Reader Letter: Hurting Yourself & Tying Yourself Up

Closer to God, or orgasm. Works for me.Self inflicted sadomasochism is often the first ways we get to experiment with our kinks. Whether you fantasized as a kid about how your piano lessons were taking place at gunpoint, you’re looking for some you focused self gratification or you’re simply trying to understand how something works before you try it on someone else, there are many reasons you might want to try an activity on yourself.

So I got this message recently, from a reader:

Hello Miss Pearl,

I have followed your blog for quite some time and enjoy it very much. You seem to offer a sane, critical, level headed view on BDSM community that I find quite refreshing. I have recently begun taking the first step past “lurking” on fetlife to more interactive engaging. I am a switch myself so am happy as a dominant or submissive. What I am interested in , is some online torture ideas that can be preformed on me, or directed by me. I recently experienced a “session ?” with elastic bands around my quads, that I found but exhilarating and painful in equal measure.

I have read what I can find online, which involve, chopsticks, ginger, clothes pegs etc. Yet nothing real jumps out at me. I was wondering do you have any ideas/knowledge of where to best look to get more informed on the subject ?? Thanks for taking the time to read,, and for maintaining such a quality blog.



Dear 4playfiend:

Sadomasochism is not always a couples activity, as many people have discovered. However, doing it by yourself obviously presents some challenges. For one thing, some bondage scenarios are just a little difficult when you can’t reach the knots and it may not feel quite the same way to do things to yourself. On the other hand, for one reason or another, for example a long distance relationship or happy fun time at home, you may want to engage in a little erotic self mortification.

But first, three pieces of safety advice for all you masturbatory enthusiasts reading.

  1. No breath play without a reliable partner. Breath play is already fucking dangerous without someone there to provide supervision and solo choking and smothering has claimed many people.  Don’t put things around your neck or plastic bags on your head.
  2. No vacbeds. Even on a timer, or set up in a way that you think you can get out of. Again, people have died this way, even people who were as close to vacbed experts as it gets.
  3. Don’t restrain yourself in a non-foolproof way. Use the baby handcuffs with the safety release switches and don’t just rely on “eventually I can wiggle free!”. As fun as freezing keys in an ice block sounds, you want something a bit more easy to deal with if your house catches on fire or you otherwise need to get out fast.

Everyone’s fetishes are a little different, so what you will find enjoyable is probably going to vary from one person to the next. Functionally speaking the number of ways that you can harmlessly give those nerve endings a hard time is as infinite as your imagination.  But if you’re really stumped, here’s a leaping off place:

Figging, icy hot, hot sauce, etc…  Some people like this sort of thing applied to a mucus membrane. Remember that ginger, the source of figging, has an unreliable level of spiciness, and what goes on may be more intense than you intended. As with eating spicy foods, oils are better for removing stinging burning oils and for gods sake, test that stuff slowly- do not randomly enema yourself with undiluted Ghost Pepper juice.

Clips, clamps and ties. Clothes pins are just one staple of this school of superficial but fun discomfort. You can get all sorts of pinchy grippy things, from clover clamps from the hardware store, to various hair clips (the metal ones tend to be a gentle, non-skin breaking chance for something spikey. Attach weights or not, as you prefer. You can also do “Zippers“, which for solo purposes, you can attach to a fixed point.

Non-binding harnesses, etc… As well as very, very light restraints of the kind that can be easily escaped from, those of you into the fine art of sexual macrame otherwise known as shibari, will discover that with patience there’s all sorts of chafe-y and tight ways to wind yourself up. for example this harness doesn’t need two people. Just cinch it nice and tight.

Kneeling on rice/dried peas/legoes. As well as something mean to do to your subs, it’s an easily reversible thing to do to yourself. This can be a bother to clean up. The trick here, if you want to surrender control, is probably a regular kitchen timer.

Exercise. It’s good for you and gets the endorphins flowing. And certain things like wall sits, planks and squats are uncomfortable and difficult. And, if you like externally applied attention, a simple exercise podcast can also help you trance out into the realm of pushing your body. Again, a timer is a harsh mistress/master that cannot be reasoned with.

Getting people superficially involved. If you’re really having trouble getting into the head state without at least some oversight, try something like fapdeciders at reddit. As well as giving you ideas, it’s an explicit community devoted to light, long distance attention.

Self bondage. There are 63 groups on fetlife devoted to tying yourself up. I suck at bondage but in my experience someone with a subbie streak and time on their hands is a fiend when it comes to elaborate but eventually escapable hogties and predicaments.

That’s only a superficial look at the subject matter, and leaves aside things like inflatable toys on timers, using dice to decide self punishments, and another other possibilities.

