Well, fuck. (Breakups)

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So, Strong and I broke up. No story this Friday, just a post mortum.

Leaving most personal details out of it, it just wasn’t working anymore, which makes me incredibly sad. More so since I didn’t stop caring about the poor bastard, we just lost the mutual connection. Somewhere along the way, it died.

Ferns basically has the crux of the challenge for dominants, that without submission there is nothing. You can have a relationship, but it’s a stunted one with an under current of frustration. Breaking up with him meant leaving the hope that if I was just a bit more patient he’d come back to me.

But there’s that bugger chemistry. When you feel like submission is being handed out like a cookie, and the person is too busy giving you what they think they want, you stop feeling that glow of empowerment. To describe the situation, of course, doesn’t give Strong a fair chance to defend himself. He tried to be what he thought I wanted to the best of his ability.

But the problem may also be a matter of style. Submission, for me, is seduced out or ripped out. I find I tend to be drawn to the switch-y ones, in part because of my masochism, but also because of that sense of victory. Ha. I bet I probably sound like a cliché. Every dominant likes to think they’re special and that their submissive does not fall easily.

(Well, actually I’m not so sure about that, since I fake ‘submissive’ really well and I do not act fighty)

But for me, a guy who is all service and obedience from the start makes me feel like I’ve been asked to scale a sheer wall of glass. When I met Strong, he was emphatically not in a submissive position. The chemistry grew up around his desire just for me and we created something that was unique to us.

And yet there’s the gulf that often comes up between expectation of how a sub should act and  what the dom wants. In his case, I think he choked, and got too focused on being the perfect boyfriend. We always had a problem that way, for example I would provide a rule I wanted to put into place and he would take it and run with it and turn it into something his. Which makes it not about me, but about doing things his way.

On the other hand some of this is normal. I may have been too demanding and distance is bloody hard. And I really need to feel like I have the person’s full attention when I want it, which may be pretty hard to pull off all the time.

Regardless, he was, in many ways, extremely good for me and I don’t regret that he was part of my life. He came in as a friend, and I hope we’ll stay that way after we’ve had a chance to lick our respective wounds.

Deranged Emails (Jeremy)

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Usually I only get spam through the contact form for this blog. However, I must be doing something right- look at the crazy person who just sent me some fanmail!

Your hypocricy

Alas, spelling is the first thing to go when the neurons start to fry.

Being a jerk and sexism are discouraged. You right stories about arrogant, pervert SEXIST scum, you have tabs highlighting male suffering and feminism and you say sexism is discouraged. How would you define sexism if not through your sick, hypocritical garbage?Submitting not for you?

Come again? Yeah, I don’t really get any emotional fulfillment from subverting myself that way. I’m a masochist but a terrible sub. What’s that got to do with sexism?

In other words, your just a typical worthless reject fuckbag wind and piss who is about as useful as a cunt on a nun.

Because the only value of a woman’s genitals is their utility as a source of sexual enjoyment to others? Okay…

Pity YOUR junk isn’t locked up, although I suspect nature gave you the best chastity device when it gave you your face. Just be glad when nature gave you a face like a dogs backside, it gave you the substance that comes out of one for a brain.

Well then, clearly this guy doesn’t like porn stories and me being supportive to a friend who is sad his $600 chastity device broke. Apparently the only purpose women have, to him, is submission or sexual gratification. I’m pretty sure he enjoys neither in real life, but hope spring eternal on his part, I guess. Also, is he trying to neg me?

No tolerance of Male led D/s at all, or are you one of those feminist pigs who try to portryay Male led, M/f/ D/s reationships as DV? That’s domestic violence in case you’re too stupid to know.

So this person really, really doesn’t like femdoms, or maybe they don’t like people who aren’t switches. Or they simply can’t understand the difference between a sexual preference. Typically speaking “feminism” is like a dog whistle for a particular brand of fighty idiot who rapidly turns vile and violent, usually in a way that makes feminism inherently self justifying.

Sadly, the guy who calls himself “Jeremy” doesn’t limit himself to just me. Alas, femdoms across the interwebs are finding his bags of flaming shit in their in boxes, apparently mostly via twitter. Thus discovered by Goddess Olivia and last year, Girls Rule, Subs Drool.

