squeezed a pool of Astroglide in the small of his back, and so soon with his controlled backwards thrusts, I was right back to that first peak of arousal. I leaned in to dabble the strapon in the pool of lube, grazing my nipples on his back, nipping his neck. He raised his ass, and I entered him smoothly. Usually since he had been an anal virgin until I had 'liberated' his Dutch ass, we would hold position for a few moments to ensure he was accomodating, but within a few beats his motions grew even stronger. In just a couple of dozen strokes, to my amazement, I moaned, felt the waterfall of desire cascade into an imminent climax. I was seeing stars and speaking in tongues. I came uncontrollably hard, and kept coming. I collapsed on his back, and he, good man, kept thrusting back and up, back and up, which somehow kept the perfect pressure on my g-spot, and still groaning and babbling, I came, ejaculating like a bull, in his ass.
And that's how a Dutchman liberated a Canadian.
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Happy Father's Day to all good men; for my dad and bros, who ran up and down the block holding onto the seat of my first two-wheeler, and who let go :-) |
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We interrupt our broadcast of 'The Joy of Nipples' to bring you a bulletin from the last game of the Stanley Cup finals.
Le sigh! How I wish I were a Domina from the series 'Rome', and could just whale the sh*te out of my own personal whipping man, strap up and strapon, and imagine I had a candyass Sedin sweating and begging and above all apologising on the end of it.
One period to go! One can dream.
Back to our regularly scheduled nipples.
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The Joy of Breasts.
How I love nipples, yours, mine and ours.
I feel so sorry for people who ponder why men have them; it means no one has introduced them to their joys. But how I love introducing good men to their own tiny chest-cocks, their shock and groans as I caress, nip, knuckle, snap and rake one nipple; how they pant quizzically as I idly pat the flat beige saucer of the flaccid ignored one, then how they writhe as I lightly, lightly stroke the red, swollen, hyper-aroused one.
I exploded in my first orgasm from a good young man's suckling, and found I am one of the lucky few who can come 'just' from nipple worship. And imagine my surprise when I discovered the same good young man groaning under my ministrations to his own 'first base'.
My taste for long-torso'd men dates from my discovery of how a good tall man, erect, blindfolded, bound supine hand and foot, can yet twist to sweetly suck my nipple as I griiiiiind myself against his heat into a fully-clothed multiple orgasm. And how I love a good sub, on his knees ensuring my nipples are in a constant state of diamond-cutter arousal.
I love Sunday mornings! How I love to be awakened by a good man's smile around my nipple, my arms involuntarily cradling his torso, hands stroking his cheek and hair. How I love watching his eyes rove in primal bliss under their lids, and his straining erection from this first, best, and oldest gratification. And how I love his eager sounds as he gauges their erection, my nipples a barometer to my pleasure, knowing I will soon give his shoulders the divine push to direct his warm lips and tongue between my thighs as waterfalls of sensation stream from my breast to my Pearl of Pleasure. And after my bliss, his chin still drenched, he nuzzles my rosy knotted nipples as they relax, warm, soaked and sated.
Thank the gods for nipplets! |
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An interesting topic on the boards: your dream secret 'sex room':
Chaise longues at various bend-over boyfriend heights
OSODD thrones at various heights, bolted to the floor [I have very strong thigh muscles]
Perfectly padded sex swings at various heights
Walk-in linen closet, fully stocked
Beautiful Rococo cabinet with perfect assortment of strap-ons
Four-poster featherbed built for three, with multiple padded straps at various heights and lengths
Bedside climate controls for including remotes for skylight and patio doors
Adjustable Edwardian ceramic sex sofa, with handholds and toe-holds for extra thrusting and traction.
http://www.chairblog.eu/2009/08/13/the-edward-vii-love-chair/
Horizon pool with underwater benches, handholds [and toeholds!] overlooking skyline, facing west
Fully stocked non-alcoholic bar
Musicians' loge, complete with blindfolded orchestra at the ready
Master bathroom with marble shower [with handholds AND toeholds], bidet, and waterfountain.
And Clive Owen and Henry Rollins stripped, oiled, kneeling and smiling
Happy sigh!
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Went to see the musical 'Spring Awakening' tonight; the first half was surprisingly BDSM-autobiographical, with Duncan Sheik/Melchior as me ;-) |
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After a week of sun, how I love a thundery morning: thunder makes my nipples tighten at the memory of what I do to good men during a storm: the sounds, the wet, the lightshow behind my lids!
“A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread—and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness—
O, Wilderness were Paradise enow!” |
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An interesting question on the boards: why do we love Star Trek?
Roddenberry's world gave us cellphones, floppy disks, desktop networks: amazing. And how would the universe have changed if the network/focus groups had let Majel Barrett have the Spock role? Although Roddenberry must be spinning in his orbit for how they've f'd up with the new movies: women as objects and sacrifices only, a truly frightening steps backwards to entertain the testosterone.
Best of a bad lot of movies: parts of 'First Contact' with the Borg Queen giving damn Data a blowjob, and Picard going all Ahab.
But still the best episodes are the most human:
'City on the Edge of Forever' with the sacrifice of two people for an entire future: brilliant.
Same but less brutal in 'Lessons' ST:TNG, and Picard's single tear as he is being assimilated as Locutus
ST:V: 'Drone', with the hot Ensign Mulcahey as DNA donor
ST:TAS: The gentle but deep regrets of 'Yesteryear'
Not much to like in Deep Space Nine or Enterprise . . . the first too religious and the second too nihilistic: but I did enjoy the E 'Unexpected' where male engineer Tripp gets pregnant ;-)
But the sappy line that resonates the most with me is from a very non-PC episode of the original 'The Paradise Syndrome': 'Each kiss is as the first'. How lucky I was to love a man like that! I can hardly wait to meet the next :-)
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Went to see the Momix dance troupe tonight; I'd seen them years ago in a small venue, so nice to see it as a full show. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=80fs3ntUrAE
Favourites: the blizzard intro, the triceratops/teapot Adam and Eve at ¬2:30, and the whirling dervish at 5:20. But so much better live! |
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I totally measure distance in hours. I also give directions by compass-points: north-northwest, etc.
I will tell you which Oscar- and Nobel winners are Canucks, and that Edison bought the patent for the lightbulb from two poor Canadian inventors.
My Hallowe'en costumes totally fit over parkas, and I don't wear a hat until it's <-25'C.
I offer assistance in Home Hardware.
Anything below the 49th parallel IS south.
And the further I am from home, the more I say 'eh'.
