Femdomme Society University Tell All (Part 2)

Following along without the back story? Femdomme Society is a website promising that, in their member base of 57302 active users, it’ll help connect F/m leaning people. They also allow F/f oriented femsubs in signup, but of course none of the material is oriented towards them. Catch up with earlier posts here and here.

Out of sheer mean spirited bloody mindedness, I will continue to review their “secrets” of female dominance. At this point, it’s clear professor Sutton is not the only person teaching at Femdom University. We move from Sophomores being indoctrinated to the website’s practical suggestions in establishing dominance in your relationship.

According to them, you can spot submissiveness waiting to come out by such things as…

2. Sneaks glances at Your body, and quickly turns away when caught looking;
3. Shows a deeper interest in Your hair, make up, and clothes;

And

8. Loves to give oral sex, and strives to be sensual and gentle during love making.

Of course for people like me who get bupkiss out of mouth-on-vulva, no allowances are made. Because only rude, brutal men want firm hard sex. But never fear, the website is selling the idea that all guys have a submissive waiting to come out if only women used their sexual power. Or, in their own words:

 There are many ways to create the “desire to submit”. Quite often men have not touched upon their submissive side due to fear. They find it safer to keep up a “macho” front, thus protecting themselves from any teasing or hazing from their male friends. In order to coax the submissive side out of them, give them a safe place to let their guard down, which is the reason for going slowly. Later, once You are inside his head, You can begin to break him down. [My bolding]

Of course when it comes to coaxing their submissiveness out, their solution to this is that all men are entranced by high heels and lingerie, with a very poor attempt to make the distinction between being sexually desired and having a reliable source of power. To be honest, high heel fetishes seem pretty variable and lingerie taste ranges from nothing or no interest to the highly specific- you never can tell if they guy is going to be gaga over boyshorts or fail to remember the colour of your bra despite wrestling with the clasp for ten minutes the last time you had sex.

But, according to them the best ways to grow dominance in your relationship include dressing sexy but a very particular kind of sexy, fondling him while he’s naked and asking him about female family members, especially his mother (carefully and elaborately detailed script included) and then taking him shopping and… making him carry your purchase of PANTIES! Oooooo, daring!

Why would I spend time with a man so horrified of femaleness that carrying a bag of lingerie takes coaxing?

Yeah, the much vaunted Femdom Society secrets involve taking the poor bastard to the mall with sexual bribery. But of course don’t you dare want a big cock inside you- remember consummating your lust spoils dominance. Instead:

Flirt , arouse, but never let the relationship progress to sexual interaction. This is the time when You are establishing how much effort this man must spend in expectation of being with You.

So it’s okay according to them to rub your feet against a man’s groin, but of course you understand that your urge to dominate is not being y’know, so fucking wet and lust filled you want to slam him into walls and rape him. But remember girls, all that sexy lingerie doesn’t have to appeal to you either- when you have him hooked you may drop the act and wear whatever you like. But until he submits, keep your self locked up in a sexy thong.

Apparently, once aroused, the male victim of this scheme will gradually come to associate serving you in small, menial things (not because he wants to, but because you give him a hand job every time you want coffee). The pay of course is that you get the poor bastard to list things he doesn’t want to do and then…

[…]there will be a point where Your pet appears to be more submissive than ever before. It is at this point that You begin to use the “would never do” list. At his most submissive moment, tell him how it would please you if he did a certain thing he said he would never do.

Note that this was not discussed in the context of soft limits, but rather as part of the sales packaged the with significant enough manipulation that your victim of choice will do everything you say. At this point I am reminded nothing so much as the sad, amateurishly written PUA (pick up artist) guides on seducing the female, that flatters the shit out of the reader while completely dehumanizing the opposite sex as a means to an end. I am also struck by the same aura of vulnerability. All this “power” is built on making yourself into a sexual object and running an elaborate deception just to get to a place also reached by adult negotiation.

We’ll pick up again in the next post to look at the rest of Junior and Senior and uncover the financial scam at their heart.