Same modus operandi- screeches of “It’s not FAIR!” with a string of incoherent insults. Same email address with a generic name. Guess the group home lets them have access to computers to keep them integrated into society?

Other Places To Go Part III

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It's been one of those months

It’s been a while since I did a link dump. Work and some emotionally confusing and exhausting life stuff have been draining my energy, including my creative output. However, I’m still keeping updating, albeit maybe a bit late.

Coming up on the writing queue is a review of one of my favourite writers of online femdom stories, who is making anthologies of his work, as well as a ebook called “How To Discipline Your Vampire”, a firmly tongue in cheek effort to cover all the book trends of the last decade other than maybe a girl rebel in a dystopia.

Now, the links!

Someone called Laura Brown at Divorce Darling made a ‘scoop-it’ page about ideas of what to do to your male submissive.

Becoming Her Slave has a whole blog devoted to pondering how to get women on board with this femdom thing in a way that makes it fun and non-pushy.

Submissive Guide aims to be a resource for subs to share their thoughts. It’s mostly femsub oriented, but they try to be malesub friendly too. Their sister site is Dominant Guide.

Friday Femdom Fiction: No Marks (Tickle)

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The cuffs made the satisfying tearing noise of silk being shredded when she unwound the velcro from its coiled up shape. He was still smiling, the black silk of the blindfold across his eyes like a censor bar.

“Huh,” she set the first cuff around his wrist and considered precisely what she was about to do. The nylon weave straps ran under the mattress, beneath them, an X shape with each end terminating with a cuff. “There we go.”

A naked spread eagle gave her a chance to enjoy the view. He was slim, with the build he’d built up with daily 6:00 AM swim practices. She swung a leg over his body, straddling him.

“Mistress?”

Her fingers sought his chest, stroking in a glide over his smooth skin. He kept himself hairless, as if that could somehow help him glide through water better. She couldn’t leave marks, which was just her luck. Boyfriend with a perfect body, a high pain threshold and a hobby that meant wearing a speedo on a regular basis. But she would show him.

“What are you planning tonight, Mistress? You’re not going to spank me, you tied me face up.” His tone had a challenge. With everything they did and played with, he was always quick to hid behind his limits. She liked that edge of rebellion that never went away, even as she sought to grasp it and rip it out by the roots.

Her fingers curled as the stroke reached his shoulders, letting them brush along where the muscle connected chest to arm. She liked the way he fit together,and the way that when he lay on his back she could still see the way his back muscle extended like a wing, “Hush.”

“Mmm?” He clammed up, but there was a certain sort of seeking in the way he tested against the cuffs on his wrists, pulling on the straps.

“You talk too much Waterboy.” She leaned in close. “If you want to come, I don’t want to hear you make a sound.”

And then her fingers skittered over his ribs. He gave a gasp, getting the measure of her game instantly.

She found all the delicate, soft places, where the nerves could be teased. Armpits. Back to ribs, and along his collar bone. He shook. The more she brushed her fingers against him, the more sensitized she saw he got. She took care to change the spot, never letting him adjust.

The blindfold, being nothing harsh, had loosened itself with the way her was frantically moving his head from side to side, grimacing and giving little whistling exhalations and snorts. he looked at her accusingly.

“Don’t laugh,” she warned, in that syrup and cyanide voice. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

Then, to raise his helplessness, she ordered, “Stop smiling!”

The way a nervous mouth and a happy mouth both pull themselves shared enough similarities, that between her constant stimulation and verbal prods, that it was almost impossible for him not to grin. “….hhhhh!”

“Was that a noise?”

He shook his head briskly, with a look of panic.

“Let’s see what you’re made of, then, shall we?” She slid down his body, making sure he felt her soft nakedness against his, until she settled herself at his feet.

When she began to tickle the soles of his feet, she was thankful she’d strapped his powerful legs down. He was kicking frantically.

“Just a little bit more,” she crooned. He was at her mercy now. She knew if she pushed a little more, he’d break, and one of his chuckles would slip out. She laughed then, considering. Did he come tonight, or would he have to wait?

Reader Letter: Hurting Yourself & Tying Yourself Up

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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. Tying yourself up is not an uncommon form of early exploration into kink and, I think solo play deserves as much love as playing with a partner.

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.

Best,

4playfiend

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

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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.

“Slut!”

“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

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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!

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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

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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

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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 amazon.ca 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.