I.
Am.
Canadian. |
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On the boards, a prospective sub thought a Domme having two subs was only about ego.
It's not ego; it's libido.
As my name suggests, I adore Tantra. To grind one's self against two hard, hot men, or first one, then the other over and over again, and to lie back (or stand up!) embraced by one man as another pleasures you, and especially to have two smiling mouths attending one at the same time: BLISS. It became progressively more exciting as the choreography and communication became soundless, and each man knew how best they could continue: and just when I thought I didn't have another orgasm in me, they would exchange brief smiles as they changed places or positions.
And to fall asleep with a man at each breast, or spooning one good man in front and another behind: le sigh!
And then there's the waking up the next morning instantly to a smile between one's thighs and a simultaneous 'Good Morning, Beautiful!' around one's nipple: more bliss.
If any ladies don't enjoy camping, I suggest going with two straight male subs: all the work done for you, then ravishing two good men under the stars.
I wasn't 'out' to anyone except my best friend, yet it didn't look suspicious to be seen en trio in public, just a girlfriend tolerant of her boyfriend's friend always hanging [cough] around.
And of course, to always have one man or the other available for social events as well as sex, so if one was studying or driving his sister to a dance audition, the other would be on my arm or in my bed . . . until the other one hurried back.
Ah, grad school!
Jealousy derailed it when the smarter plain one gave me an ultimatum [never a good idea with a domme!] of marriage or he'd leave, so I left him.
But, oh my, while it lasted!
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Pussy Powers!
Like Plastic Man, it can increase or decrease.
Like Hydro-man, it can liquify a solid.
Like Amazing Man, it can transform substances I touch
Like Magik, it can summon beings.
like Wolverine, it can recovery rapidly,
Like Cyclops, it can absorb one form of energy and convert it into another.
Like Storm, it can make it thunder and rain.
Like Pyro, it can generate heat.
Like Storm, it occasionally queefs.
Like Martian Manhunter, it can increase or decrease the density of an object.
Like Ozymandias, it can bring inanimate objects to life, or free men from petrification.
Like Professor X, it can erase or enhance the memories of others.
Like Nocturne, it can control the body of another.
Like Morpheus, it can project my consciousness into the another.
Like Adrienne Frost, it can relate details about the past or future of an object by being in close contact with it.
Like Nura Nal, it can communicate with the dead,
Like Empath, it can sense emotions of others,
Like Aquaman, it can breathe under water,
Like Superman, it can see in the dark.
Like Nitro, it can explode and reform.
Like Wallflower, it can control pheromones,
Like B'wana Beast, it can temporarily merge two beings into one.
Like Matter-Eater Lad, it can consume any matter without ill effects,
Like Nemesis Kid, it can recognise superpowers,
Like Rogue, it can absorb another powers, and like Sage, it can bestow power,
and best of all,
Like Immortal Man, after la petite morte, I come back to life stronger than ever! |
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Happy Valentine's Day!
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TO all the lovely submen: Happy Valentine's: Be Mine!
...and to be in between two slices of white bread
so NOT pinot noir
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It was -25'C this morning here. Canada is not for wussies!
Thankfully, guys dig the 'iced lash' look, fur-trimmed hood, rosy cheeks [not white with frostbite], warming our chilled lips with kisses, being our living hot-water bottles, and making out on One's fur coat.
And yes, guys, when the windchill whips, even with sawwfft cozy sweaters, our nipples try to dig their way back into our breasts like your shrinkage when your balls elevator up into your abdomen.
 I'm not flashing, I'm shivering!
So, guys, give us a hand [mouth is even better!] to get our nips to thaw out, hmmm? |
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From a lovely sub's journal:
What is submission to me? It is the act of giving. Giving control, concern, and even your well being into someone else's hands. For one to submit, one must be able and willing to trust. Once you can really trust someone, then there are 'no holds barred'. you know that you won't be hurt. No matter how humiliating, no matter how painful, no matter, it is for your and Their own good. Even if it is a situation that you wouldn't consider your 'thing' or something that wouldn't normally turn you on, it doesn't matter. If They are into it. If they are enjoying it. If you can feel their excitement, then you are excited. Similarly if They know that you enjoy something, They will feed off of your excitement if and when the moment comes to explore that direction. (i guess i should include the usual disclaimer here....This does not include any activity that could have an adverse affect on your health, welfare, well being, or legal freedom.... lol) It really is a give and take for me. The likes of which no other relationship can completely explore or understand. |
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The Brit poet Browning was sub.
To Elizabeth Barret, his love,
He wrote, "Never the time and
The place and the man
All together." What a depressing cub!
As a Domme, I love to feel wet,
I love music, great kissing, dark choc'let,
But above all I ken
Good sweet smart sub men
Who amuse Me and make Me ejaculet.
All this talk and poetical flirting
Is amusing and highly diverting.
Sigh, if only there were
A good sub man, not fur,
Whose smiles keep Me laughing and squirting |
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anti-d-ode to a twitchy switch
Christmas hols are almost over, and I had a lovely time,
The family, friends, decor and gifties were sublime.
I"m feeling rather positive My next subbie"s on the way!
So, I logged back in to CO feeling straight but glad and gay
To check for merry msgs, but there were none from him.
So, I pottered "round the CO site still glowing from within.
I wished a Happy New Year to those wishing me the same,
And to one effusive sender switch who wrote I"m quite the dame.
I said "Thank you but no thanks, I need a subbie man,
But best of luck in finding a switch-loving woman."
Yet he fired back with venom, spewing "just another playah",
And words like b***h and f***ing c**t, and that he"ll be my slayer.
So a Very Happy New Year, and all the best to those
Who enjoy my cunning stunts like Dommely doggerel/prose.
I love funny good polite men who are pleasing in my bed,
With wagging tail and sweet big heart and big brains in their head.
I love supportive subbies who adore me well or sick,
Who"d smile and nod and hold my purse whene"er I deck that d*ck.
Happy 2011 to all the lovely men!
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to the tune of John Lennon's "So This is Christmas", and for the good subbies who will laugh at it:
So this is New Year's,
And what I have done
With another year over
And a new one's just begun.
Just after Easter
I had so much fun
With a succulent dear one,
Cute, young, but too dumb.
This summer, a smart one
But a negative nell,
Erotic but grumpy,
I don't miss his odd smell.
This autumn of promise
Became one unkept
When a western prospective
Got cold feet, never met.
So now we have winter,
A season of frost;
Perhaps a smart virgin
Dreams of salad untossed,
A comfortable fire,
A comfortable book,
A comfortable lap,
And a comfortable fook.