More Gems From Femdom Society (Part 1)

So I thought that before I deleted my account at Femdom Society I’d check out their much vaunted “University”. Because hey, they might charge you almost eight bucks a month, but that part’s free! Let’s take a peek at Freshman class #1 for doms….

Before We start, We want You to know Our system is complex in structure. Submissive’s do not have access to this section of the website. It is exclusive to Dominant Women. Use the information in these classes to Your advantage. As a Superior Woman, however, You do have access to both sub and sissy Universities.

Ooooookay…

Let us get started! This Lesson covers some basic facts that may surprise You. Facts which prove not only that Women are superior to men, but that Our current society is in the midst of a rapid power exchange. In the next few years We will see a complete turn around in Women’s and men’s roles.

Huh? Okay. Then they get into a history of modern progress towards gender equality dressed as proof of female superiority. And then we get to the meat of this wank fest that wishes it were a conspiracy:

The power exchange between dominant Women and submissive men is not founded solely on sexual basis. In reality, it is grounded on the dynamics of who holds the power. The purpose of this Society is to help educate Women on how to overcome the misconceptions, how to over-step the long looks from those in society who do not embrace these changes, and to help You blossom within that which is the natural order of events. Those who embrace this Society are dedicated to the development of a complete Society in which men are merely servants to the every need and desire of Women. The level at which You embrace this is entirely up to You, but from those of Us further down the path, please know the more You learn, the more dynamic and exciting Your life will become. The more You implement these practices into Your relationship, the deeper the bond between You and Your man will be, and there will be a day when You look back and realize that Your relationship is a great deal more secure, a great deal more satisfying, and a great deal more honest than it ever used to be.

Shut up. Are you fucking kidding me? World domination through cam shows and shitty profile beauty pageant competitions. Well, nobody would suspect! Just an innocent front of female sexual objectification in the name of the movement!

And then, onto the next freshman class, with a list of helpful terms. We learn things like:

Branding: A higher level of domination, it usually revolves around a ceremony in which a slave is branded with the mark of a Domme.

Feminization: Taking a cross dressing desire to a new level by forcing a slave to accept Female traits. This can include anything from eyebrow plucking to breast implants. Very common in long term relationships.

Whoever wrote this has no fucking clue what they’re doing. There’s no particular logic in what they do and don’t list, and while I do from personal experience it’s hard to be completely inclusive, the general idea that things are part of a natural order and not more of a buffet pervades the rest of the list.

Although Hollywood tends to feed off the sexual aspects of Female Domination […]

Not that this website is doing any differently now… It’s a confused mess. They follow with a bunch of old news articles about an increase of stay at home husbands, an article about a couple who like animal training and something about female leadership. Keep in mind that up until this point they’ve been banging a drum about female power and supremacy coming from the feminine.

A man wants to worship his Woman not just as an individual, but also for the Feminine power that She has to create life in Her body. That alone makes every Woman worthy of respect.

Urrrrrgh, because reducing women to their reproductive organs isn’t sexist…

If You want to succeed at this lifestyle, there is something extremely important to keep in mind: Your man WANTS You to be in charge. That means You have the power to create the rules and guidelines that he so craves for You to set. That means You can include the things You are comfortable with and exclude everything else, no matter what he says he wants.

Oh Sweet Jesus. People are paying money for this shit. Who wrote this… let’s see…

We want to thank Ms. Elise Sutton for Her input. A great deal of the information You have just read is from the ongoing wisdom of Ms. Sutton. 

AAAAAAAAUGH!!!

Femdom Society you are a fucking cancer on female dominance.

Friday Femdom Fiction: Humiliate me?

She couldn’t help it, her face cracked into a big happy grin, mouth twitching until the smile opened her eyes wide and girlish giggles escaped her mouth.

“No…” he put his forehead against the edge of the bed, resting it there in exasperation, as his arms were bound behind his back.

“Alright, alright, let me try again.” She took a deep breath an composed herself, opened her mouth and the merriment bubbled up. “Shit!”

He huffed a sigh. “Ma’am, you seem to have a problem saying it.”

