The 5,525 Mile Club

Conjugal Tents was not a phrase I expected to learn, much less use. The border remains sensibly sealed to the majority of traffic, though Silver is twice vaccinated, and I the Canadian once. At current suspicion that might be done at the end of the summer, with the start of the tentative discovery of metrics that will make it possible to lever our two countries open to each other.

I am late, this time, to the park. Usually I beat him by ten to thirty minutes and take up a book on a picnic bench in front of the US parking area. They do not want me there or inside the cars, though they tolerate me assisting carrying things about. But the park rangers have created a merciful compromise. No tents in the broad lawns or where the weddings happen at a steady clip as soon as the weather warms. But, in the more wooded far edge overlooking the road that splits the park from Canada proper, nylon mushrooms of various sizes sprout up.

It’s a proper field of desires.

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Femdom Life Updates May 2021: Birthday, Book Launch & Femdom Month!

Happy Birthday to me, 35 as of this month, and sitting in an interesting place. In a few days Silver intends to serve me up another Peace Arch picnic, while I get my first vaccine next week. It’s also the anniversary of when I asked Silver if he wanted to be a “boyfriend” in addition to Property, formally marking the point in which I recognized our relationship had wandered into Very Serious To The Point He Might Tell His Family.

Next year he’s going to brave the border for a semi-permanent stay, perfectly legal with a little extra paperwork, and hopefully by then, no extensive quarantine. For the time being, he’s had all his shots, but as a Canadian it will be the start of October before I am likely to have had mine finished. I can’t say what point we will see a border opening properly, although infection rates are slowly grinding back down again. Summer vacation will help.

The pandemic means it was quiet, without getting too carried away with any celebrations. My vanilla friend bubble bought my ice cream. Readers sent me well wishes and two send recognition via Patreon. Silver has giften me a very fancy microphone, a book of erotic art by Eric Stanton, and something “small” he intends to give me at the picnic. Perhaps it is socks!

I also added the heading you might see, as I am slowly getting better at bashing my template into what I want. Progress!

I launched a book, Corporate Conditioning

Corporate conditioning femdom cyberpunk story

I released a Cyberpunk Femdom Novella on Amazon, both digital and death tree format. It didn’t sell quite as well as “The Pet Gentleman”, but I’m ok with that. 😀

In hindsight I didn’t need to list it in erotica precisely as this one is a fairly personal tour of my fetishes. And as such there’s very little a person who isn’t as perverted as me would call explicit sex.

Nonetheless, I also know there really aren’t a lot of other books like it out there. Femdom mind control office romances, that escape into non con fantasy (aka “dark romance” under the coded language of Amazon writers), but also stick with what you would expect in a story about falling in love, are thin on the ground. And the reviews have been extremely positive, so that’s nice!

I did a whole #FemdomMonth thing on twitter

I don’t pretend to be the ultimate authority in all things Femdom, but I freely admit the #FemdomMonth project has been an opportunity to practice both consistency (something I struggle with) and add some positivity to a doom scrolling world. Also I have been focusing a lot lately on the needs of submissive men, who are definitely important, but also, by paradox, tend to get the lion’s share of everyone’s content. Never fear, there’s serious talk of a #Subtember.

I also enjoy it as an excuse to do my awkward hyperbolic joy at people. I am one of those femmes, who gushes with hearts and sincere but clumsy compliments. Also check out r/femdomcommunity that did a Femdom Month of their own!

Long Distance Fleshlight Fuck

I’ve done a bunch of housekeeping and found some writing that never got shared. Technically this is like, September 2020, but it’s no less raw and sexy. As per the title: a long distance fleshlight fuck, caught on webcam. Also Silver has been even more away for 4 days and I am already climbing the walls. I have a problem. 😛

His face, oh, his beautiful face.

Desire/Restraint
Desperate, wrapped & milked. Fearing Release as much as her craves to have it. Long distance fleshlight fuck

I am watching him, pixelated a bit (although apparently my video is just fine), and a tiny rectangle of myself, a video call reflection. I am perched on my bed in a pair of emerald green panties, with my hair in a pretty dark braid down my side. 

We are both ghost pale, shared gifts of ancestors who hung out in the arctic circle. I think we are good looking, and nobody has disputed that fact with me recently. Myself with the faint traces of worn out makeup around my eyes, and a nose that turns pink any time the temperature dips below 15 C. 

I have strong, dark brows and eyes to match. He, blond, has that golden sand colour with the warmth of a sugar cookie just starting to brown on the bottom in his hair, or the warm way a cream lampshade looks when the light’s on. His eyes are very blue, but a deeper riff on the colour, no water or sky comparisons, more Persian, Azure or Sapphire. The only pink is his lips, small thumb print nipples and the ruddy swollen gloss of his cock.

He’s so beautiful to me. 

Lean angular lines, slender limbs, so fragile and delicate looking, at once with the placement of deliberately sculpted, built muscle.

The fleshlight he bought was chosen to please a voyeur, in clear. While he fuck it, it’s hidden from the screen. But I saw it earlier in photos, close ups of his cock penetrating, careful to showcase what he is proud of, but more importantly, proud to give to me. Now he has the camera set so I have, quite without him thinking about it, almost the angle I would have if we were fucking, and his cock was engulfed inside me.

The trigger for this particular escapade was me filming myself slithering out of stretchy black jeans. Somehow this tongue in cheek little end of day inclusion of the mundane was the encouragement to make himself ready to fuck for me.

I can hear the faint squeak of the fleshlight sometimes, see the building pressure and tension in his face and upper body. It’s very different than making him edge with his hand for me.

This way, it’s a whole body commitment, and the desperation on his face gets very different, not just intimate because it is closer, but this extremely vulnerable fear, knowing that the pleasure he is chasing is putting him closer and closer to the risk of involuntary disobedience.