And so Happy Christmas,
I hope you had fun,
The new and the dear ones,
The ex- and the young.
A very merry Christmas,
And a Happy New Year,
To prospective good subbies,
And my yet unknown dear.
The wait is over,
If you want it
Waiting over,
Now! ow, ow, ow.
Here, boy! |
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[A hopeful ode to Taking an anal virgin on a frosty night; a roaring fire, a jug of wine, and thou, beneath Me, singing in the wilderness... I'm imagining Darren Criss singing the italic part--]
subbie, IT'S WARM INSIDE
I really can't stay - My subbie, your ass is swell.
I've got to go away - My subbie, I'll warm it well.
This evening has been - I'll put it just a little bit in.
So very nice - I'll rub your ass, and warm you up nice.
My mother will start to worry - Handsome pup, I never hurry,
My father will be pacing the floor - Listen to My strapon-vibe roar!
So, really, I'd better scurry - Handsome pup, I never hurry.
Well, maybe just a half a drink more - Put some music on, while I the Astroglide pour...
The neighbours might think - My subbie, I'll be great up in there!
Say, what's in this drink - Never any roofies in there.
I wish I knew how - My eyes are like starlight,
To break the spell - I'll nip your nape, your hair looks swell.
I ought to say no, no, Mistress - Mind if I move closer?
At least I'm gonna say that I tried - I'd never hurt your insides!
I really can't stay - My subbie, don't hold out!
Ahh, but it's warm inside
C'mon, subbie,
I simply must go - My subbie, it's cold out there,
The answer is no - Ooh, subbie, it's warm in there.
This welcome has been - I'm lucky that you dropped in,
So nice and warm - Look out the window, now just bend!
My sister will be suspicious - man, your mouth tastes delicious!
My brother will be there at the door - Waves of pleasure on a tropical shore--
My maiden aunt's mind is vicious - Gosh, your ass feels delicious!
Well maybe just a half a drink more - Never such an ass- ICE!storm before.
I've got to go home - Oh, subbie, you'll never freeze in here,
Say, where is my coat - My hands past your waist in here,
You've really been grand - you thrill when I touch your . . . hand
But don't you see - We need to do this thang to you
There's bound to be talk tomorrow - Think of my life-long sorrow
At least there will be plenty implied - If this un-impaled orgasm died!
I really can't stay - Get over that hold out!
Ahh, Mistress, it's cold outside!
Can't you stay awhile longer, subbie?
Well..I really shouldn't...all right
This'll make it worth your while, subbie!
Ahh, Mistress, do that again!
--------------------------------------------------------------------
HAPPY NEW YEAR to all good dogs and prospective pups: hurry home!
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We had ice rain this week: walking under trees heavy with ice, making weird tinkly tapping noises as the wind struck the twigs and branches: like the trees on Pennsylvania Avenue in 'The Invasion of the Body Snatchers': spooooky.
But later in the day:
Ice clatters from roofs.
Sudden thaw like Mistress smiles.
Good pup hearts warm, bloom. |
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I came back from grocery shopping this morning to see a neighbour is getting new flooring.
A tall slim man in industrial-strength slightly worn leather knee protectors smiled shyly as I wished him good morning and thought of things I could be doing.
MMmmmmmm, good men in kneepads . . . |
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A thread asked about our own Christmas lists: under my tree, I want a poem, and a sub, [which would be the same thing], and a balance-ball chair.
Here's my poem from last year:
in a Marilyn Monroe 'Happy Birthday, Mr. President' voice:
Santa baby, slip a subbie under the tree for Me;
I've been an awfully good Domme.
Santa baby, I want to hurry up his chimney tonight.
Santa baby, a straight sub, non-convertible, too, eyes blue.
I'll stay Up for him, dear Santa baby, please help Me hurry up his chimney tonight.
Think of all the fun We've missed!
Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed :-(
Next year I could be more than good,
If you'd check off my Christmas list.
Boo doop bee doop,
Santa honey, I wanna peg and really it's not that big...
I've been an Angel all year!
Santa baby, help Me hurry up his chimney tonight.
Santa cutie, there's one thing I really do need,
The deed to an Astroglide mine.
Santa cutie, help Me hurry up his chimney tonight.
Santa baby, I'm filling his stocking with blindfolds and cuffs, and crops,
Sign your 'X' on the line.
Santa baby, help Me hurry up his chimney tonight
I want to trim his Christmas face
With some collar 'decorations' bought at Leather and Lace.
I really do believe in you;
Let's see if you believe in Me!
Boo doop bee doop,
Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing: a cockring
(I don't mean a phone).
Santa baby, help Me hurry up My subbie tonight,
Hurry up his chimney tonight,
Hurry up My subbie tonight.
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Went to see Robert Lepage's take on the Chevalier D'Eon: beautifully staged, fantastic lighting, stunning dancers as the male and female halves of his persona, but Lepage himself played the Chevalier: what a shame! he's no dancer; he should have fed his ego somewhere else.
http://www.rmcompany.co.uk/RMCo_Web_Site/Eonnagata.html
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Saw the Space Station fly over: I waved :-) |
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I went to the Terracotta Warriors exhibit in Toronto this weekend; I had hoped to meet a prospective sub, but le sigh, he begged off rather than on, so I went by myself.
Impressive, and worth a visit, but to my surprise, there were also figurines of female cavalry soldiers, and to my delight, there were two thousand year-old STRAP-ONS and slim DILDOS with series of rings and raised nubs, perfect for g-spots and p-spots.
plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose, non?
And yes, although still by myself, I *did* come like a bull that night, with visions of good, straight military subs dancing on the end of My very particularly shaped strap-on . . . |
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The Good Man's Guide to a Queening G-spot
Every good straight man should strive to give his lover a G-spot orgasm.
Here's how.
Something they rarely put in the manuals is she has to be fully aroused for you to find the spot.
Something else that might not be mentioned is that both of you should have empty bladders and then each drink a couple of glasses of water. you don't want to interrupt her pleasure at a critical time to excuse yourself, and she needs to have confidence that all that can possibly be spurting out of her at high speed and higher volume is her ejaculate, and not prevent her pleasure being concerned about a sensation to pee which is actually the beginning of her G-spot orgasm.
And there's gonna be a LOT of panting, moaning and hyperventilating on both sides, so no one should be dehydrated.
I like strategically-placed acrylic fleece throw rugs better than a mere towel to catch the overflow; larger, softer and more sensual on the ass or knees, too.