“It’s just…” She looked down at his muscular body. “It’s silly.”

“You didn’t have any problem with this in chat, this morning.”

“Alright, you say it,” she folded her arms and he caught the tiny, seeking edge in her voice. These moods never meant anything other than a torrent of lust fueled abuse, raising his dashed hopes of where the evening was going.

“I’m a little bitch.” He felt a small sting of embarrassment, coming out in a small voice.

“See, not so easy, is it?” Her smile was a smirk now. “Tell me again and look me in the eye.”

“I’m a little bitch.” The embarrassment was warming, and stirred his cock.

“That wasn’t all. Tell me more, slut.”

“I’m a sissy, pathetic bitch who deserves to be spat on and… degraded and…”

“Louder!”

“I’m a little bitch! I deserve to be spat on and degraded and fucked!”

“And?”

“I’m a little bitch and I want you to show me just how much that’s true. I want you to… to use me, and hurt me and piss on me.” His cock was now pointing a steady right angle from his body, and he saw she was doing the hungry-writhe dance of horniness. It was like a puzzle piece clicking into place, when they fell, together, into a connection that motivated her to crouch down and grab his throat.

“Pathetic little bitch,” she hissed, inches from his face. “You should be lucky if I reward you with that. Get over the bed!”

As he belly flopped over the edge of the double bed, grinding himself against the stacked mattress and box spring, she turned and stooped. There was a jingle and swoosh as she found his discarded pants and took the belt out of the loops.

“Unh!” He debated what she’d do if he tried to roll out of the way, but the belt cracked down across his bare thighs, finishing his horny noises with a high pitched yelp.

She gave him a few more welting stripes before she paused again. “Tell me what you are!”

“I’m a pathetic little bitch and…auugh!” The belt cracked down extra hard.

“Say it like you mean it. Make be believe you’re the nothing that you say you are.”

“I’m a pathetic little bitch. I want to be used and treated just how I deserve. I want to be shown that I’m a nasty, piss drinking…” The admission came out of him. “A nasty, piss drinking, disgusting little bitch.”

She grabbed him then and flipped him over, so they were nose to nose. She looked at him with loving malice for one long moment before rearing back and a wad of spittle landed on his cheek. “Drink my piss, hm? That’s a new one.”

“That’s right, ma’am. I want to drink down your piss.” He whimpered when she didn’t say anything else.

Her face unreadable, she crossed her arms and looked at the shiny place where her spit had landed. His eyes were large and vulnerable, hopeful yet fearing his mouth had carried him too far. Humiliated.

Then the smile returned. “That’s right, you little bitch,” she said the words that had, before, been too silly for her to get out. “You’re a thing. You’re nothing but a hole to fuck, a body to torture and a disgusting, submissive pervert who begs for more no matter what you do.”

“Ma’am?”

“And you’re going to be nothing but my piss lapping little slut too.”

It’s late, but live! Enjoy!

Me & My Sexual Assaults

Under Canadian law I’ve actually been sexually assaulted several times.

1) In middle school, a male peer decided my ass provided too great a temptation and held onto and forcibly humped me. I reacted by bursting into tears and never really understood why I wanted to make it a secret until becoming an adult.

2) My ass again provided too much temptation to my deranged grandmother. Groped. I generally see this as part of her ickiness.

3) And again, while bending to look at a counter of pastries. Difficult because stealth gropes can be brushed off as an accident. The worst part was having the conviction that I had been groped by no proof other than feeling it.

4) At a college dance, I say hello to a stranger, who proceeded to grab my ass. I forcibly remove his hand and get told “Don’t be an asshole!”

5) In the scene, a well known rope top decided that since in his demonstration of pressure points that since none of the other ones worked on me, he’d demonstrate on my nipple. He teaches an anti-rape class. I was… not happy. This was one of several incidents.

6) A male in the scene, as part of a hug, put a hand on my ass, justifying it that I’d been at a nude beach with him. Hand removed. Stammering self justifications from a man who was a literal peer of my father.