Hey readers, I’m not and expert and there’s a hundred of you or so stopping by every day. What’s your favourite selfie?


Friday Femdom Fiction: Topping From the Bottom

This one is almost meta femdom, and may not appeal if you’re looking for straight forward femdom fiction.


“That’s your biggest fantasy?”

“It is right now,” she bit her lip. “But it’s important that you want it.”

“Babe, you know I want whatever you want.”

“It’s more than that. But, I’m pretty confident that your tastes in porn hint… um…”

“It’s a hot scenario.” He held the bundle she’d given him to his chest. “And a cool hat.”

“See you in ten minutes,” she smiled and then mouthed a kiss. “Make it real. You know I can take it.”

She went into the room and closed the door, peeling off her robe and wadding it into a ball which she stuffed into the bottom of the closet. Once upon a time, before admissions and confessions, this had been his room. Now it served whatever purpose they needed for work or play. She fixed the blanket so it covered the exercise bike better, and put one of the two chairs in the middle of the room. Rummaging in the closet, she removed two things, shiny metal handcuffs with their keys, and a black cloth bag. The handcuffs, she opened up, thinking about last minute details and flicking the light off so the room dimmed to what little light came through the curtain.

Sitting in the chair, she smoothed the silky fabric of her night dress, feeling the garters underneath and checked her stockings. Runs were fine. Runs would make it more real, but she didn’t like it when the clips loosed themselves. The bag went over her head and she squirmed bit, using the back of the chair to lock the other cuff so her wrists were behind her back, helpless. She let her head hang, thinking about the role.

They came for her in the intimacy of her dressing room, taking her out like so many vanished people to one of their many jails.  She knew, sooner or later, her number was going to be up. She wondered what the charge would be. Subversive, or maybe indecency. Maybe they even knew what she was doing. No matter what, she had to protect them, keep their names from them.

She waited, heard boots outside, a voice. Male. The door opened and shut. The lamp flicked on and she felt his presence, pulling the bag by the corner until it tugged free of her head, leaving her hair in disarray about her face.

“Anastasia Asinova.”

He was tall, dressed impeccably, every button on the grey uniform shining. The peaked cap sat on his head precisely and he had a clip board in his other hand. He continued speaking, “Age 28, never married. Profession, singer. Parents, deceased.”

She saw that he was looking her over, and revelled in it, “Well, that’s me. What’d you haul me down here for?”

He lat a little impatience show, “You seem to be treating this with more levity than it deserves, Miss Asinova. You should have more respect for the state. Although that a degenerate like you doesn’t care, does not surprise me in the least.”

She shifted a bit in the chair, feeling the vulnerability of the cuffs and their tightness digging into her wrists. His height took on particular menace, but she knew her arms behind her back thrusts her breasts forward and knew that the guarded carefulness in her eyes was arousing him.

“Miss Asinova?”

Her head came up, proudly, with a little shake that settled the softness of her hair out of her vision, “What are the charges?”

“Indecency.” He sneered. “Degradation of the moral character of the populace and corruption, Miss Asinova. You sell yourself for perfume and stockings. To soldiers, to men with weak moral character, who can grant you favours, as bribes to officials. We know your methods; a friend of the state has informed us about everything.”

“I offer myself to whomever I like,” the way her arms were held by the cuffs pinched her wrists, and sent a certain tingle along her arms, from shoulder to scalp. “But I’m no whore.”

His hand caught her across the cheek, a stinging slap. She gasped. He was starting already.

“I think the evidence suggests otherwise. You know what happens to whores, Miss Asinova.”

She took a steadying breath. “So brutal.”

But she caught the slightly hesitation, where he was noticing her. The satin fabric of her slip poured over her skin, light lace and sleek, in a way she knew followed and hinted at the softness of her body. She knew that the lamp was enough to reveal its half transparency and the elastic tightness of her garter. She laughed. “You’re looking too aren’t you?”

His hand reached out and grabbed her chin, holding her head in place and stooping to meet her eyes. “Listen to me, Miss Asinova. There is one way you can survive and that is to make a full confession and be ready to make an atonement.”

She made a soft whimper, instinctual, pushing his buttons. “Oh, you’re hurting me!”

But then as his grip loosened a little, her smile came back and the tip of her tongue flicked against the webbing that joined his thumb to his palm, wet and ticklish. He retaliated by taking a fistful of her hair, hard enough she grimaced.


“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“You listen to me, Miss Asinova. Normally I would simply see you charged and tried. When they found you guilty you would be sent to be re-educated. There, they would take away your pretty clothes in exchange for a prison uniform. They would shave off your long hair for the lice. A diet of barley broth and cabbage and hard, honest work would take the curves right off you.”