So let's fast-forward a half-hour or so, when she is ready to crawl all over you from your kisses, throat nips, breast massages, nipple suckling, whatever she desires. you've gently, slowly removed all her clothing, you've started to pet her pussy, you've growled in her ear that you're going to eat her 'til she comes ALL over you, and you start your slow descent.
And there is her sexual core all nicely laid [hah!] out for you: her lips are swollen, parted, warm and glistening. And still you don't hurry. you tell her how beautiful she looks, and smells. you breathe your warm breath alllll over your buffet, as she tries to pull you in. you surrender gladly, and settle in for some bliss, and gently suck and lick until she's arching, but not bucking.
Suck and lick that clit, suck and lick those inner lips; lick the opening to her vagina, gently french-kiss it, and once she's lovely and wet, walk your lips back up and latch 'em back onto her clit while you dab a well-manicured and snag-free index finger in her juices, and GENTLY slide it under your chin and into her vagina, nail DOWN/fingerpad UP. you gently sweep the pad up/down, around, and side-to-side against the front third of her vagina an inch or two inside, WHILE STILL SUCKING/LICKING THAT CLIT, aiming up and to an angle behind her belly-button. you feel it! like a half-grape of firmer, rough tissue, that collars her urethra [tube from her bladder to the outside], just like your prostate gland.
Congratulations! start stroking, massaging and circling that G-spot, but DON'T STOP YOUR MOUTH-to-CLIT WORK! She may let you know exactly when you've found her G-spot, but some women don't recognise the sensation . . . yet! Keep licking and sucking, in a rhythm you can keep up for awhile, pausing only to tell her how aroused this makes you, how gorgeous she tastes, how she's going to sound when she comes alllllll over you, then latching quickly back on.
Is she coming yet? Yes? Perhaps her clit has retracted, and you feel the divine contractions begin against your smile? Don't stop! Keep going, 'cuz Here She Comes!!!!
Now, massage that g-spot, gently but firmly, in that 'come here' gesture, making appreciative and yummy noises. Some women prefer two fingers in a side-to-side alternating motion, and/or with some light in-but-not-completely-out pumping. Use your words, and encourage her to come ALLLLLLL over you. She'll feel a sensation of bearing down or urinating, but you both need to remember, it's not urine, it's clear, sweet nectar of the gods. Her breathing or moans may change from her usual come-cries into something more primal, deeper, urgent: whatever happens, DON'T STOP!!, otherwise she may clamp up and not be able to let go again.
If all is well, she's spurting alllllllll over you: THAR SHE BLOWS!!!!! she's still coming! Don't stop!! Her contractions may continue for some time; if they're starting to slacken, smile and stroke her anus with a spare smooth-nailed little finger, or spread some of that nectar and nudge your finger gently in and out of her ass in counterpoint to her spasms. If that doesn't increase the intensity of her come-cries and contractions . . . replace your little finger in her ass with your tonguetip and start humming, but just keep your finger on her G-spot and move your other hand over her clit to give her something to thrust against.
Never, ever leave her empty or thrusting against air. NEVER.
As her contractions fade, or once it's finally time to stop: as you know, aftercare is very important; you've come so far, don't harsh her buzz.
If you've done your job well, you should have been facefucked into her immobility. She may have hyperventilated to the point where she doesn't need to draw breath for many seconds; just smile smugly and feel her pulse against your face. If you've rimmed her, try to rinse and spit before you put your tongue anywhere important.
Otherwise, do whatever you do after giving oral pleasure: suavely wipe your dripping chin on her inner thighs, crawl up against her to nestle in her lap or arms [remember, she may be too weak to clasp you, so rearrange her limbs comfortably], kiss her UPPER lips, and tell her how amazing she is and how grateful you are she trusts you with her ultimate pleasure. She may just be able to murmur something incoherent before slipping into the unconsciousness of the well and truly fucked.
Feel free to feel smug, and change the throw rug.
My favourite is to having a Queening G-spot, while I'm hovering over his face and coming, groaning, spasming, alllllll over him, until, exhausted, my legs won't support me, and I turn on my side while he, good dog, stays in the saddle as I continue to spurt against his smiles and hand, both of us purring in bliss and satisfaction.
Female ejaculation.
It's a good thing! |
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Even though he was looking for a prostitute, I felt sorry for a new poster who was being mocked on the boards for wanting to be a 'tampon'.
An anti-monarchist, I have a grudging iota of regard for Prince Charles since his declaration of wanting to be his true love's tampon.
Any good man is the ultimate 'green' tampon: love being licked to long lovely and multiple orgasms any time, especially then. Love to look down at a good man smiling around the iron butterfly on his cheeks and chin. The only tampon that also treats cramps and shortens periods!
Love that scene in Gothic with Gabriel Byrne playing Byron...that's the only mainstream one I know where a man earns his red wings.
I just don't want a tampon that pays me with anything but Service with a smile. And some poetry.
Edited to add:
Oooh! One of my experiences I'd most want to relive is a mmF threesome: as illustrated:
http://www.dlisted.com/node/38467
REAL men who've earned their red wings:
Just needs less Sookie!
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Putting the 'chamber' in ChamberFest:
All live arts performances and some sports arouse me very, very much. I get wet, wide and wild, and sometimes I have to take my good man home [or not quite home] early and Take him. If I were a guy, I'd have to hold my programme in front of my groin and hunch my bow-legg`ed way en route to the car and ravishing him.
So having a chamber music festival in my city has its ups and downs. Alas, so far, too much 20th century music, since cacophony is literally anti-climax, but enough good stuff to feel gooo oood.
Perhaps by the Mozart fest I'll have my next good/great lapdog in My bedchamber.
Maestra, if you please! |
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ADVENTURES OF A DOMME ON DOMME-DAY
Happy Domme Day to all Dommes and good men!
My First Domme-Day:
I lingered over my Saturday morning iced coffee and newspaper, feeling some happy anticipation about Domme Day, hoping to see a purple wristband. I wasn't expecting one at my little neighbourhood place, but One never knows.
I finished my drink, and continued on with my Saturday errands.
After supper, the prowl began. I changed into more dommely clothes: black with a curve-loving red top, and gold lingerie, with black sandals, a red purse, my favourite perfume, and clitoral/pearl jewellery. I looked good, and smelled fabulous.
I love bookstores. No matter how the rest of the evening went, I would enjoy an hour of hunting, whether for books or good men.
Again, no purple wristbands in evidence, but I enjoyed going from stack to stack like a nectar-hungry Monarch.