7) While on the metro, I smiled at a young man with  a passing resemblance to my gentleman. He proceeded to bump his crotch against me.

Rape victim, no. Nobody has ever forcibly penetrated me. I don’t like the term “survivor” either, which is supposed to make me feel empowered, but ends up making it feel like a bigger deal than it was, as my life was never threatened. It had an impact on me. I was victimized repeatedly by people who could not respect my bodily autonomy. But I never was torn or bled. It just… is tiring.

Up until very recently I didn’t see it as more than frustrating human social interactions, an assault the way that poking is an assault that you are unlikely to get a conviction on. It was actually weirdly embarrassing when I finally looked up what was against the law in Canada, to realize that I was actually sitting on a pile of legal violations. Like when you discover that the person you thought hated you had your back all along. And yet I feel, for some reason, like if I tell people this was sexual assault it’ll somehow be used as proof of how unreasonable I am for not wanting to get my body touched in a sexual fashion.

If I had a purpose in talking about this it is because the fact that I feel I should keep it to myself if the biggest stain these assaults have. Seriously, if people walked on my feet deliberately I’d be twittering that shit in rant caps. But it’s taken me this long to actually, at 27, say “Hi, I’m Pearl and these are the ways people sexually assaulted me.”

Hi, I’m Pearl. I’m legally a sexual assault victim.

Hi, I’m Pearl. Men and one woman has touched my body sexually, without my consent.

Hi, I’m Pearl. I can’t enjoy my buttocks as much as I’d like because other people treated it like collective property.

Hi, I’m Pearl. I have so little trust in society that I brushed off twisting my nipple as a “miscommunication” and took for granted he should have thought he had consent.

Hi, I’m Pearl. I don’t smile at strange men anymore as easily because I can’t tell when one is going to rub up against me.

Hi, I’m Pearl. And a part of me thinks that by writing this people won’t take me and my feelings seriously.

Hi, I’m Pearl. I know damn well I’m not alone.

 

Website Review: Femmedom Society

This is a bad website.

From the lurid pictures of sexy ladies plastered all over it, to the clunky web design and marketing copy designed to prey on lonely men, Femmedomme Society is everything that’s wrong with femdom. It also really goes back to my point that professional spaces marginalize non-professional femdoms. It’s like trying to date in the red light district- not a matter of competition as much as the fact that people with the expectations that come from having to pay make shitty “free” submissive boyfriends. I’m not saying visiting a sex worker ruins men or that sex workers are bad, but it makes a space that is actively hostile to non-pro when you try to jam all femdoms together.

And this website can’t really decide if I’m the product or the target market. Joining femmedom society is free, but the silver account is severely hamstrung and you’re encouraged to get a gold membership. Without one you can receive (but not respond to) messages and participate in the chat website. This is where the sneaky starts- accounts appear to default to saying you are a “gold” member regardless of your actual status. This might explain the trickle of messages from guys welcoming me.

Be that as it may, it’s not really doing much to sell to me, but using me as the product to attract men. It makes a big deal about the number of femdoms who have accounts there (GIRLS! GIRLS! GIRLS!) but neglects the fact that you basically can’t do anything with the site as far as meeting people unless you’re both paying. And it plasters sexy lady pics from here and yon- Guys, I’m not lesbian enough to find this interesting. Can we stop trying to sell kink with Hawt Ladies? It’s alienating, and in this sort of context it is pretty transparent I’m the product being sold.

The chat, incidentally, is built around cam shows. Again, not really a ‘lifestyle’ friendly set up unless that lifestyle person is an exhibitionist. This is another place the cracks start showing- it’s a vehicle for reaching customers more than a place for femdoms in general.

To their deference, FS tries their best to be useful by offering femmedom university, a series of BDSM 101 articles, complete with the ability to allow the subs participating to let the doms track their progress. For some reason they also feel the need to tell me that I will get “secret” information on making people submit, not shared with submissives… Urgh, no thanks.

