How to Meet and Get Along With Dominant Women

Start up any kink forum, and the same standard questions come up, time and time again: “How the hell do I get a Mistress/Domme/Dom/Dominatrix?!” Sister to this plaintive cry is the equally desperate call of the dominant women “How the hell do I make these guys figure out how to approach me properly?!”

This is the awkward part: trying to give advice. As observed by Beej, there’s a lot of hand holding Mumsy advice, often downright basic things about regular baths and wearing some pants on the first date; a hell of a lot of idealistic twiddlings on the true beauty of kinky sex and the difficulty in doing it; there’s a whole suitcase full of books about starting out kinky in any particular orientation you want, many of which have been around since before absolutely everyone had the internet; and of course there’s an active scene in most communities of a certain size, where at least one person fancies themselves to be a mentor.

This is not even getting into the websites people have put together giving various shades of advice, from pornographic fantasy like the abysmal Elise Sutton to fussy little tripod and archived Geocities pages that were labours of love of some well meaning person about a decade ago, and still bear their black backgrounds and white or coloured text, (because anything about kink has to look like something I thought was cool when I was a 15 year old goth) and “under construction” GIFs. But your question is probably- Where are the fem doms at and how do I approach one without getting devoured like a male praying mantis or shunned like I was president NAMBLA?

Read more

Quick N’ Dirty Kink Guide for Sub Men

Introduction

For one reason or another, you think you might be a guy interested in kink and you started with the idea of being a “submissive”. You’re new and a lot of the terminology is unfamiliar- maybe you played about a bit with a partner or maybe the only place you’ve encountered it is pornography or your fantasies. Since you’re reading this, I gather you’re interested in the subject of male submission.

In any case this guide is written to be a no nonsense user friendly introduction to the subject. An earlier version exists on HubPages, but I’d rather host my work myself. so, read on…

Read more

Flashflood

A short piece, originally published on fetlife.

He’s wearing the button down shirt you like, ironed flat and neat because you have a thing for that. Once upon a time, when you were a little girl, Barbie hurled Ken off the edge of the bed and your mother found you stringing them both up by the chewed up feet. Now you hurl him onto the bed, push him back aggressively.

Oh god, oh god. He’s taken your fetish to heart. Clean pressed black slacks are about to get really rumpled and you have him down to socks and boxers faster than peeling a banana. Fuck, you can stroke up an erection through his underwear. You can see the lines in his shoulders when he throws his arms up (hands up! you said to that indulgent 13 year old boy when you were 11, and you had a water pistol on a hot summer’s day). That was a boy, this is a man, with a man’s smell and muscles under the skin and much more potential than shy awkwardness and your first kiss at gunpoint, ten years ago.

Read more

Nailed Hard

More porn.

She’d taken her time with his bondage, spread eagled with scarves not ropes on the four poster bed. Pashminas, available in every colour of the rainbow, made soft thick holds around his wrists and ankles. Blindfold, ball gag (he could spit it out if he really worked at it), safeword more for her comfort than his and indicated by a raised little finger.

Flesh, and the abuse thereof came with its own clichés. His torso was not an unmarked canvas waiting for the touch of an artist or a pristine landscape without footprints, it was hairy and warm, every pore on his skin releasing that delicious pheromone she had to call musk because there wasn’t a word for the cloying, back of the nose taste that came with sex.

Read more

Wax & Water

A short story with D/s.

She put her thumbnail behind his ear and began to press hard, into the fold where it joined his skin, pinching and pulling as her nail dug in and scratched. It was a hidden spot, one of her favourites, where she could slash and scratch and nobody would be the wiser.

“Come on,” she barked, at his distressed, sleepy face. “Hurry up!”

Leading him off the bed, she yanked in the direction of the closet, with him stumbling after, his long limbs never meant for a journey on all fours. She made him kneel and open his mouth, wrenched the closet open and grabbed the large cardboard box, with the marker scrawl ‘Toys’.

“I don’t want the neighbours to hear.”

Read more