Where would a good subbie perch, praying for a neck-nip? Where I would be:
Rugby news...
Humour...
Fantasy [hah!]...
Erotica...
Literature...
For some reason, my hand drifted to a shelf as a couple walked by. The book was "Erotic Comics", and it opened by itself to a cockshot [gay porn, at least, so it was well-drawn.]. I laughed at the CO omen, replaced it, and drifted on.
Travel....the couple again...
Classics...the man of the couple, alone. he was just the way I likes 'em: late 20's, slim, clean-cut, adorably nervous, neck veins pulsing. In a word, eminently and imminently bed-able.
I approached, my full lips smiling. I drew his gaze down to his naked wrists.
"Do you know what today is?"
Brief washes of shock and hope shot through his eyes. Eager nod.
"Do you wish you had a purple wristband?"
Tight nods, tight smile, neck veins jetting. his hands clenched, then he visibly relaxed them.
I cocked my head. he blushed prettily, smiled hopefully.
"Are you here with a friend, or a girlfriend"
he glanced guiltily a few rows over.
"Awwww," said I. "bad dog." he bowed his head as I walked away.
I continued browsing, bought some history books and even some stocking stuffers for my next, yet still nameless and faceless, good dog, but no purple bands to be seen. I ended my hunt in the poetry stacks, and made my purchases.
I sat on a patio, reading my treasures, sipping an iced mocha, reflecting on my good day and better dogs.
"Happy Domme Day to all, and to all a good night."
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Some poor person on the boards asked, like a bad Star Trek episode, 'What is love?'
Here's my answer:
When in junior high, we had to read a Christmas story (The Gift of the Magi by O. Henry) about a husband who sold his only valuable possession, his watch, to buy a comb for his wife's hair, and the wife who sold her long hair to buy a watch chain for her husband. As a kid, I thought that was sad and dumb, but after falling in love, I understood it completely.
I was always drawn to the movie Excalibur, and only once I fell in love for the first time did I understand the raging hormones and overwhelming feelings, that if I were a female Uther in love with a male Igraine, I would storm my friend's castle, sacrifice my old retainers and entire army, and risk my own life and limb just to make love with my friend's husband [but on the condition that his kids not watch: eurgh].
So now I know what all the songs, poems and stories are about; they're all true. When it's mutual, the hormones for both lust and contentment are whizzing around both your bloodstreams, the sex is magical, and even after years your logical heart goes pitter-pat when you see your beloved striding down the street toward you: it's heaven on earth. Le sigh!  |
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Why I delete non-subbie msgs:
I've been asked by more than a few annoyed persons why I only read sub male msgs.
1. I'm straight, and looking for real time, and straight sub males only. SO not interested in do-me bottoms, marrieds or switches.
2. What's the dillio with guys posing as 18 yo lesbians?
3. My Solstice resolution is not to open any more msgs that resemble: "You $. You are such a $ % £. I should go over to your house and just $ you ^! *. That's what you really need, ^!*. I've trained my dog to $ *. He'll $ you good. You don't even deserve to %, you &*)%$£*&"£_. "
Only not spelt that well.
Do male doms get death threats? Tsk, tsk, more sexism on CO.
4. Dudes!
My hard limits aren't going to bend because 'you're not really a switch/dom/bi-/transvestite/married just because your profile pic shows you with a wedding ring . . . oh, and you're dressed up like Dorothy and you're blowing the Cowardly Lion while the Tin Man is ^! your *.'
5. Less time reading spam = more time for orgasms!
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Happy Canada Day, eh?
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A Domme asked on the boards if it's worthwhile trying to rehabilitate a 'delusional' sub, e.g., one addicted to vanilla porn.
Another Domme asked to quote My response: here it is:
LETTERWOMAN'S BOTTOM FIVE LIST:
Sadly, no.
You'll spend days/weeks/months educated/re-educating then before you can really get something out of the relationship [like great sex], then he'll do something to cross your particular line and top from the bottom. he got your time, you got your time wasted.
Le sigh!
But you probably knew that already.
'LETTERWOMAN'S Bottom Five Signs':
A good man will learn from his mistakes, a fake sub will repeat his.
A good man will try his best at everything, a fake sub will try to get away with as little as possible.
A good man thinks of what he can do for you, a fake sub thinks of what you can do for him.
This is a good porn-contamination screening question: A good man thinks of what he can wear for you, a fake sub thinks of what you wear for him.
And last and least,
A good man makes no excuses, a fake sub knows every one.
Therrrrrre ya go:
Next! |
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my response to a domme (?) who doesn't like strap-on sex.
[ahem]
Why I like strap-on sex:
#1: I come like a bull
#2 Nobody gets pregnant, him or Me. No bladder infections, no yeast infections.
#3: It feels very natural to Me
#4: Power. Watching a strong man kneel and assume the position? [drool]
#5: Did I mention, I come like a bull?
#6: Strap-ons with a vibe in the base = multiple orgasms
#7: The sounds a good man makes when he's entered
#8: See #1
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There once was a Domme from Bordeaux,
Whose sub spilt some gin on Her dildo.
Always poised, always couth,
She splashed on vermouth,
Then She slipped Her sub a Martino. |
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The forum question was asked: how do You spot a submissive?
It's really sexy every time happens: a stranger overhears a remark I've made or I like something he's said or done, our eyes meet, he holds my gaze and smiles, we approach each other, and pretty soon we're chatting in code then NOT in code and he's telling me of how he's Served before.
It just amazes the few of my 'civilian' friends who know I'm a Domme.
I realise it's probably mutual admiration of attitude, vocabulary and ethics, but I like to think it's like a Jacobsen's gland and I can smell their scent: probably a mix of intelligence, pheremones, kneepads and Astroglide. |
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Forum questioned Canadian regulations which require extra safety provisions at Canadian oil wells which degenerated into a US vs Canuck epithet-sling: My retort:
Our banking system survived your meltdown because our socialist Supreme Court prevented them from amalgamating and borrowing under prime.
WE rule.
Oh, and we burnt your first White House down. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o7jlFZhprU4
We can do it again with our subsidised university educations, socialist healthcare system and maple syrup mines.
We are all your newsanchors and actors because we can pronounce the differences between pan, pen, pin, pon and pun. All our men look like Cory Monteith/Finn from 'Glee' and all our women like Jolene Blalock/T'pol from 'Starship: Enterprise'. you cannot escape.