Are you pedaling fiction or good advice, FS? This inability to actually see beyond the dynamic to the consenting adults doing it is another part of this shit that furthers problems. Seriously, it’s really hard on newbies when you match sensible information about limits and safewords with the idea that you are failing to be your sexual orientation if you don’t have the magic ability to make men do what you want.

As an aside, I think this is one of the hardest parts of kink- that everyone’s needs and desires can be radically different, and yet there’s the idea that submission is something you can unlock that way and it’s your measure of worth as a dom. The reality is that it’s like measuring your worth by making people horny or in love. It can be good to be able to work with someone you love to nurture their submissive feelings, but it’s like falling in love. Sometimes it’s not about you, but the other person.

FS also doesn’t miss a chance to try to suck money from submissive men. From trying to get them to buy the (allegedly gold member but not) women Platinum Memberships ($150 to get a girl’s attention? Kaching!) to explicitly telling them that dominant women would recognize their dedication if they bought a gold membership, there is the general problem of requiring submissives to part with cash to show their seriousness.

Sleazy, unethical and exploitive. And really crappy web design that looks years out of date despite a high monthly membership fee.  No thanks!

~Edit~

What had originally intended to be a one off review turned into a multi-post adventure, culminating in discovering that Femmedomme Society has something a bit more sinister than bad porn lurking in their closet.

Follow along, pilgrim!

 

Review: Taste by Beth Taylor

It’s actually hard to give a good effort a bad review. I think Beth Taylor didn’t excactly rob me for $3.01, and I wouldn’t be gauche enough to demand a refund. However, I just couldn’t get into Taste: An Aristocratic Femdom Love Story by Beth Taylor,  mostly because of the writing style.

I tried, and I thought about not reviewing it at all. Maybe I simply didn’t give the characters a chance? It focuses on the love lives of a bunch of upper class British people with titles. It’s supposed to be about duty, but the duty element doesn’t really leap out while people are having impassioned email spats about their sexual desires and are supposed to be over educated and leading jet set lives.

Taste probably got off to a bad start by using the format of an email discussion, at least for me, I feel like I’m reading a chat log of someone’s RPG and I’m not really feeling it. I couldn’t make myself care about any of the characters or take their problems seriously. Here’s an excerpt of what I mean:

As he continues to lightly rub each of her feet, he glances over to see that smile of hers as she Skypes with her eldest brother – then smiles automatically in response, almost against his will, given his mood.

[Steph]: He’s watching The Masters wrap up.

[James]: Ask him if he’s finally gaining some sporting affection for Australia. If not, he should do!

[Steph, still smiling]: He’s in a quiet mood, Jamesy; not a great time for a piss-take, but when he finally tells me what’s on his mind, I’ll surely tease him afterwards for you.

[James]: Goodgood. Must dash, can’t wait to see you next week, it’s been too long.

Taylor, Beth (2013-05-05). Taste: An Aristocratic Femdom Love Story (Kindle Locations 455-464). . Kindle Edition.

Maybe some of the challenge was also that people were written as reacting to Steph’s random dominance, but I had no reason to find her as entrancing as the rest of the characters seemed to. Purely as a study of inter personal relationships and maudlin concepts, it’s not *that* bad. But while I wouldn’t burn this book, I wouldn’t advise you to buy it either. This is not “Twilight” bad, this is in the realm of being bad enough to be ignored but not bad enough to be fair or kind to pick on it.

Category: Short Ebook
Rating: o (1/5)
How I got it: Bought it
TL;DR: Overly creative formatting and characters I couldn’t get into. Scenarios had hints of being hot, but it needs more than a few sexy ideas to be worth it.

Friday Femdom Fiction: Strapped On

There were three loops for the harness, on for each leg, and one strap that settled in tight over her butt, hugging just over the real roundness of her ass. She admired the rig, although it was more functional than pretty, black, plastic buckles and nylon straps like a backpack. But the large red dildo slotted into the ring nicely, jutting out from her crotch.

Of course he was on his knees, cushion as a conceit on the hardwood plank. His own penis was doing an indecisive climb, awake enough to indicate its interest but also a little coy, like it was unsure if this was the right moment to do more than stretch itself a little.