She panted, dragged half out of the chair. The only way to spare the pain of his fingers tangled in her hair was to press towards him. “Then what are you going to do with me?”

“We are going to give you a second chance, Miss Asinova.” He released her, letting her sit again. “But we will expect you to do something in return.”

She let him see that she was frightened, curling herself away from him. And yet, she felt exhilarated and breathless, aroused and shivery. “W-what?”

“We know that you mix with less than honest people. If you have no compunctions about dirtying yourself, you might as well make yourself useful.”

She stole a glance at him. She knew that pose, a certain tension that told her that her every move was teasing him. She made a soft mewling noise and let her teeth capture her lip. “Alright, just tell me what I have to do.”

“You will inform on the men who buy your services. You may be called upon to show your patriotism.” She understood his meaning. She was going to become a trap.

“I am loyal!” She insisted. Under her filmy slip her thighs squeezed together. She was already thinking to how she could turn this to her advantage. He would think she would comply and she would ferret out the rat that had sold her out.

He reached for her again, this time her shoulder, leading her out of the chair with her wrists still linked behind her back. “Not many people get second chances, especially those as undeserving as you, Miss Asinova.”

She dipped her head, even as he gave her body another raking glance. “I’m very grateful.”

“Come here,” he said gruffly.

She watched him give into temptation and saw his fingers reach for the button of his pants, even as she knelt. They both knew what he wanted,  before her mouth was around him.

She nuzzled him, felt the hardness against her lips and sucked. Soap and a maleness that defied comparison. Dragging it out, she teased with her tongue, rubbed wet and firm against the head of his cock, like a good little degenerate.

The groan he made brought a muffled echo out of her own throat, but she persisted to tease until his hands found her head and urged her, faster and faster until she felt the pinprick of tears and started to gag. There was no gentleness there, something almost violent, as if he was conflicted about what he was doing. Perfect.

She let herself relax into being used, until she tasted his cum, hot thick and bitter. He held her a moment longer, on the final forward stroke, until he finished, and she immediately turned her face away as if to shame them and his desire.

There was a moment’s hesitation on his part and she looked at him again, in full defiance. “Now what?”

“Now we brief you in how you’re going to perform.” He helped hoist her up to her feet, steadying her balance, much more gently, and she felt the way he lingered close to her.

They broke their roles then, as he helped uncuff her, the little key flicking in the locks. Freed, she gave her arms a shake, flexing her wrists.

“Those aren’t too sore, are they?”

“Oh, no!”

“God, you’re sexy.” His arms wrapped around her. “The way you were wriggling about. I didn’t know if I wanted to beat you and rape you or beg you.”

“Good.” She made a happy noise, reached up and took off his hat to put it on her head. “You were fantastic yourself.”


I was sick all of last week, so this is late. It’s also three times the length that I try for with these pieces.

Conversation Openers That Will Not Help You Talk To Dominant Women

disgustedoldlady1) It’s so fantastic that you don’t charge money to dominate, not like those stoopid fake pros/findoms/etc… I recognize that the presence of a large number of sex workers can be jarring through to be depressing if you aren’t into paying. I get it’s intended to be a compliment, but it comes across as kinda weird- especially coming from a male dom who’s just trying to make conversation or if it ventures into bashing pro-doms. I’ve never disliked pros as a category just because I’m not one.

2) Wow! So young to be a dominant! That’s so unusual! Ditto. This is a context thing- mentioning there’s not a lot of younger dominants in your area isn’t going to get my dander up. commenting about how it’s such a strange sight that a young woman calls herself a dom is liable to get frosty ignores.

3) You know, if you want to sub, I promise not to tell anyone… No. Ick. Die in a fire. Trust me, when I get beat proper, I’m comfortable enough with my masochism to talk about my bruises with everyone. You know who doesn’t get to hit me or tie me up though? Creepy people who want to dominate me.

4)  wat do u like? I’m a snob. Sorry, I won’t attack you over typos or grammar mistakes, but there has to be a certain degree of coherence or me to maintain a conversation and/or attraction and language skills are a crucial part of the mating dance it takes to stimulate me. On another note, an opener asking me my fetishes seldom goes down well with any woman. That’s a conversation that’ll come up later if you’re worth it, don’t worry.

My Daily Life, Pride and Search Hits on My Awesome Femdom Blog!

Self referential Saturday time. After the phenomenal fun I have with amateur investigative reporting, this is a much more quiet weekend, among many reasons because I have a sinus infection. What have I been up to? Well, most recently I just put banana bread in the oven. Drool subs.