I have my panties to the side, two fingers working in and out, running a spoken line of erotic teasing that I amp up and down. The right words and he gets increasingly more incoherent.

Human sexual pleasure is two parts, the mental and the physical. While the mechanics of orgasm have their own nerve paths to complete the reaction, regardless of the state of your spine, we know the brain’s independent ability to arouse can exist without touch and friction.

I cannot wrap my legs around him, engulf and take him inside. There are about 200 km separating my airy, gauzy bedroom from his more modern and boxy, sleek space. But, I can fuck him with my words as deeply as he is thrusting into the slicked, ribbed and sucking channel of the toy.

It’s not his own movements that make him almost come, it’s my reminder that he’s helpless for me. Sincerely making my case for how trapped he is is the best way to turn him into a pile of whimpers.

I remind him that he begged me not to come last month, and no matter how good this feels, he can’t come now. I remind him that he is opened to me, to use as I see fit. I remind him if he does come it will be with my visit, now less than 2 weeks away, but only a chance to have me consider it.

Because if he does come. he’d better be emotionally ready to take that vulnerability, the drop of succumbing.  He’ll lose that reassuring numbing of unsatisfied lust drugging him from thinking too hard about the most dangerous thing for him. He wants me so badly, and sexual release is removal of the hand on his throat, only to leave him yearning for me to put it back.

He wants my love. But, coming or not, that’s a constant.


Best BlowjobMachines.com wanted to toss in a support, and they weren’t particularly rigid about the how, only that I let you know about their page on Best Blowjob Toys. Honestly in my opinion there isn’t enough sites out there promoting and reviewing male sex toys, so as an enthusiast of all things to use on men (or make them use for you) it’s nice to get a support from another project that’s in close alignment with me. Oh, and if sucking isn’t your thing (or you are a man without a penis), they are also pretty enthusiastic about sharing their post on Best Anal Toys For Men because dick or not, most men have a butt hole.

8 Things He Does When He’s Only Ever Been With Pro Dommes Before You

spotting the former client of a prodomme

Sex work is normal, and more than normal, healthy.

It’s important any piece about sex work acknowledge this fact explicitly: remuneration for the erotic is a perfectly reasonable thing. It might take many forms, and you, the reader, even if you are a lifestyle only domme, probably consume some manner of product of the larger industry. Perhaps you stick to erotica, or buying gear inspired by the things popularized in porn. Perhaps you, yourself like to enjoy the performance of a stripper or you are a client of someone yourself.

Nonetheless, when you are a lifestyle femdom, you will find yourself in the curious situation that not only are most resources for straight women tailored under the expectation of copying the pro experience, but a significant number of your partners will, up until you, have only ever experienced submission in the context of a professional, and it shows.

Take this not at an accusation of the evil fakery of the Pro, but as a certain pattern that I just keep seeing pop up over and over again.

1) Kneeling and wanking on a towel to finish is normal to him. 

These days there’s a well needed thaw on “dommes don’t fuck/BDSM is not sexual” by default. (And thank goodness!) But, quite reliably, if your partner wants to get off to femdom and it’s been pros only until this point, they don’t think it will be with any contact or physical assistance from you.

This is largely due to the letter, rather than the spirit of anti-sexwork laws being obeyed, but people who have only experienced being clients also expect a certain physical distance as part of emotional boundaries. So, knees on the floor, towel down and several feet away, a supervised wank has an odd habit of being how he expects things to wrap up. Can it be hot? Sure, but like the particular patterns in sex based on what looks good on camera trickle from porn to regular bedrooms, this one is a very strong tell.

2) Being *wildly* grateful. 

The thank yous don’t stop, from when you first agree to play to days after. It’s nice to be appreciated and infinitely reassuring if you are worried that he might not want a second time, or you need a little aftercare. Still to the point you start feeling slightly concerned they think this was a lot closer to helping them move a couch than mind blowing sex for you.

It’s not that you were “better” than his past experiences (although if he likes a lot of emotional intimacy it might necessarily have been). But, while kink, at the best of times, is vulnerable, the environment that makes sex work the only easy to find outlet tends to feed the idea this was being dooted by a unicorn. So many check-ins to say thank you again. So. Many. @_@

3) Reflexively calling play time “sessions”

Lifestyle BDSM is less likely to use this to describe a hookup, whether alone or at a play party. That’s not to say that one never does, but the framing of taking a private lesson or some sort of treatment or luxury spa time can bleed into both the approach he takes to it, but also how he talks about it before and after. The kink scene at large tends to pick up on it, as well, but it’s been my experience that M/f tends to frame it in terms of a scene. Again, it’s not bad, but it is a very philosophically different position to be in.

4) He gets weirdly anxious you are not being properly compensated. 

This doesn’t necessarily mean money, but there remains the perception that some sort of payment/service always has to go with the kink play out of “fairness” to you. In any relationship, gifts and acts of service make up 2/5 of the love languages people might approach relationships with. In professional domination, there is Often he’s quite free with the gifts or nurturing, and gets emotional gratification from doing so even independently of whatever other BDSM activities you do together. This is a bit of a chicken and egg thing, since if you don’t find paying for something very personal gratifying you aren’t going to be as likely to seek out a professional dominant.

5) Extremely healthy attitude about sex work as work, which generally extends into respecting women’s time and labour.  

Maybe it’s a selection bias to the guys I date too, but I find frequenting sex workers actually tends to have a certain awareness of how much femininity is performance. I can’t speak to every client ever, but it is very refreshing to be free of the guys who go out of their way to tell you you are prettier without makeup, or who expect a medal for preferring a less mainstream body type.

6) His mind is blown by very cuddly aftercare, possessive intimacy, or sex that blends into BDSM and back out again.  