Now if you yankees could just find the dungeon where Stephen Harper keeps his male sex slaves and topple his fascist government, we'd call it even for our rescuing your hostages from Iran. Wellll, if you bring the Phoenix Coyotes back to Winnipeg, too and do 'something' about Gary Bettman.
Thanks a lot, buddy, eh? |
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A poster on the boards was asking about random orgasms, which she found distressing!
Here's my reply to her request for information from women who experience the same:
As they said about the two men whose houses were overrun with cats: one was bragging, one was complaining.
My random orgasms started when I was 19: exercise, a meeting, sleeping, BLAMMO!! I always think of them with a Fonzie-esque two thumbs up 'Heyyyyyy!'
As you say, they might be light but some are memorable [think old-timey Who-Framed-Roger-Rabbit car horn: aOOOOgah!]
Sure, there is a possibility of being 'outed' in public: I only came close [hah!] once when I fell asleep during a lecture and yes, woke up coming. Had to pretend I was snoring/sneezing: never found out if anyone knew what happened.
For me, it's a sign I need more regular sex and stronger longer orgasms: with a partner for preference, but solo works almost as well.
As to the squirting,, sounds like a g-spot orgasm to me. Heyyyyyyyyyy, me too!
The dipping motion of the cervix and uterine contractions are HIGHLY enjoyable for me during orgasm, and I wouldn't lose them unless medically absolutely necessary.
I've read the dryness of post-menopause can be painful, so right now I'm revelling in my slickness, and so do my partners who call it their 'waterfall': sweet. So, my panties get wet [shrug]: it's a sign of sexual health. I think of all the women starving themselves so much they have no hormones and are dry as a hall of fishbones. Now THAT would be a telethon of hope: "poor [insert starlet's name]'s pussy was rolling in dust bunnies and mummy ashes, but thanks to your generous donations, now it's the waterpark and playground it was meant to be."
Imagine if women's slickness were a new true standard of physical beauty, sexual prowess and bragging rights for women, unlike the false prophets of shoe size, snow writing and penis size for men? Winnahs!
So I'm definitely in the pussy-bragging mansion.
Especially since it's distressing you and/or interfering with your daily life, absolutely talk to your doc for some medical assessment and reassurance, but I hope it turns into a June Cleaver-ectomy 'how emBARRassing!' to a 'Heyyyy! Look what I can do!'
Then you can tell your partner or your Hitachi magic wand you need more regular orgasms: what good man or machine can resist?
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Wow, the Boards have been awash like that scene in the movie 'Sexy Beast' where the man who, yes, once played Gandhi, deliberately p***es on the bathroom carpet.
But fortunately the mods seem to have put the worst perps back under the troll bridge
 
And cute graphics over the 'O' in CM.com, so thanks for the little kindnesses.
Happy St. Paddy's, all! |
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In honour of St. Patrick's Day approaching: a Limerick!
There once was an actor named Bacon,
Who groaned as his cherry was taken
With a crimson strap-on
While dressed as James Bond,
"Dear Mistress! I'm stirred and I'm shakin'!" |
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Happy Valentine's Day to all the good pups.
May We soon all get who we deserve!
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Wow, a herd-thinner from a T-shirt: perhaps I should make this part of the first Exam:
Love preferred but not absolute, but solving for it is . . . |
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Here's something that was written that's more in keeping with My mood:
'Every time a Domme climaxes, an angel gets its wings.'
---------------------------------------------
Stephen McHattie: owner of the most beautiful male mouth in Hollywood,
Peter Weller a close second.
T/F?
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On the msg boards, someone asked an interesting question: 'What turns you off about BDSM?'
Fortunately the list of what I love about BDSM is much, much, longer, deeper, juicier and thicker!
But here's My list of bad messages and messengers:
1. married guys; doms & switches masquerading as subs; and other liars
2. guys only interested in their own
fetish / looking for a pro-domme session and/or who otherwise thinking they can top from the bottom
3. blue-ovary-ers who, after 'wanting to go slow' and you do, chicken out from meeting or kneeling at the last minute as 'it's too intense' [or are probably also #'s 1 and 2]
4. cowardly trolls
5. 1st msg is a half-erect cockshot panning down to old white cotton socks
The trash messages are ¬60 to one. The cleanest one this week: right after I'd happened to have sent money to the Red Cross for Haiti, I received a flame from a guy I'd never contacted that 'Canada sucks'. What kind of Aspberger does that?
Remember: when you're messaging a Domme: her last msg or messenger may have been a flame, a threat, a taunt, a troll, or just a time-waster, so Her eyes may still be rolling as She's opening your msg.
So make yours fabulous! |
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Had been looking for a word to describe My ability to orgasm from breast Worship alone, and could find only 'breastgasm'.
I rolled My eyes, but at least that term brings blissful memories.
Even the plainest man looks beautiful at the breast. Every man licks the nipple, tentative at first, but then suddenly overwhelmed by waves of emotion and memory, locks on.
I love ex-smokers for this very reason: they are wonderful sucklers: perfect rhythm, perfect suction, and intent but content, can suckle for hours.
I love looking down at men, eyes roving under lids as if in REM sleep, dreamily suckling, completely relaxed, their drawing cheek against My soft, warm breast, always choosing the left side, unconsciously craving the heartbeat, their cocks hard as rocks.
Suddenly I twine My hands in their hair, and pull them off.
they whimper, deprived of warmth and comfort, their only desire. Some suckle so hard I have to break the vacuum seal with My finger. they cry, sweat, beg, ANYTHING to regain My nipple. The air cools the saliva on My aureole, and I marvel at the wine-red colour of My diamond-cutter. If the man has been good, in a moment or two I will drag it across his cheek and permit him to latch back on, his whimpers of gratitude and blissful sounds pillowed by My breast.
he quickly finds My rhythm again, and We swim in a sea of primal pleasure for moments or hours until SUDDENLY waterfalls of desire cascade from My breast to My clit. he can tell from My groans, heartbeat, scent, what I require, and knows I need his mouth between My thighs.
his lips smile around My nipple. he kisses it one last time, and begs to Serve. |
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in a Marilyn Monroe 'Happy Birthday, Mr. President' voice:
Santa baby, slip a subbie under the tree
For Me;
I've been an awfully good Domme.
Santa baby, I want to hurry up his chimney tonight.
Santa baby, a straight sub, non-convertible, too,
Eyes blue.
I'll stay Up for him, dear Santa baby, please help Me hurry up his chimney tonight.
Think of all the fun We've missed!
Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed :-(
Next year I could be more than good,
If you'd check off my Christmas list.