“This is going inside you in a few minutes, and how much lube I think you deserve is entirely dependent on how much of a little slut your prepared to admit to be,” she lied as convincingly as she could. “So you better suck it good, bitch…”

He was eager, moving forward, mouth reaching, to take the head into his mouth. Un-lubed and uncontaminated, the slightly bulbed tip brushed against his lips before passing through them. She liked his mouth, very male with the faint darkness in the skin above his lips, but full and livid pink, fuckable. When they kissed she almost always wanted to hurt him, letting her teeth close on the swollen tenderness of his lower lip or mashing her mouth into his. She’s read about that in old romance novels of “bruising kisses” and never understood until the first time he’d smiled at her and she wanted to turn that soft mouth into a vulnerable curl of pain.

He was straight but he’d seen enough cocks sucked to improvise. Her strap on was in many ways worse than a real penis, too hard to slip down the throat easily, with none of the give and yield, but she liked it that way, liked that when she took the back of his head and pushed she could make him gag. He whimpered and drooled, and, after a while she grudging relented.

“Go get the towels, you little whore.” Another conceit, but it saved stripping the bed. She took the time to roll a condom onto the now glistening dildo, a kindness as well as a practicality, and he let himself be pushed over onto the bed.

She lifted his legs and threw them akimbo, but she reward him with a dollop of clear, cool lube, stroked slippery against the tight ring of his anus and then massaged the phallus she was wearing with the same hands, leaving both slippery and ready. Grinning, she thrust herself between his legs and guided the head of the fake cock until it’s thick width was pressing insistently into him. Her hand briefly scrubbed over the rough nap of the towel, cleaning it, before she drove forwards, her hips swiveling to home into him and open him up.

“That’s better, slut, isn’t it? You’re so much happier with something inside you, aren’t you?”

Her hand pulled strokes from root to tip, easing him through the roughness, while her mouth crooned obscenities. She liked the noises he made when she was the one penetrating him, so much like her own. Her hips drove with her thighs and her stomach, looking to see just how hard she could jam into him, making him feel at her mercy.

Of course the contraption wasn’t a situation set up for endurance, and she let him enjoy it as well as suffer through it, panting and teasing him until between the insistence of the eight and a half inches of silicone and the hand on his prick he was spurting out all over his belly, milky semen into the grassland of dark strands on white.

Giggling, she him rest on his back, extracting herself. The condom peeled off the dildo neatly, turning tidily inside out, and he made a weak noise, half overwhelmed and half content. Later, they would shower together, the dildo in the bathroom sink waiting to be scrubbed clean to wait its boiling, but for the time being she enjoyed the moment.

And that, boys and girls, is what real strapon fucking action can look like. Fun, silly and sexy. 🙂

 

 

If You’re Not Into It’s Really Fucking Annoying

But honestly even if I were a femsub, some people’s approach would still make me a very angry woman.

I take dominants hitting on me really, really personally. I don’t know why, but it’s one of the fastest ways to get under my skin in the scene.

For example, at the last play party I was more than a little pissed to be asked repeatedly if I wanted to be spanked by a guy in a clown suit. The comedy of the situation does not escape me, but nonetheless, I wanted to scream at the guy. But, it’s also something I can’t really figure out if I’m too sensitive about or not. After all, dominants are dominant. I’m a dom. It’s not like there’s anything inherently wrong with it, right?

Argh, argh, argh!

I am sick of dom guys surreptitiously approaching me and asking me that… you know if I ever wanted to try the other side, they will be my manly and trusty escort. Or guys old enough to be my dad (or not) telling me they can see the submissiveness waiting to come out. For crying out loud, motherfuckers, I don’t tell you that I can see your inner submissive, like it was some sort of imaginary bra strap.

Even the “Where’s your collar, girl?!” trolls really don’t seem to understand how they come across, although that crew is so delusionally trying to live in Gor-land that they’re hardly my problem. It’s like- nooo, it didn’t possibly occur to me to try a widely available fantasy that is in half the romance novels I can buy, even before you factor in intentional kink stories like 50shades. Golly, Mr. Dom! A girl like me is ready to shuck it all off because you can’t relate to me in any way that doesn’t indulge your fetishes!