See towel wanking for the other symptom of very hands off BDSM. Nobody is touching these boys in anything other than a controlled fashion, so expect a really big eyed paralyzed reaction the first time play ends with significant snuggles or involves climbing on top and biting. Mix stroking, petting and massage into play and they practically have some sort of temporary tour of nirvana… alongside the most bewildered faces this side of an Organic Chemistry class. 

7) Has trouble understanding you are getting anything out of this, though more than happy to do things your way even if it isn’t his fetish. 

Even when you just had a loud, sloppy orgasm. Even when he just spent the last hour falling all over himself trying to please whatever arbitrary kinks and preferences the fetish fairies gave you. In addition to feeling you need to be paid, your fellow may even need constant reassurance not the standard “did ya come/was it good for you?” but “That wasn’t *too* much of an imposition, was it?”

8) Usually able to clearly articulate his desires and separate how he thinks something will feel versus how it actually feels. 

Your average former client had a past partner who is very used to extracting actionable activities out of the often incoherent and oneiric space of fantasy. Can the traditions and practical parts of pro-work lead to some very unusual behaviour? Sure! But, for all of that, there’s a certain requirement to tease out what he wants from the vague flappy sea of human guessing and fretting. A professional session is not cheap, and professionals who thrive also have a particular knack for extracting want from “um, ah… I have this fantasy…”

As a bonus: You also have an accidental screening for the maybe-masochists who are more attracted to the idea of bottoming than receiving.

Defining (A Distinct) FemDom

Why I prefer femdom's culture

Credit for the topic here goes to Natasha Strange of kittenwithawhip, who started a blogging project themed as “FemDom Society” (no not that one!) I’m not in the official roster, but I thought I would throw in my support with this.

Why Femdom As A Niche (VS BDSM as a Whole)?

I no longer believe you can define femdom as being just a dominant who happens to be female. To use kink dominance in men as the norm is to ignore that there is no reason to make women the other. In over a decade of practical activity, I can say that given the options, I think “Femdom” as a niche, is not only distinct enough to deserve clarification, but the most likely of the collective approaches to being kinky to give me what I want.

True, I’ve written a bunch about feeling like the stereotype of the domme doesn’t suit me over the last decade. As with anything with a decade in tenure, even just looking over my blog, some parts I’ve argued are very insightful and some parts are pure cringe. Criticisms of the niche are correct, that it is not, as a whole, any escape from a gendered restriction on how women are allowed to express power, and much of Femdom still focuses on what men want as a priority.

But, for all my contrary streak, I have never felt Femdom didn’t have a unique face, flavour and aesthetic. I am glad I kept at my picking, because contrasting the more universally framed culture of BDSM VS this more explicitly gendered part, Femdom is a heck of a lot more welcoming to dominant women in particular. Yes, male fantasies and desires do put a lot of pressure onto my behavior. Nonetheless, I do not believe Femdom is just a manufactured façade that excludes women from their own self representation. Further, I do not feel that the BDSM community as a whole gives me more voice than femdom, and in a lot of ways, I am significantly more invisible in the former.

Thus, if I am in the business of pursuing orgasms and emotional satisfaction, femdom has the largest chance of providing it to me. Not all parts, of course! For example I am not particularly enthusiastic about the female supremacy fetish version, and I don’t find much gratification in the full rejecting men except as beta eunuchs shitck either. But, I really like guacamole, but have the cilantro taster gene, and that doesn’t have to be mutually exclusive either.

More than that, I believe that rejecting femdom, as a dominant, skirts awfully close to the same “not like other girls” style misogyny that attempts to escape the oppressive parts of gender by attacking the feminine.

I did not always notice this. I think the moment I realized that I had to reconsider how I was choosing to approach my identity was when a regular fetlife mod of domme groups, Carolyn, commented that she had an easier time connecting and getting along with male dominants rather than equivalent peers. It was an innocent observation: Femdoms just seemed to have more in common with her and her approach to her sub.

Whoops. I can’t call it malice, but I grew up with a very parallel problem. I’m a nerd, and historically that has made me a minority in the gaming and fandoms I like. And it is extremely common for one of the reasons my female peers to cite for not having more female friends are that women are not only boring, but typically some version of crazy and competitive. I don’t think Carolyn meant that she generally doesn’t like women, but it made me deeply suspicious of rejecting anything domme coded just because.

Sure, there’s things, for me that are more typical in male dom culture (like feeling your sub is incredibly sexy) that click with me. Nonetheless, it really made me reassess both my own behaviour and how I perceived other dominants like me. I couldn’t go around assuming nobody has anything in common with me if I don’t try to understand them. So I did, and I have largely come to conclude there are enough femdoms like me in my desires and outlook to make the stereotypes of first impressions irrelevant.

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Hoodie – Poems for My Submissive

Your hood, my hands poem caption

A hood holds your face as my hands would
If I could in this ocean of the uncertain
Clasp and shield both sides and wrap about
So all thoughts beneath were mine

I don’t pretend to know all, even as I want everything.
I want the mask over your breath to be my palm
And the lense in front of your eyes to see only me

I adore you.
Oh, you contain a wound up spring, I could twist that taut
Or pull the right place to collapse your cords
Tumble limbs into the bed and fret as you tangle in my hair that you somehow hurt me to be held

Silly man, your flesh is mine to bruise, and wrists to grip
You will nibble at my praise like a shy thing in the grass
Until tamed, I tie a ribbon on your neck

I’ll make that fast, still your concerns and comb out all worries with whispers

11 Types of Porn On My Twitter Feed

  1. Zoomers wholesome fucking in earnest static cam, and somehow ends up being less sexy and more heartwarming to my elder millennial crone self.
  2. We’re here, we’re queer & we have no pants. The gender rainbow on the other side of the Overton window. <3
  3. Oh look, $pornclipsite made a sale and auto posted. You are (allegedly) gonna get shadow banned for that bot work, careful.
  4. Half the libidex catalogue and still not allowed to cum
  5. I don’t know who any of these characters are but their fandom ships them with my fetish, so I guess I am here now?
  6. Fairy princess anal fisting gape cat ears nyahhh
  7. Hypno spirals and migraine inducing flashes.
  8. This highly stylish goth is VERY focused on square peg/round hole problems with her partner
  9. Squint real hard and this re-shared M/m porn might get you off without making you feel completely unattractive as a dominant who prefers male subs
  10. Hot femme with caption about being bad at writing social media copy, damn it!
  11. That’s a lot of dommes on tiktok. Huh.