Boo doop bee doop,
Santa honey, I wanna peg and really it's not that big...
I've been an Angel all year!
Santa baby, help Me hurry up his chimney tonight.
Santa cutie, there's one thing I really do need,
The deed
To an Astroglide mine.
Santa cutie, help Me hurry up his chimney tonight.
Santa baby, I'm filling his stocking with blindfolds and cuffs,
And crops,
Sign your 'X' on the line.
Santa baby, help Me hurry up his chimney tonight
I want to trim his Christmas face
With some collar 'decorations' bought at Leather and Lace.
I really do believe in you;
Let's see if you believe in Me!
Boo doop bee doop,
Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing: a cockring
(I don't mean a phone).
Santa baby, help Me hurry up My subbie tonight,
Hurry up his chimney tonight,
Hurry up My subbie tonight.
Happy New Year to allll the good subbies |
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Strap-On Orgasms: not just for Christmas.
It's nice to remember at this time of year with lots of beautiful manly men in cologne ads that lots of famous straight guys love to be pegged.
A good man BEGGING to be Taken is almost as hot as a man BEING Taken. Love My strap-on with a vibe at the base, so I orgasm from it easily; Who wouldn't?!?: no pregnancy worries, no cystitis, great any time in My menstrual cycle, and a very different yet deeply Dommely carnal sensation to feel One's hips flex and drive rhythmically, powerfully and inexorably towards One's groaning, draining, mind-blowing Climax.
The best positions differ with the man; him on his side with his top leg bent up and Me spooning behind him, him bending over a bed or chaise longue or with one leg up and Me standing behind and draped over him, classic doggy-style with his head down/ass up, or for a long lean flexible pup, on his back, his arms bound, ankles in a leg spreader and the bar locked to the headboard. Bullseye.
And oh, the exquisite sounds and gasps he makes when I enter him, when I stroke his prostate inside and out, when he knows I'm close to climaxing and he begs Me to fuck his ass. I like whatever position allows me to grasp his shoulders or arms or biceps straps and REALLY...
Uh, got to go. It's getting awfully warm in here . . . ;-) |
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from a very thoughtful Brit subbie: top[ping from the bottom] ten bad-dog traits:
1. Trying to top from the bottom.
2. Being more interested in your fetishes then your Mistress.
3. Not calling or responding ASAP.
4. Not making sure she knows she matters and is a priority to you.
5. Not devoting yourself to making her life enhanced by having you as her pet.
6. Not being honest.
7. Not showing respect at all times.
8. Not being appreciative that she chose you for a pet.
9. Mistaking politeness for weakness.
10. Assuming she will be like your last Mistress
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compiled by another Domme, Akasha:
Chastity Tips for Subs and Slaves
1. Show her how helpless you are – surrender and desperation are HOT!
Reactions are a huge thing for me. I like to be aware of how my dominance is affecting a man. I know chastity has a BIG effect, so I expect to see it in his eyes, receive a lot more attention in the way of communication (journals, letters), and see evidence of his increased willingness to serve and desperation to cum.
Instead of thinking about how it used to be when you could touch yourself and cum at will, use this time to ratchet up your physical devotion – you WILL be expected to still perform sexually in many cases, so without the use of your cock this means a lot of oral worship and face sitting, giving long massages, and other acts your lady may enjoy.
Channel your frustrations into service
So what do you do with all that unused sexual energy and built up stress? Instead of sulking or whining, channel your energy into service (how can you make your lady’s day better right now, today, this moment?), devotion, attentiveness and action. If you are unable to serve as much as you need to burn off that energy, turn to exercise, housework or yoga. Whatever you do, don’t let it go to waste.
Your hygiene is your private business
Sure, she owns your cock, but that doesn’t mean she is responsible for the care, cleaning and hygiene of that property she so proudly owns. There are a lot of issues related to cleaning, avoiding of chafing, and daily comfort to be addressed. We ladies have never personally owned a cock (well, besides our lovely latex strapon friends), and we are not intimately familiar with your plumbing and other idiosyncrasies.
And don't bother complaining to Women who wear tampons and ride pads one week out of every four!
your keyholder has a vested interest in your well-being. However, you should be the one to take the initiative and do the research. Read what other men write in their blogs about their experiences and peruse some of the sites that give tips on hygiene and comfort. TGet advice on this from other men and Dommes who have been through the same scenario and know what you are feeling.
While we ladies DO love hearing about the discomfort related to denial, we’re not keen on hearing about discomfort related to improper wear or poor hygiene. Get this stuff taken care of so we can focus on the uncomfortable parts of your chastity that make us wet – namely, the heaviness in your balls related to the desperate need to cum!
Whimpering, not whining!
Clearly one of the huge turn-ons for a keyholder is how desperate her chastity victim is. But subs need to be keenly aware of the difference between whining/complaining and other forms of begging – namely, whimpering. Femdommes hate whining while most are very excited by various forms of pleading or desperation.
What is whining? It’s the act of just asking pathetically like a child for release from something you probably begged for deliciously at the onset. Best way to know you are going down this path? She tells you, ”Stop whining!” or just ignores your behavior.
Don’t sulk
Many men become withdrawn, confused and even go through emotional swings similar to grieving, After all, subs in chastity are grieving the loss of control over their own sexuality and pleasure, and the comforting, pleasurable and routine ritual of masturbation. Some men use masturbation not only for sexual jollies, but for stress relief, sleep aid and relaxation. So not only are you having a sexual pleasure removed, in some cases you are losing a coping mechanism.
As you go through these emotions, don’t sulk. Once again, realize that while your Keyholder is interested in the sexy and tasty effects your denial is having on your sexuality and attitude, she is not interested in your pouting and feeling sorry for yourself. Channel these emotions into journalling or service. Recognize and accept these feelings of loss, but don’t let them turn into the wet blanket over your chastity experience.
Focus on the big picture, even when it’s not “fun” any more
Most subs go through a moment in chastity when they realize it isn’t “fun” like they thought it would be. For some subs, this is about 10 minutes after the lock is in place. For other subs, it’s a few days later. In fantasy, when you imagined chastity, it was just the good stuff. you didn’t think about the daily drain of the device wearing, the discomfort, the sleepless nights, the painfully uncomfortable early mornings, and the feeling like you aren’t getting enough attention or the right kind of attention.
When you are going through flashes of fleeting desperation, hopelessness and frustration, know that these are momentary moods that do pass and that the greater process – your surrender and devotion – are more important than the feeling of the current moment. Use this time to bond with your keyholder by sharing your thoughts about it and what it is doing to you emotionally.
Have a safety net
Figure out in advance what your safety net is, in case you have to remove your device either because you can’t handle it or because you have a safety issue. If you have to end your chastity, do so with honesty and integrity. It’s only through trust that real chastity works, even when you DO have a device keeping you honest (most of the time). If you run into trouble because of the gym, have to go do the doctor, or honestly cannot sleep and it’s affecting your state of mind and ultimately your job or relationships, some balance must be struck. It’s not failure to have to rethink your chastity plan; it’s failure if you lie about it.
Realize that all men are different
you may last 1 night or you may last 100 days. you may require milking or other types of relief, or you may just breeze by in between moments of temporary horny insanity. The moments of desperation may be short and intense followed by serenity, or may be non-stop insanity. All men react differently, with some men able to adapt quickly to chastity after a tough few days, while others do fine at the start then melt down on Friday night. There’s no hard (hah!) and fast rule, but recognize that you will probably go through a large range of emotions, from resentment to anger to sadness to peacefulness and appreciation – just not at a predictable time. There’s no set standard you need to follow – other than honesty and transparency with your keyholder.
At the end of the day, it’s about PLEASURE and FUN. Well, HERS anyway…
Chastity isn’t about you (even though it makes it impossible to not think about your sexual needs). In your fantasies, it was all about you and your cock and the impact of the denial. In real life, it’s about her, and what your chastity does for her and how it makes Her feel. If you are selfish, the chastity experiment will fail. If you are ready to really surrender, it can be an intense and exciting ride. But remember, most of all, it’s not about you anymore: your cock is no longer yours.
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I *love* word puzzles, and received an excellent one:
Genesis 16:09
Change one word, and perfect! |
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from another Domme, Mistress Paige:
"How To Improve Your Chances At Getting A Response From A Domme"
"1. For the love of all things tight and shiny, STOP with the generic copy/pasted mails!
Seriously, if you are too lazy to type a thoughtful question or two, notice that the Mistress you are mailing your missive of burning need wants you for a relationship or 24/7 but you live half a world away, or don't even get her name correct, you are NOT anywhere near ready for that kind of commitment. (Bonus boo from the peanut gallery if you have the audacity to lie when caught)
"2. One-liners like "hi" or "hey" are not even polite enough for chat rooms, let alone emails, especially on a site as prone to bugs as this one.
"3. Questions are good....questions already answered in her profile (interests, what sort of relationship she seeks).....baaaad.
"4. If you have a good profile, keep your message short, simple, intriguing and polite. "I see we both have interests in ~activity~ on a ~time span~ and live in ~place~. I really liked ~this part~ of your profile and ~this part~ of what you posted. ~A few of your qualifications~. ~Interesting fact that would intrigue her~. Would you care to chat further? Thank you." is FAR more likely to get a response that a 12 paragraph all-caps missive about your unappreciative previous Dommes who weren't 'real' Dommes, or an castration fantasy with attached unsolicited picture of your genitals. (In fact those latter two options will make you seem mentally/emotionally unstable or like a creepy lech looking for spank-bank material...highly unattractive).
If you have a bad profile...don't. Just *don't*.
"5. Have a passing acquaintance with reality:
If you truly want to be of service to a Domme, particularly in a longterm/relationship context, be aware that it won't all be an orgy of kinky boots and caning your ass 24/7. Everyone has vanilla needs and lives that also need tending, and most Dommes are more into receiving pleasure, both sexual and vanilla, than dishing out pain. Expecting your Domme to strut around in sexy fetish gear all day is not submission, it's bad porno. And expecting to be 'forced' to also service her boyfriend is bad gay porno!" |
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A would-be sub sent me an interesting 20 questions sufficiently amusing to complete:
01. How long have you been into the lifestyle? Since I was 18
02. Are you seeking a live-in 24/7 relationship? Vanilla 28/28, D/s behind closed doors.
03. Do you seek someone who is submissive or more slave in nature? sub to Me.
04. Have you ever owned a submissive/slave? Boo ya.
05. Do you demand total submission? I expect someone to voice their opinion if the situation is critical [Mistress, I do believe the train is leaving at 9:45, and not 19:45 as Her Delectableness just stated].
06. Do you require the submissive be big on talking or is a listener acceptable? I require someone interesting/amusing/sexy.
07. Have you ever submitted for learning purposes or just because you have a submissive side? FUCK, NO!! NOW, DROP AND GIVE ME PLENTY!
08.Do you desire more than one submissive to play with or already have another? Enjoyed, would try again with straight, suitable and compatible men. Every woman should experience two good straight men; another reason you can tell the movie 'Watchmen' was written by a dude!
09.What level of pain intensity do you desire from your submissive? I'm MUCH more about pleasure, but also something like a Strapon that leaves a certain .. . sensitivity . . . for several days afterwards, as well as memory. And I love an athletic sub telling Me the next day that he was a bit stiff ;-) since he'd never used those particular muscles quite like that before!
10. As a Dom do you allow the submissive say in what they are ready to partake in? Appropriate suggestions may be entertained, boundaries pushed as appropriated, hard limits are respected.
11. Are safewords allowed and respected even well into the consentual Dom/sub relationship? Always.
12. Do you often prefer to push the submissive pass their comfort level of play? Sometimes, within hard limits.
13. Do you have a problem attending the local club for play? Rephrase that respectfully, and I might reply.
14. What is your favorite item to use on a submissive? Depends on My mood: strap-on, crop with tiny beads for temperature play, nipple vacuums.
15. Do you own your own toys, or do you require the submissive to supply their own? Toys are to be new. Lucky pups get presents. A man who builds his own dungeon and benches to bend himself over would be piquant.
16. Name 4 items found within your BDSM bag? Say *please*. Door wrist-restraints, cockring and leash, nipple teasers, slapper. you're welcome.
17. Do you clean the items after each use, even if their leather? of course, they do. Funny how you never see/read about that step ;-)
18. On a scale of 0 to 100, what percentage would you rate your interest in BDSM vs Sex? I see them as entwined and a continuum, since a good sub Serving makes Me aroused, and I love to see a sub aroused by Serving.
19. Do you require the submissive to be sexual with you, others males or other females? Me. Only. Ever.
20. Do you see the sexual needs within the Dom/sub relationship being one sided? Good subs derive a lot of pleasure from Serving, and are given orgasms as rewards. I require a responsive, skin-hungry, sensuous man.
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| Age: 37 |
| Nearby,
Germany |
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