I’m increasingly losing patience with my job. Despite my blog hits growing, obviously this is not ever going to pay off as anything other than a labour of love (I played around with adding a “call it anything but tribute!” tip jar, but I’m still undecided.) I’d really like something that was a better work environment as far as people culture- the work itself would be okay if I had better instructions. So there’s that.

On the other hand on the blogging front… I get really proud to get hits like “femmedomme society site legit” (hint, no) and “easy-going femdom” (preen!). “Feminist femdom stories” is another good one, although I am slightly suspicious this is about female supremacy fantasies of irate radfems castrating. But since getting the sitemaps thing sorted out, Google’s webmaster tools inform me that things are actually getting indexed. Hurrah for my femdom blog being read!

Mind you, you can’t win ’em all. I’m still going on strong for versions of “Vampire Rape Porn”, but I also have attracted “horny women with animals”. I don’t own any animals, nor have I ever wanted to fuck one. I suppose that happens when you write about sexuality including sex research into female animals people are going to get confused.

I’m also having a hell of a time finding porn to review. I mean I can find a lot of stuff I clearly don’t like. On the femdom erotica front, it’s not hard to find Wicked Wanda stories or amateur products. My challenge is that I want to write a review of something *good*. I don’t want to be the blog that you go to to hear the creative dreams of others be trashed. Suggestions?

Friday Femdom Fiction: A Girl And Her Tease

The dress cinched in as he drew the zipper up. It made almost a purr.  She smiled at the mirror, and at the reflection of him, behind her. She was done up to the nines, face painted ivory, lips shiny, eyes dark. Her hair was swept up into an artful disarray. If she was stocking foot, her heels were simply waiting for her to step into them at the door. Underneath, he’d watched her layer, delicate, slippery soft nylon stockings, clipped garters, panties and a bra that hoisted her breasts up in a way that made one think of cupping hands.

“Very nice, Miss Bunny.”

“You know, just teasing’s no fun any more.” She smirked. Her sensed she was in one of her mood, where there was a hard edge to her desire. “I mean I dress up every time I go out.”

“Miss Bunny?”

“It’s not that I don’t like catch you staring. I mean, god, I stare at me sometimes, I’m that nice to look at. I like seeing the way you tent in your pants. And I like giving them a reason to drool.” She just about strutted, preening a bit.

“Maybe, just maybe, tonight, I’m going to fuck someone. Maybe when Rory gives me a drive home we’ll take a detour. Maybe Jay and I will duck out early. Maybe Natasha and I will stop flirting and I’ll get to have a taste. Maybe her boyfriend will do more than watch.”

He smiled, “Why not all at once, Miss Bunny?”

“Hmm, you’d like thinking about that, wouldn’t you, you naughty little bitch? Thinking about my face buried in Natasha’s cunt, finding out if the alphabet trick really works while her boyfriend fills my cunt? I bet she’d squeal really nicely with a few bites on the inside of those soft thighs. Do you think Troy would like it if after, she rode his cock while I let him have a turn eating me out?”

“Miss Bunny!” He was squirming on the spot now.

“Or maybe I’ll see how many boys would like to cum on my tits. Get them all in a nice circle so I can jerk and suck how I see fit and they are all begging for me to focus on them. Can you imagine that? One in each hand, squeezing, while another slides down my throat and I can feel more rubbing and pressing up against my face and hear them begging.”

He couldn’t help it, his hand began stroking himself through his pants.

“Hey!” She grabbed his hand up and smacked him on the knuckles. “Just for that you’re not going to get to come until I get back.”

“Miss Bunny! Please! I won’t get any work done!”

“Well, you need to control yourself better. Make sure to edge yourself at least once an hour.”

“How long are you going to be gone, Miss Bunny?” These events were usually only four or five hours.

“It depends on if I get lucky now, doesn’t it?” She winked. “Maybe I’ll have to organize myself my own little after party and you won’t see me until tomorrow.”


On schedule! Maybe real life me has been being a happy tease lately. 😉

Review: Femme Fatale: Slave To My Nature Series by Robert India

This is one of those ebooks being heavily pushed on Twitter as #femdom. To be precise Femme Fatale: Slave to My Nature has some femdom scenes in it. There are not, however, any Femme Fatales and this is a book. I didn’t like it but not because it was badly written, but because it did nada for me and my kinks.  Robert India put together something that is just dandy, if any of these things are your idea of fun:

Switching, being snarky about other people’s sexuality, high heels, M/m and mmf threesomes. And being super happy hot people living the sweet poly lux life.