If you actually thought this was #relatable say hi and follow me on twitter!

Cold Confessions At the Peace Arch

peace arch lovers

The wind rips through hard, a roar of the arctic, cutting through layers of clothes. Silver and I huddle closer together. The warmth of his body puts me in a relaxed state where I am not particularly chatty, but I just want to stay nestled up.

We have made a spot in the park out of two blankets and a flocked back plastic tablecloth, plus pillows and it is almost comfortable. Each of us are well wrapped, and our coats never come off.

It’s there about -1 to -4 C before wind chill. That’s quoted as between -10 and -20 C. Much of the time, today, it’s only two pale faces in a swathe of layers. We must be in love to put up with this.

Somewhere a snowsuit and sweater fetishist must be having a moment, but we look so ridiculous it whips around back into the romance of deprivation. Under the blanket hands steal under clothes, secretive and private. We are sure to keep what kinks you can pass in the bitter winter to ourselves.

I want to go to sleep with him there. We repeat endlessly how much we want the luxury of a private bed. We imagine cabins, apartments, hotel rooms, hot baths. I imagine camping, that even this would go on and on, putting us back in time to where we can’t get more shelter but we won’t have to part. There is a sensuality, even in the plaintive lack of immediate comfort.

My Property and I, in love and unable to shelter together any other way than this.

It’s a patently ridiculous situation, hemmed in by the sort of NIMBY suburb so opposed to access the nearest bus is a 45 minute walk away. News articles write their increasingly impatient pleas to make this park loophole impossible too.

The media has gotten firmer about the the whole border thing, too. When we (Canada) realized various politicians were jetting off to the Carribean and Mexico, it caused a career ending scandal for a few people. Add discovering that people who can’t afford to skip the usual winters in Canda via Florida realized that some of the people who could weren’t going to stop, and restrictions ate getting stricter. More tests, ridiculous hotel confinements. All of course waived for “essential” travel, making me feel deeply uncomfortable with the use of the medical system to be punitive.

But this is it’s own thing. The park is the border, neutral ground neither over nor in.

In Canada, fear of the border makes a convenient scapegoat for a country that, if better than the US, plays acceptable math with community spread. Love and touch are luxuries right now. 

I write this expecting to be seen as a selfish villainess. Although I already mentioned I am not so inclined to risk traveling the air route because I might carry something over or back in the morass of travel, there is a risk in maintaining even this bubble. Even if we both work from home and live clipped lives of smallness, with minimal contact with others, I still worry about it.

And hey, I am not like the UK, which accidentally banned sex with people outside of your household.  My governments are sympathetic to the fact that a household to cram your loved ones and childcare together is an uneven privilege, even if having to make practical exceptions in their guidelines creates and ambiguous mess that is open to self serving rationalizations.

I fear I will hurt someone else. I get anxiety watching movies with crowd scenes where everyone is unmasked. I live in a cloud of guilt that a kiss I call a need could be deadly.

It probably won’t hurt anyone else. But because I am not supposed to, even if I am allowed to, I cannot cleanly cleave what is and isn’t ultimately ok. It’s the usual mix of “badness” in sex and love.

Certainly the vitriol I get can be unintentionally hilarious. A few months back, hearing I got Covid, someone wrote that I deserved it for “travelling to the US to do sex work”. When you are reminded that the average person can’t conceive of a domme doing it for her own gratification, slut shaming meets erasure meets just world fallacies. 

My covid was definitely community transmission back when it all started, but we want to believe that only bad people get it. We want to believe it’s a binary, not a nasty lottery with just enough human agency to fight over.

Is it better or worse to feel powerless about covid or to be angry, because control seems almost in your grasp?

I do also have a degree of self awareness here of my privilege. There’s thousands of couples like me, sincerely in love, who at current prediction will be separated between March 2020 and October 2021. Not everyone can manage 2 weeks of seclusion. And Covid is very real, as I know so from surviving it, as did Silver back when it first made landfall, both waiting out an illness like something out of an old novel. Bed bound, weak, lungs scorched like we had breathed in bleach.

But reading the news articles about the Peace Arch Park, with leading questions about crossing a border in a way that isn’t happening, and clumsy whining crop-quoted from Whiterock and the area otherwise around the park, is a reminder that some people already think you are scum.

In the neighbourhood around the park, they worry people visiting will “come into their community”, a laughable statement in the rows of houses without even a corner store. There is no local community to intrude into, just a nicely walled development of tidy little houses. And the residents are not thinking about the larger Surrey or even Greater Vancouver area, much less the province or country. Their community is a bubble, a fortress forty five minutes walk from the nearest public transit.

 For decades the locals of this neighbourhood have hopped the border for cheap gas and groceries, circumnavigating various taxes by living in close proximity to the US. Now the daily line of cars is gone, only a few essential travelers tick by, and there are six tents up in the little wooded area. I think to myself that this neighbourhood has gone out of it’s way to keep free from the transient population, cutting itself off from the rest of city and visible evidence of inequality, only to end up with the so called “conjugal tents” in no mans land here.

It’s not justice, but it is irony.

Lest you think the Peace Arch is a hive of the lovelorn only, it’s also still being used by locals.