Not to mention that I don’t think these guys understand that without my consent, what they are proposing is a lot more threatening than say, just asking a girl out to the movies. Dude, you want to quasi forcibly sexually subjugate someone. I want to forcibly sexually subjugate someone. I at least have the self awareness that I don’t presume the entire damn universe shares my kink exactly the way I like it.

Like, sub guys can be creepy in their own special way, but at least the ones that don’t understand consent are largely only a hazard to my feet being undrooled on. They are not like Mr. Grabby hands “May I play with your hair?” who then was happily pawing my surgical stitches after I said an explicit no, because he couldn’t fathom that I said anything else but okay.

I feel like most male doms are perfect angels in this regard and don’t deserve the rant cannon, but those few bastards who can’t behave are a huge part of the more domly than-thou internal competition. You want to know why Ms. New Domme is acting like you shat on her dog because you deigned to speak with her? Some of it is because she might be a jerk and has been informed by porn that she needs to act like Mistress Bitchface, but I lay even odds that at least a factor of the apparent stick rammed up her ass is the very real awareness that without loud advertising people are going to assume she’s a sub. Not vanilla. Not a “kinkster” of no affiliation or a switch.

There is zero wrong with being a femsub, of course, but trust me, anything that decreases this sort of interaction is going to seem extremely inviting.

Queen Hatshepsut’s Strapon, “Penis Envy”, Penetration & Me

Note false beard of regal powerI like my strapon harness. It’s made out of sporty materials so I can just run it through the washing machine, and the O-ring system gives me a great ability to adapt. Putting stuff into people’s orifices is fun. I like penetrating people and pegging them.

Of course, because I’m also unable to have sex without over thinking things, I’m going to discuss the inherent baggage that comes with strapping one on, especially as a femdom.

If you are a female dominant, you’d have to be living in a box to not notice that wearing a fake penis is part of the stuff people automatically associate with you. Practically, a strapon is only one of the many ways you can stuff and stimulate a hole, but like a lady hyena, if you’re the top mammal, you seem to get a phallus. This association is so strong that guys into getting done up the ass routinely mislabel themselves as submissive. Much like male heterosexual transvestites also get wrongly filed under the submissive label (because panties and cross dressing as a woman are shameful, don’tcha know?) every femdom gets the joy of routinely reminding dudes that being pegged is only as submissive as they want to make it.

Of course, linguistically and socioculturally, people who like stuff in their bits deal with the fact that penetration is also generally associated with power. “Cocksucker!” is not generally used as a term of respect. There is also the problematic habit of characterizing the female reproductive system as, rather than being an internal but no less valid set of equipment, as being an absence of penis. Thankfully, the concept of “Penis envy” is generally discredited as being something that Freud got a bit carried away with (and is as probable as “womb envy” in men) but as much as the old guy got things insultingly wrong much of the time, he was correct in the way that guys and the cultural narrative they control seem to make power revolve around penises.

This, incidentally, also comes up in some of the chastity play and SPH, where again, the potency of the penis in the relationship gets to be a stand in for the potency of the dude that you are so lovingly debasing. Although this is not the rule, for example if you are showing the commitment to orgasm denial that uses topical lidocaine to numb the guy out before fucking, you’re probably not saying something about the actual equipment.

Anyway, be that as it may, it means that there’s two reasons to jam something in someone’s holes: it feels good (or bad in the right way) and for fun with symbols. I generally fall somewhere in the middle in this sort of spectrum- but I also have to admit something…

Fucking someone with a strapon is actually really hard work, and no matter how you slice it: you’re putting a non-nerve ending having artificial extension of yourself in someone for primarily psychological effect. On a physical front, It is considerably less effort to fuck someone by hand, or even, honestly, kneel down and blow the guy. Now I happen to like fellatio- I’ll never be one of those doms who never fucks. But even if you get him to ride you, if you’re on the bottom this may get uncomfortable (oomf, oomf, oomf!, quoth your dom from below, as a typically heavier male impales himself repeatedly). I really like fucking my partners this way, but it’s one of the least stereotypically “dominant” and self focused tricks in my sexual repertoire, and to be frank, since I see nothing inherently humiliating in being penetrated, this will always be an act of love.

Seriously. Wanna know what strapon sex feels like, mechanically? Try jamming a slightly soft peg into a well lubed, elastic hole hidden in two cushions, when you can’t feel the end of the peg, and you are steering with your pelvis.

Pegging is also weird because it is very much something that exists in the heterosexual space. Actually for that matter so does Futa, since a lot of the examples I’ve seen are either real transgendered people, to whom the penis does not trump their femininity- the labeling being chicks with dicks, not dudes with tits, even though the possession of other typically female characteristics like breasts in no way automatically marks that person as woman, or illustrations and photoshops of women with penises. (No really, even if you deny transgender as a thing, gynecomastia most certainly is a real phenomena).  It is the thing that the lady who likes the dude does to the dude. It is most certainly not the thing that the dude who likes the dude is using as a surrogate replacement for in the lady, except in those rare edge cases that exist to derail arguments.

So with the dildo-in-harness thing, strapping one on exists in a weird zone of being a penis for the people who are otherwise categorically not penis havers, and does not trump gender. It’s very much important that I am a woman penetrating a man for the psychological impact, though bizarrely, when a guy straps something on it goes in the opposite direction as being an adequacy insult.

Mind you fucking someone raw is still pretty hot. And if I temporarily had a real penis I would probably use it on someone.

But you know that the number one impulse strapping one on gives me?

Wibbly, wibbly, wibbly.

Review: Control by Charlotte Stein

The new cover of Control, by Charlotte Stein, is a rare example of a femdom book designed to appeal to a woman and which also does not get hung up on the idea of making her into a pro or head mistress or some such. It’s fun, it’s light and it even has a wee little bit of romance. And a very mundane setting down to the fixtures and baked pasta dish (surprisingly memorable in the way that you remember those little details when you fall in love) and a submissive male lead I could actually see myself wanting to fuck. That, in a world of pornography that goes out of its way to sell male subs as walking creep farms or eunuchs, is a very rewarding achievement in its own right.

The protagonist, an owner/operator of a naughty book store “Wicked Words”, has her choice between Submissive Gabe and Dominant Andy. Meeting both men as potential workers in her shop, she sets about shagging Andy seven ways to Sunday while sexually teasing Gabe non-stop.

Suspend practicalities- Madison, our heroine, lives in a world where this much fucking is normal. It’s porn, so it can be excused with the jerky start when she falls into bed with Andy at first meeting- I imagine if anyone in this universe ordered a pizza it would come with extra sausage.

I will say that Dominant Andy did nothing for me. I generally like my subs with an aggressive, self assured streak, but i he had been the only sales point of the book I would have put it down. As it stands, I got thorough the scenes he was in by skimming or irritably muttering under my breath: “Go away, Andy!” I can’t tell if the writing was not as strong or if it just wasn’t my fetish.

But Gabe was a fun male submissive lead with zingy chemistry. At times it touched on the idea that he was submissive because he was broken, which is not an idea I encourage, but on the balance it also made him a pleasant mix of fragile and tough, in a way that made my overly maternal dominant heart go pitter-pat. I had no trouble believing this half of the triad was bound for steamy fun.

It’s also a good example of femdom outside of femdom tropes- Madison is nobody’s leather wearing Mistress, nobody cracks a whip and the focus here is on D/s in a relatively normal (for porn land!) setting. If only Andy was given a smaller part, no matter how much he’d been assigned to be a sexual catalyst.

Category: Erotic romance
Rating: o~o~o~o (4/5)
How I got it: Bought it!
TL;DR: Bookseller Madison gets a choice between buttoned up sub Gabe and bad boy bossy type Andy. Logically, she  screws both of them until book’s end.