As far as femdoms, though (or femme fatales), there’s Houseguest, his poly girlfriend, who he switches with, and a the female half of a couple the protagonist (also called Robert) has a threesome with and then berates for being too kinky for him. Every woman wears expensive high heels, much to the the delight of our hero. Robert does play up the “slave to my nature” bit, but precisely speaking that’s a desire to worship shoes and fuck pretty women. This is a story about a guy who thinks with his little head almost exclusively.

I think the protagonist spends as much time dom-ing men as he does submitting. One of the reasons why this book didn’t work for me on a personal level is that while Houseguest was cast as a distinct character with a will of her own, the finale scene was him topping her plus their bonus lover. If if could describe this any way I think it would be “the story of how a poly switch couple became a triad”. Clearly these people are very happy- score one for Robert India on that front.

But generally the femdom was put in a very controlled context- the protagonist puts himself in voluntary orgasm denial and Houseguest lightly teases him. The protagonist gets a demonstration that he’s not into masochism from Houseguest. He goes through with a threesome with a more S&M oriented couple, and rather than doing a pre-scene negotiation, storms off when he doesn’t like the direction their kinks went. I don’t really ever get the sense that Robert respects anyone in this story, except grudgingly, Houseguest.

This is another place where I was left scratching my head in puzzlement- basically we have femdom scenarios where the guy is at best ambiguously intrigued about them unless it’s things he very much wants. since there’s nothing inherently submissive about a shoe fetish or having your girlfriend have a will of her own, I was disinterested. Being on the receiving end of this a lot, via my inbox, it wasn’t something that pushed my buttons.

I’ve got a couple of take always here about the marketing too. I don’t think #switch sells as well, despite the absurdity that I know more people with switchy tendencies than people who would never even dabble in that direction. This is not fair to Robert India.

The book is at its strongest when it’s doing the gay stuff, and with one real quasi-cuckolding exception (during Robert’s self instigated experiment with chastity), if you like a bossy dude fucking dudes, that might be worth spending the $1 Canadian that the edition costs.
Category:  Ebook
Rating: o~o (2/5)
How I got it: Bought it
TL;DR: Perfectly fine writing, missed my kinks and hit a few personal bête noires as far as its treatment of femdom. This really should be filed under “M/m” and “switch” to do it justice.

Friday Femdom Fiction: Consensual Non-Consent

Three weeks ago:

“I’m going to use your cock and there’s nothing you can do about it,” she tried, smiling through the threat. Her hands were planted on either side of his head, denting into the mattress, her nose inches from his.

He tried to look frightened, held himself still and stiffened up. She saw the faux fear, and bumped her groin against his. “I really mean it!”

“I like that, when I feel like you’re going to force me and I have no say about it,”

“Oh really? Kinda hard for me, given that you’ve got fifty pounds on me and most of that’s muscle, babe.”

“Just make me do it.” His grin had gone goofy-horny, contemplating a perfect moment, some time in the future. “I have faith, maybe you could tie me up…?”

“If you don’t want it. you’re not gonna be hard. And you always want it when you are hard. Kinda hard to rape the willing, you know?”


Horny. She woke up with a slick of moisture between her legs, and her skin sensitized to the touch of the blanket. He was lying next to her, uncoiled from the curl he always fell asleep in, to the sprawl he spread into during the night. He liked the morning doze best, and she liked the softness in repose that took the stress out of his face. He would sleep until the last minute and dash off to work, tea in a travel mug and a bagel held in his mouth, just about buttoning his shirt as he went. And yet, working from home, invariably she was up a full hour before he transformed into the morning panic-flurry. She liked to watch him flail.

The shower washed away the smear of arousal, but not the sensations, water beating her body like caressing fingers, towel scraping rough and sensitizing. She took her birth control pill, swallowing the little dot of sugar, and flipped the kettle’s toggle to on, checking the glow to make sure the water was boiling. Still horny, and naked in the kitchen, her hand brushed over her nipples as she contemplated dealing with the pent up feelings. The clock showed seven thirty and her wet hair dripped down her back. She made a decision and walked back to the bedroom.

She picked up his phone and saw the alarm was going to go off in another thirty minutes, took it into the other room, and thumbed it to reset it to a minute and a half from now.

He didn’t wake up as she peeled the covers down. Naked, dark hair on pale skin, male lines, nipples wide and flat brown thumb prints, a slight softness of the belly that she always found desirable. Just about purring, she straddled him without letting herself touch him, hands hovering.

“Hmmm…” She made it feather light, nuzzling, waking him slowly, teasing his cock. Giving him a full erection first thing in the morning was easy, and with careful licks, she coaxed him from half swollen to rampant.

By the time he opened his eyes, he was already inside her, nestled up in the wet channel of her cunt and feeling the muscles grip.

“Oh.” She watched the reality of the situation home in to him as his brain began to properly perceive where he was. She rode him, letting the aroused tension grow.

And then his alarm went off, the phone frantically vibrating and chirping away.

“Oh shit. Karen…”

“Ma’am!” She insisted.

“Ma’am, I’m going to be…” She could tell the conflict to stay nestled up inside her was fighting the urgency he thought he needed to spring out of bed with.

“You stay here!” She just about growled at him, emphasizing with a hard down stroke that hilted him.

“Ma’am! Please, I’m going to be late!” He bucked underneath her, winding up to a full on morning-flail. The erection, however, stayed turgid and engulfed.

“You know all you have to do is say ‘Spaghetti’ to make it stop,” she gently mentioned the safeword.

“Nnnnn…” The temptation was there, but he shut his mouth. She saw the mixture of satisfaction and terror in his eyes.

“Then the only way you’re getting to work today is after I’ve had my satisfaction. So, slut, are you going to just lie there? I guess it would be nice to have lunch at home with you, for once.”

The sex that followed was frantic, as all the energy that propelled him out the door on time every day was thrown into fucking, begging and pleading. The more he whimpered, the more turned on she got, and the meaner she got, teasing him about missing the bus, and then the train and how everyone would look at him as he came in.

She came twice before she let him finish, and sweat beaded on his forehead, he panted let himself relax.

“Shit, Ma’am… can I call work and say I’m going to be late now?”

She smirked and handed him his phone, lighting up the screen first so the time blazed in front of his face.

“Oh. Ma’am. You…” He sputtered, realizing that even with the fucking and merciless teasing, he was still ten minutes early.

“If you hurry you can get a shower in too…” She slid off him, feeling pleasantly sore. “I’ll go bring you your clothes and get your tea on.”


Yeah, con-non-con creates a challenge. Friday Femdom Fiction is all about the loving couple who consents side of kink (for the brutal stuff you want Catamite or other writing projects) and I wanted a scenario where a woman could “rape” a man but have it not actually be rape.

Femme Domme Society: Who the fuck is William?

Of course the crazy comments continue about how I’m a disgruntled former user- (they finally got off the butts and deleted my account after ranting for several days that that i was baaanned). A great deal of speculation and names I’ve never heard of are piled up: Lexi? William? And a theory is presented that I’ve been attacking the site as a prolonged project or that I might be (gasp!) Maymay.

It’s not clear if this is based on an attempt to create a slanderous narrative or if I’ve dug out more information about another one of their business deals gone sour.  I’m actually happy to have them share the details on that one (they promised voicemails), so I’m sort of wondering if this means that a real hapless William is now getting some hysterical threats in his inbox as well.

It’s like they’ve never heard of investigative reporting and can’t understand that the only ax I had to grind was disagreeing with their methodology. I do personally feel that sinking to the level of the opponent and say, interfering with various pro-doms businesses are wrong (please don’t book 1000 fake appointments or something) but calling female supremacists on their bullshit is perfectly fine.

One of the accusations they kept throwing at me was “why don’t you do your own thing then, huh?!” Which I kind of am. Of course I’m not a BDSM expert by a long shot, but neither are they and I don’t sell myself as one. If you’re that interested in my attempts to try to educate people about surviving kink you probably want to check out things like my FAbQ or the BDSM advice posts in general.

I imagine if there is any organized effort to regroup, my pseudonym is now due to be dragged through the mud. I imagine this is the acceptable consequence, although I almost wish they’d find one of my real faults to harp on.  I’m also not sure how to take threatening-non-threats from people using multiple user names under the same IP. I will imagine since poor MISTRESS VENGEANCE has blocked me on twitter that she’d prefer it if I left her alone and I intend to respect that.

I’m not sure about the other people freaking out- most of them are the same two people- Countess/MistressCandy69 and another slightly more articulate entity that keeps swapping genders (again with my case that there isn’t exactly a women’s world) and since the accusation leveled against FDS already claim that they love fake identities… I’m also getting a lot of random spam to the tune of “You’re a MAN!” I’m not really sure how this is supposed to be insulting- I gather they don’t understand the concept of a non-professional dominant but it’s not really helping them seem rational.

I have a few theories here- one is that I’m getting abuse from site owners trying to manage things (the wild “William!” stuff hints in that direction) and the other theory is that some hapless prodoms who use the site have also been sucked into it and are trying to deal with the crushing cognitive dissonance that they’ve been pulled into a con. Possibly a little of column A and a little of column B, but I expect a libel laden tirade or two to be flung up about how I’m really a man, a few criminal accusations tossed my way, etc…

Thus far my take away remains that the tragedy here is that frauds like this thrive in darkness. Everyone doesn’t want to get doxed, everyone’s using at least one fake name, and it’s a sad, sordid little party of human frailty.