From time to time a person walking a dog passes through, or similarly in and back out groups or singles to stretch their legs. Fury and fear of diseased outsiders doesn’t limit still using the green space, or maybe the sort of people who own dogs are not those who petition MLAs to shut this place down.

When the Canadian side closed they said it was pressure for the traffic, not fear of Covid. Every news article since then has emphasized there are no known transmissions from this spot. Now, of course it’s more emphasized the motive was a possible hazard.

A disguised vehicle with a border patrol person circulates on 0 ave, checking for the scourge of Amazon packages and car parts. On my return, this time, they decline to search me, though I suspect it’s an unwillingness of the officer to leave their cozy vehicle.

Border police are always brisk and unfriendly, holding you under scrutiny like every interaction is an examination of miserable underclass. They were like that when the border was open, but a kiss even in the before times costs a quick brush with an armed man who wields significant state power, every time.

I have no car parts, nor Amazon parcels. I did pass Silver two things his way, a body harness of handmade leather, and little bears made marzipan, carefully molded and assembled by me.

So, the border guard sends me on my way. I leave comfort with him to the warmth of home. I wish I was generally happy right now but I am not. Not (just) because we are parted, but because the whole stupid situation with the pandemic is treading water with little energy.

Will the virus mutate too fast and outstrip the vaccine? Will we be three years deep and still navigating barriers?

I miss him when I leave with an ache of frustration that comes from not knowing when this long limbo will end. I love him. 

Eustratia Latex Stockings Review

latex stockings review eustratia header image
I do my own stunts

The saga of this latex stockings review is one of a few bumps and hiccups, but ultimately a lovely product. I won’t bury the lede, this is one of my favorite items in my growing fetish wardrobe. However these full length latex stockings, lovely or not, were also a measure of the maker’s customer service as well as their skill in rubber tailoring.

Eustratia, the Latex Designer

As a UK based fashion house, Eustratia exclusively sells on etsy and at time of writing, does not seem to have their own store front. Their designs are unique, particularly in their use of pressed lace and mesh into the rubber. That’s well beyond my budget at this time (T_T) but like nothing else I can find on the market. For the most part Eustratia looks like a one person show with maybe some background help, and she is very clear this is a labour of love and not priced anything close to the high quality. But does she live up to her own mandate?

The Latex Stockings, Themselves

Nahm

These stockings were my second latex purchase after that Polymorphe blue hoodie dress I had been coveting for about half a decade. The stockings are that colour we used to call transparent “nude” until it occurred to the general public that not everyone is a creamy sort of buff. I’d describe the tint as reminding me of how I take my tea, or a latte, if you are not an abomination to normal tea drinkers like me.

When I bought them, I opted to get them cut to my exact measurements. I also added a little plastic rib in the band at no extra charge, to makes them “stay ups”.

Since buying these, I’ve also tried stockings by Cathouse Clothing and Libidex. From a cut perspective these are superior, both in my opinion of the shaping to my leg and the aesthetic placement of the seams. That latter part was actually a significant part of my attraction to them. Although I make no secret about my stocking fetish, I also prefer to work with the materials I wear, not against it. Most designers seem to try to mimic the more traditional back seam look of old fashioned nylons. To be honest, when you are already forcing something that barely qualifies as wearable into clothes, trying to copy conceits to material in the original garment being imitated can feel like buying leggings with fake pockets and jeans rivets printed on them. Eustratia approaches latex with an understanding and appreciation of the material.

I don’t think it would be fair to make a perfect “fit” comparison, because the other two designers were off the rack, and this was tailored. I can say if you can afford to get your latex tailored and you are either athletic, or like me, curvy, do so.

The most important question to ask is if they feel good and flatter me.

latex stockings pretty posing
Also that bodysuit is wonderful

Subjectively, I think I look amazing. That’s me modeling them in the images, in all my squishy glory. As a femdom they also fill the secondary goal of reducing my property to that state he had coined as “put my mouth on it” level desire.

These stockings are a dream to get on, giving that silky second skin feeling. I only need a whisper of powder to get them on and no silicone self greasing needed. They have discreet venting via tiny holes on the seams at the feet, so no unwanted balloon toes. Custom measure points at different areas at the leg means that I don’t have particularly bad puffy thigh spill over problems. Being able to select shoe size avoids the classic trouble I have fitting my giant (size 9-10 US!) feet into something designed for the small and dainty.

The little plastic ribs do a good job of keeping them up, as does the natural grip of latex. Rolling is minimal, although you do need to settle the rib just so as it can stab you a bit. That’s an easy adjustment, and the effect is worth the extra bother. They shine up nicely, and if you wear them for an hour or so, they remain reasonably comfortable.

Small Caveats

If I were to nit pick I need to dig very hard. The only thing I noticed was different was a tiny amount of stray glue at the clearly carefully hand done seams. After one wearing that rubbed away. Natural, hand made crafts are going to have handmade hints. The much more significant problem that after their first wearing, both latex stockings developed the worst nightmare of any fetishist- small cracks. (!!!) However, when you work with a custom made product, how they handle a problem is, in my opinion, as much a measure of the quality of what you get, as when everything goes smoothly.

The Mishap (And What Happened)

When I bought them, it was just as the pandemic was kicking off. This in no way impacted the promised shipping times, and after a preliminary inspection in May 2020, they were a secret bit of fun at a park picnic. However, after taking them off (June 2020), I quickly discovered cracking at both feet. At first, as a latex noob, I was concerned I somehow damaged them, but inspecting my shoes showed nothing they could have rubbed or snagged on. Consulting with people with significantly more experience than me, we determined this was a materials fault.

Eustratia was very responsive on etsy, and quick to come up with the easiest solutions for international repair. That’s good to know if you have something that gets damaged from normal wear and tear! In my case, when I discussed my concerns with materials, she suggested mailing them back for her to inspect them. At a very nerve wracking postal experience (for some reason tracking them there cost almost as much as the stockings themselves, so I opted untracked), the maker let me know they arrived and were in queue.

I held off on my latex stockings review pending the actual outcome of this. That meant both anxiously waiting for pandemic level postal service to get them to her, and waiting for all the supplier delays and ship back time until I could get my replacement.

Better with Round 2?

latex stockings review
I feel pretty, and witty and bright…

I received the new stockings in January 2021, from a completely different European country, but no less neatly and prettily packaged and prepared with exactly the same care and love as the first parcel I received. These got their test and photo shoot, and I’m now extremely happy.

In a perfect world, there never would have been need for repair or replacement. However, given the cost, Eustratia basically ate it on labour and return shipping (replete with tracking!). Further, when you are making smaller batches there will already by risks to supplies and so forth. With custom work priced competitively to off the rack, let’s not pretend that I didn’t get a massive deal.

No, seriously, the closest match of basic latex stockings by Libidex are about $20 more expensive, and that designer is almost certainly getting a bulk materials discount AND not giving you remotely the same scope in sizing. Sure something went wrong, but insuring it didn’t would have meant significant up front costs that just would have put this out of the budget of an experimental purchase.

That’s part of why I do these reviews. As with my last one, the Libidex Matrix Latex Catsuit for Women, as a relative newcomer, guessing fit off models and online shopping can feel extremely intimidating. I won’t do the thing of saying that my body is more “real” than someone who poses for a living, but out side of the carefully curated spread sheets, word of mouth and star ratings on websites, latex clothing really doesn’t seem to get much consumer support the way that vibrators or dildoes do.

Final Verdict

I am VERY squishy

Designer: Eustratia

Product: Full Length Latex Stockings

Cost: $86.41 USD ($110.64CAD) +shipping

How I got ’em: Bought them, designer has no idea I am writing this review.

TL;DR: amazing design and lovely fit, initial materials issue fixed with replacement

Would I buy this again? Already planning next purchase.

What’s Wrong With All The Submissive Men?

Submissive men, as a group are not ok

Relax, this isn’t a hate piece. I’m being sympathetic and trying to solve the problem that a countless horde of submissive men have brought to me to solve. Just get a cup of tea and get comfy while I focus on you and fixing why you are so lonely and unhappy, ok?

First, who am I to speak about the problems of submissive men?

This problem has been made my problem because submissive men keep asking me to solve it. If you are a dominant woman in the internet, you will be a magnet to the lonely “please help me” queries of sub guys.

I still think we are some of the least qualified people to opine on finding a domme precisely because we are the last on the list of people trying to date us. Nonetheless, beyond the usual how to find a domme/how to find a mistress articles, some challenges are a little out of scope of simple check lists or quick tips. Brace yourself, this will be long.

Often a submissive man asking me also has no idea how to find a vanilla partner, or if he can have one, how to talk with her about getting his needs met. With that as a starting place, unpacking how to help him is a big ask indeed.

So why still try? I like men, so I’m interested in them. I don’t just like them as people to fuck, or boss to obey, but as a nerd, I spent a bunch of time in male heavy spaces from my youth. Being part of the minority of women in a stereotypically male hobby came with having a lot of male friends. Then, these guys would repeatedly seek in me a soft safety and social toolkit their male peers didn’t have. So I am not a therapist, but I’ve been drafted into trying to help guys. A lot. And I am (mostly) ok with it and doing it.

Unlike many she-nerds, I escaped the identity of being Not Like Other Girls and am largely comfortable with the fact that I couldn’t escape the pressures on my own perceived gender by opting out of normal. Nonetheless, I was not blind to the fact that the boys were Not Ok. And I was drilled enough both in my right to rule as benevolent princess, and my toolkit of humanism that I almost immediately wanted to know why it seemed to suck so freaking bad for the individuals of the so called ruling gender.

Submissive Men definitely have a problem

You guys get it coming both ways. You’re under immense pressure not to let your kinks show, as your desires transgress masculinity in ways we put a lot of effort to punishing men who do. On the other hand, you are awash in porn that has evolved to cater to your fantasies without much concern for the practical, including a thriving market in lying to you about how things work to indulge wishful thinking.

The net result is an amorphous blob of men who REALLY want a dominant woman, but have no idea how to find her, or relate to her. These guys don’t just fail to get a domme, but can often destroy their participation in groups, making dominant women gun shy about talking to them, and women who might be dommes reject trying it for fear of being eaten alive. I talk a bit more about that problem from my side when refer to my challenges of being the oft chased femdom unicorn. But I am not so unempathetic to fail to notice that while some of the behaviors I receive or witness from men are downright terrifying to me, a lot of sub men are suffering, and they don’t know where to start being ok.

Caveat time: this isn’t going to tell you the secret is to stop being male, or men just suck. My exploration is seriously concerned about your happiness and fulfillment. I am not here to scold you, but there is a problem and it does need fixing.

It starts in boyhood, because the Patriarchy.

Patriarchy is a system (simplifying here) in which a few men have power over everyone and use a system intertwined of familial alliance and influence on gender roles to maintain that power. The extreme is say, the FLDS cults, where polygyny is sustained by booting out enough boys when they come of age that the gender ratios let the rulers broker power by trading around women and girls.

Patriarchy sucks for everyone in that (to quote mangle) it convinces people that it’s not men versus women in so much as men versus men with women as the ball.

More painfully, because even in literal slavery, people don’t stop having thoughts and some capacity to act, the system rewards women who play along. While they usually can’t grasp supreme power, if you are female and buy in, things get significantly less shitty for you than if you opt out. And by being a wife, mother, daughter, etc… who props up the people in power, you can even get power over some men and other women!