Late to the party? There’s still sad, sad cake left over here:

Femmedomme Society: Digging Deeper (Part 4)

Well, it looks like FSD finally came around to spew their complaints into the comments section! In this particular context they seem to be under the impression I’m a person banned from the website with an axe to grind.

I’d intended to end with just the “University”, but Pagan Boy, of Pagan House, has delivered by digging out some documents related to just who is behind Femmedomme Society. As you might have guessed, it’s a man. What you might not have guessed is that it’s a man with a series of embarrassing court cases and a lousy reputation for ripping off business associates. So we don’t just have a shitty, misleading adult website out of dozens, of other pieces of crap just like it, we have a crook to boot. Lovely!

Now regarding the rather lengthy rap sheet: While it’s always a good idea to be skeptical, extracts from Colorado criminal reports and angry screams about scams do not really back up the claim that this is an effort to bring about a New FemmeDomme World Order.

But let’s take a look at the evidence Pagan Boy dug out for me:

Right now the company listed on the bottom on the webpage is FDS Partners Ltd. However, if you look for where the domain name is registered you get a completely different company, registered in the UK (Society 31 Limited)- it’s located in a London office building, with the name “Kevin Lorimer” as the director- and the only name. Now that company was apparently dissolved in 2010, but the individual is quite traceable. I’m normally not big on doxing people, but this is publicly available information.

We can easily follow him to Colorado, (while the “Retreat” the website makes a big deal out of is apparently located in Phoenix). There, of course, we get access to more of the sordid scandal that is this scheme. It appears that Mr. Lorimer is the boss of the operation, working in concert with his wife and at least one other female associate, the pair of them also under standard prodom aliases. They’re all connected to a series of accusations around the following companies:

“Goliath Productions; FEMDOMFACTOR; Income Solutions; Online Success Center and FDS Partners LTD” documents a complaint, giving Pagan Boy some extra backup as well as helping us lead further down the rabbit hole.

“With respect to his websites, Kevin Lorimer creates false profiles to boost his membership numbers.  He uses online stock photos for these profiles and for his website pages to entice members.  He also has old photos of retreats that no longer exist.  He does this to gain paid memberships.  His business is registered overseas so that he doesn’t have to pay income taxes.  He also uses variations of his name to register for utilities, etc. in order to avoid being located. “

Thankfully Pagan Boy was kind enough to dig out some information to help with the claim about Mr. Lorimer’s legal troubles. A cease and desist, for example, for selling securities through “Income Solutions”.  Or let’s look at his time in the Colorado courts, for example, right here.

I’d like to believe that the ranting ladies in my comments section are just upset that they’ve been taken in. One was even nice enough to link back from her website with how she’s rightly trounced me, although I would also mention she is perfectly welcome to claiming all the victories she wants- I don’t see this as a competition.

The take away here is that if something sounds like it’s too good to be true, it probably is. It also leads to speculation of whether people are actually getting what they paid for (perhaps MISTRESS VENGEANCE would care to provide her insider information?) . It’s also unfortunate- as long as sex work continues to exist in the shadow of quasi-legality and doesn’t have better protections, this plus the general ignorance about BDSM gives Mr. Lorimer a place to ply his trade. At the very least he’s implied to be a pimp and these cases remain recent enough that FDS has a lot to answer for.

For me, this isn’t even about revenge, it’s just being honest about the festering infection that makes life so much harder for sexworker and lifestyle person alike. These people are not even proper professionals, but usually scammers who promise that they will take on submissives but demand that the sub prove themselves with membership. Case in point, this poor gentleman from FDS:

Hello Miss Pearl,
Thanks for the answer. I have read what you say about the site, it is very interesting. My account won’t be renewed either… I had actually joined as a paying member after the third letter from someone… who hasn’t answer back since I joined… ha ha!
Anyway… as I said before, I would love the chance to know you… and I do make a good friend…
[Name Redacted]

Poor guy.

Curious how we got here?


Femdomme Society University Tell All (Part 3)

This weekend, I looked into the website “Femdomme Society” to find out just precisely was their operating motives. According to their marketing copy, they offer themselves as a femdom community for doms and subs seeking to build a better world. In practice they are a “ladies get in free” style dating site that tries to get you to run cam shows while charging male members a monthly fee.

But, as part of their mission they offer a “University”, as a BDSM101. Sounds great, right? Just to make their audience feel extra special, there’s a doms only section of supposed secrets for helping them discover their feet. And as talked about here and here already, it’s bullshit, and harmful bullshit at that. But, since you stuck with me so far… onwards!

We wander into a list of suggested punishments and reminders that it is your responsibility to set up elaborate, enforced rules for the sub, and a blatant grab to get you to buy one of their supposedly highly effective “purge boxes”.  As usual the distinction between punishment and funishment is left ambiguous, with the idea that doms always have a duty to punish.

Of course a website like that wouldn’t be complete without pushing feminization and chastity play down everyone’s throats. Neither of these are bad, but one of the problems with contemporary femdom’s image is that these fetishes are treated like must haves or everyone.

With the latter, as usual, wrapped in reassurances that the cunnilingus will be worth it, and the former making no effort to deal with the fact that we just read several pages emphasizing how being more feminine would get to the heart of male submissive desires- so there’s an inherent disconnect that me wearing panties makes me powerful and him wearing panties makes him powerless. There’s a brief stop on watersports and other things like that, with the inaccurate statement that urine is “sterile”, which is a gross exaggeration that pee is less likely to make you sick than our taboos about bodily waste.

But, Femdomme society is also ready to speculate about why the femdom stereotype shtick is important:

Remember Men create the majority of FemDom stories, pictures and images to express how powerful Women are in their eyes and how weak they feel in a Woman’s presence. These images represent what men are really feeling inside. The poet and the song writer use words and the artist uses visual images to express their inner feelings. So when a Woman displays that “image” by donning a fetish outfit, or saying a term, or using Her voice in a certain manner, She touches the male submissive nature and triggers his feelings and desires, thus he becomes weak and helpless. Then the Woman can interact with the man with all barriers and defense mechanisms down. Now She is free to interact with the man in a more meaningful way. Now true intimacy and bonding can take place between the Woman and the man because She now can see Herself as he does.

See, the problem here is that we’re back to man-pleasing in the name of dominance. Now I don’t doubt it’s nice to make each other happy, but this just isn’t something that gets inflicted on maledoms. Which is why no matter how many corsets you lace yourself into, you’re not going to bring about a world revolution by making people desire your body, and you will be doing it at expense of your own sexuality, supplanting it with the desire-to-be-desired.

We’ve reached the end of the “Uniersity” so now they take the time to speak directly as website owners. Someone in the comments already compared this to Scientology, but the comparison to a cult really stands out when they explain the website rankings. Just joining gets you to “dame”. Finish reading their bogus educational pages and you can call yourself…”Madame”. If you agree to an interview with them to go on their website, you get promoted to “Baroness”. The title are of course meaningless, but create an artificial ranking system that of course goes back to making you sound like you wandered out of an exploitation flick.

But I suppose you were wondering where all this was going… The grand finale:

Once you achieve the rank of Baroness you will qualify for our affiliate program. What is it? It is a way for you to share in the profits of the Society. How does it work? First all Women on the site have a free membership, providing them full access, but men do not, they must upgrade to either a monthly membership of $28 or to a life time member of a single payment of $125 to gain full access, otherwise they have limited access as a silver member. Please keep in mind the cost of operating the Society, retreat and website is hefty. But we operate on a profit sharing basis, because the purpose of the Society is not to generate revenue, but rather to ensure that anyone who wishes to explore this life style has a safe place to do it. OK back to profit sharing. Once you are a Baroness you will qualify for our Affiliate Program, by setting up your affiliate application you will get your own admin section that allows you to keep track of any submissive that upgrade and enter your ID number as their sponsoring Domme. You will earn $14.95 for each monthly member! Every month that he continues with his membership, so it is always good to follow up with them and keep them active. To put this in perspective, if you have 50 guys who have upgraded to a Gold , monthly membership and they entered your ID number when first upgraded then you will earn. $747 each month. If a submissive upgrades to a Platinum, life time membership, you will get a one time payment of $50. The best way to have the website work for you, is to visit your myaccount section. On the right hand side you will see banners, These banner are specifically coded to your profile. Copy and paste the code in the white box, and place it on other websites, facebook, myspace or your blog and that banner will appear there. Anytime someone clicks on the banner, we track them, and if they upgrade to paying they earn you money.

Look, I have nothing against needing money, but this is practically next door to a pyramid scheme. It’s essentially telling you that you should be actively recruiting men and encouraging them to spend money… for what? To build a female led world based on being conventionally feminine to trick men into dressing in a conventionally feminine fashion?

Instead we have a scheme that encourages female members to recruit male members for money, offering and unhealthy, male pleasing idea of femdom to line the pockets of the “Baronesses”, or more to the point, the website owners.