In my opinion, this creates a feedback loop where men are incentivized to lash back at women, as safer targets (they have less power to retaliate), but also to associate women in power with an extreme threat to their social position.

A good example is in online gaming harassment. It’s the guys with the shittiest game scores being the nastiest. That nasty is more likely to spill onto female players, minorities and people who otherwise are already marginalized. And holy god is that not a good place to be starting from when your fetish is literally being “beaten by a girl”.

All the broken boys

If you go down the ridiculous MRA rabbit hole you may find yourself nodding along- hey society is weirdly quiet about the piles of dead men. We often hand wave this data as men killing men, as adults and equals, so they it is just the way of the cruel world. There’s some data there to belay this, but there are other pieces, including parts which the bizarre, self harming manosphere don’t bother touching.

You know the standard facts: shorter male lifespans on average. More successful suicides. Higher murder rate. What you may not know is where the count starts.

The first two big male die offs are in the womb, and in the early years of childhood. We cannot blame society for the fact that there are significantly more male to female conceptions, but the miscarriage rate for males is much higher. We think this is a product of the lack of genetic redundancy on the Y chromosome. Perhaps this causes the same effect in the next early childhood phase, but I think we need to consider when a possible baby is sexed is the minute that we apply external gender onto something/someone that doesn’t really have it. As much as you might see a different rate of certain genetic disorders, in so far as we can measure, sex differentiation in infants, in their cognitive and physical capacity, is minimal.

Despite that, whether shown in how you tie a baby’s scant hair, or the elaborately themed layette of princesses versus dinosaurs at a baby shower, gendered parenting is going on long before the kid would remotely demonstrate any differentiation in behaviors. To give you an idea of how blurry physical sex is: some infants are even born with ambiguous genitals that finish growing in one approximate pattern or another months later. Boy brain versus girl brain is completely irrelevant when you have a cute blob that sucks on things and can’t roll itself over yet. But… the external gendering of a baby starts long before the body really changes.

Nature versus Nurture: Tough Boys and Talking to Girls

Outside of modern western pink/blue framing, there are two fundamental differences in how we treat infant boys and girls. Female infants receive more gaze time and social interaction and male infants receive more exposure to risk and physical challenges.

(Summary from parenting article here, dig into scholarly search if you want to know more. If you can’t afford the article, email the writer- they will usually be happy to share it for free. You may also be able to access it at a university library)

And if people don’t know the sex of a baby, they will default to the behaviour they think matches the presumed gender. This is the important bit. Girls are getting more social time and boys more exposure to physical challenges long before we can measurably tell any difference in base capacity. There is also a minor but significant boost in skill acquisition in what you train your kid to do.

Particularly in the culture which, if you are reading this in English, you are at least partially immersed in, we hammer into boys that being feminine, soft and vulnerable is bad. We emotionally and psychologically cripple boys, while building up certain skills in girls. Sure we also try to stop girls from developing certain skills too, but boys are particularly restrained from associating with the feminine. No babydolls, housekeeping toys, dressing up, or associating yourself with female fictional characters. Later, in school, the presumption that you can’t empathize with a female protagonist and even the reading materials you get silo you.

The problem with submissive men is encapsulated in the unsolicited dick pic.

You, the reader, know that women do not like getting nudes from strange men. Unless this somehow goes viral and reaches into the far pockets of places where women seldom go (doubtful), if you are this many paragraphs into a theory essay on gender, you are unlikely to think it’s an effective strategy.

The brain breaking part is that when there was an effort to survey guys who do send unsolicited nudes, the general finding was that the guys assumed that it was wanted behaviour that would be reciprocated.

What? How???

Yes, I know, that sounds bizarre. But bear with me here… You have an audience that has fundamentally discouraged from developing skills that improve empathy from day 1. Then, you rigorously punished them for even considering to associate with girl things. Are we particularly surprised that they popped out on the other side of that with no knowledge of the inner lives of half the population?

Ok, that’s nice, but now what?

There’s three schools of advice in how to “fix” sub men: mumsy belated parenting, scolding them to suppress their needs, and fap. Fap is the masturbatory passing off of “training” via BDSM play as helpful, and we can discard this as fun but ultimately nonsense. Scolding is born of exasperation, as there’s only a certain amount of sexual harassment and clumsy entitlement you can take before blowing out a cutting screed on why sub men suck. And the maternal effort to get men to learn how to people can be both incredibly patronizing, and as we came in here, not necessarily giving men the toolkit to self teach.

Why not sub training?

I toss out any program of “slave training” or the demands of the small line of sub men asking dommes to use kink to teach them to be a sub, because it isn’t practical. Wrapping lessons in sexy pants tends to favour the norms of people equip to do mass teaching, which creates a few issues. It puts the onus on the domme to figure all this shit out the non-sexy way, first. It overemphasizes sexual openness, not itself bad, but not how most people hook up. You shouldn’t need to also be poly or into teaching sex to figure this out. And, more cynically, it creates a dedicated market for selling the fantasy at the expense of the practical.

The Limits of Scolding

Some men report learning from the angry domme screeds, or the advice to learn to sublimate the self. However, although a safe space to be fucking pissed at how we are treated is a crucial fire that provides the light to attract femdoms to a community, it feeds two problems: self hating subs, and radical over correction. Radical over correction is the more subby than thou guy announcing that he is basically a passive recipient of literally anything a domme might do. It’s not sustainable for most men, so it can be dishonest, and it still puts the onus all on the female half of the couple to make things function. Human interactions are complex, and most dommes want their partner’s needs as part of wanting them. The other problem with the trend of endless sub shaming is that you have a population that is already incredibly insecure, now being reminded they are all bad and nobody will want them.

Getting Beyond Being his Mother

Even me, the author, on the autism spectrum, has a whole toolkit I noticed most of my male peers do not. While maternal flavoured leadership is part of a typical woman’s gender training, unfortunately this is also one of those learn by rote versus teach critical thinking problems.

If you are a sub man you may find the greatest emotional fulfillment from the perception that you pleased your partner, but unfortunately getting there often means developing resilient and effective social tools that can adapt to the inherently ambiguous nature of all human social interactions. It’s not enough to give men a couple of etiquette rules local to your pocket of BDSM (like “always call her Mistress”, “no dick pics” or “tribute first”) and hope for the best.

Broadly the meat of my advice are as follows:

Seek out the (somewhat scant) men’s lib resources.

It sucks that the men’s movement is largely occupied by grifters and misogynistic dingdongs, because men need space to examine the problems that go with living as their gender without having to get just handme down resources. I know you feel like a needy tool hanging out as a feminist trying to unpack your own problems, but spaces like r/menslib are slowly getting you a bit of traction.

Maybe you are cool with gendered shit, but if you are feeling hecking alienated in this guy thing but still aware it’s your gender and you are stuck with its challenges, there are at least other humans being thoughtful about your real problems.

Reach out to other sub men and talk to them.

This one fucking sucks, but it’s been the observation that we dommes have made is that straight sub men don’t really like each other very much. Men have a hard enough time with community building, but the kink scene is particularly a mess. Every category of female + fetish seems to automatically build cliques, work groups and sisterhoods. Male tops tend to gravitate to showing off top skills, which I think is silly, but at least they can trad bro out about their erotic macramé or their awesome flogger swishing, or whatever trendy performance kink grants power and attention.

I can’t tell men how to order their business to have fun. However, if you *must* have a prestige skill anchor like the cis male doms to excuse your clustering, pick a couple of core archetypes you know sell well with women and obsess over that in a social way with other guys. What to pick? I dunno, strength training to give people piggybacks, being “the butler”, chastity marathons, endurance fucking, flogging bottom meditation- pick something, anything to use as a beard to open the conversation if the vulnerability of just directly admitting you need a community is too much.

Or talk about the guy dominated vanilla shit you already do outside of kink with them. If you MUST make this, ultimately, about a finding a partner rather than your own psychological well being, remember women will be lured to existing interesting conversations. There are more women who will feel safe talking about even football than casually sliding themselves into a conversation about how fuckable they are as a category. It works a heck of a lot better than standing in a corner holding a metaphorical rose and making overwhelmed worship noises.

Queer is your neighbour.

I cannot, strictly speaking, call straight sub men “queer”. That label is indelibly attached to homosexuality. However, it’s the closest frame of reference most submissive men will have for what, regardless of their firm attachment to being straight and cis. Queer guys are also heavily policed for displaying “weakness” (like you) and have valuable insights on being the object rather than the subject of gaze (eg how to be hot to get taken and fucked).

This isn’t the end state, as some things don’t directly translate. Your average m4m courtship is way more comfortable with in your face sexuality. For example, femdoms pretty much pan on the grindr special rosebud close up. But, queer is also a back door into understanding how women think, because queer culture has a lot more support for escaping “only for boys” aesthetic and social straight jacketing. It’s also a rare space where you can see other modes of being masculine (eg chubby “bears” being celebrated).

Embrace flirting as ambiguity

All humans are bad at knowing when other humans are flirting with them. We dedicate much of our massive brain power to trying to parse this out, coming up with elaborate schemas that still never successfully model every nuance of how we go from “Hello” to “Fuck”. Sorry, it is what it is.

But what you do have is that if you can’t tell if she is interested, neither can she in you. Until one of you pops, it’s a big playful game of “maybe”. I bring this up because sub guys are often trying to reconcile not trying to terrify the pants off of her, with the belief they have to lead aggressively, in antithesis to what they are trying to select for.

You may (still) need to be the first “hello”. I am super sorry about that. What you also have to wrangle is the grey area of finding and locating eachother’s boundaries. This is a topic that deserves its own essay, but broadly, flirting is an intriguing push-pull that lets you both deescalate in a way that saves face. Scared of being too bold? Socially, be mindful of keeping you both having an avenue of easy escape. (Trust me, once you flirt a lot, you too will appreciate learning to let her down gently).

Consume her world through art

Remedial consumption of media targeted at women can be one of the best ways of learning both what sells to her, and what she is likely to talk about. Even in the kink space, femdoms usually consume different porn than you probably do. Taking the time to know what pervy scenes get repeated a lot in her fanfic, terribad urban fantasy TV, and so on, can be key to getting into the larger conversation that is your mutual sexuality.

There’s a theory that reading fiction significantly improves all human’s “theory of mind”. That’s the ability to imagine the thought processes of others accurately. If you had a typical male childhood, keep in mind that one of the reasons women seem to have more “empathy” (a predictive capacity as well as a sensation of shared feeling) is that they have been encouraged since day 1 to enjoy and identify with male characters. You, on the other hand were robbed of a world of female protagonists. Some nervous pedagogue thought you might check out of learning to read if the story was mostly about a girl.

The damage is not permanent. From fanfic by women who share the same taste in media as you, to picking out shows aimed at women on netflix, you might even find stuff you genuinely like. Also you may end up feeling a lot less broken when you see the number of women who are not bastians of awareness and write men very poorly. But even that lets you know what they think you are like.

Now what?

It sucks. I’m sorry, I can’t undo a couple of decades of gendered damage towards keeping you lonely in the name of making you more competitive. But I can say that you are not without allies or people who care about you. You can’t necessarily fill the empty place with a singular domme and be whole, but your pain, bewilderment and confusion in the landscape of seeking fulfillment isn’t invalid just because you don’t have problems as bad as some other group.

If you take anything away from this, I hope you understand I am writing with a deep feeling of love for you. You matter and the world is better with you in it. I am sorry you got handed a lot of hard work, but I think that we can build communities where you can feel better.

Other sources: