Why I Write a Femdom Blog

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I’d really like to thank femdom resources, for deciding to add me to the blogger list. I really appreciate being part of the archive of resources in their collection, and I hope readers find me helpful, or if not helpful, entertaining.

OMissPearl exists, hopefully, not just as a platform for self aggrandizement (although there’s lots of that), but also simply to be another voice. In what was very few years ago, I remember when Bitchy Jones seemed to be the only voice out there, and Dan Savage was still telling novice doms how lucky they were they could go pro, and to look to advertising for porn that spoke to us. Her brilliant bitterness was really inspirational to me.

At 27, I’m finally old enough to start speaking retrospectively, although if it comes out awkward, blame lack of experience. At least, I’ve stopped being “smart for my age”, which I’d like to think happened due to an increase in age not a drop in smart. 😛

When I started this blog, I was also inspired by trying to put my porn out there after reading Little Submissions. At the moment the rant-to-erotica ratio has somewhat pushed these projects off the radar, but I’d have to say that I really appreciate your patience.

These days, what I have is both planted firmly on the shoulders of giants, and surrounded by taller giants still. Which is a sort of odd mental image, I suppose, and makes the whole thing sound like a mosh pit our of Jack and the Beanstalk.

Anyway I’d like to thank my readers, old and new. We passes 10K visits this year about two days ago, which for me, is probably the most attention a project of mine has ever gotten in a measurable, consistent way. There’s a few projects that are in the pipeline:

1) Reviews, when I can sound a bit more positive about the creative work of others

2) More direct commentary on scene and kink stuff that needs to be talked about.

On the latter point, I’m putting a shout out for content requests. What are things that you think aren’t getting enough love in the BDSM scene? In kink outside the scene?

My Buttplug Is Dented!

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Once in a while I get the urge to shove things up my ass. Only I’m next door to virginal with this, so that means small, carefully selected toys. And since the urge only strikes when I’m really, really horny (in this case a reaction to stress alongside breaking out and stopping eating), normally they live in a bland as hell cardboard box.

So I’d reached that point in a post shower masturbation session where my hair was making a puddle in the pillow while my fingers were making a puddle between my legs, when there was the itch to do it.

A while ago I bought an anal starter kit. It was the worst shade of lurid, Pepto Bismo pink, and on a steep discount over at pinkcherry.ca. But, Doc Johnson signed off on this, and since $20 is not a bad price to pay for a bunch of things I can’t see anyway…

So I’m deciding among my options: I have the condom to go over the buttplug (hygiene), the off brand KY, and go rummaging in the box for the “big” one. Lest you think I’m a size queen, that’s about the girth of penis at its widest point and that’s too much for me.

Only it’s not exactly smooth anymore. It’s gone all ripply. Like there’s a pinch, or a crease or a big dent. Well… it was $20 for a set. Looks like being stored horizontally was too much for the structural integrity and the soft core squished. So there I was, really horny, stymied by my own cheapness.

Don’t worry, anal explorations were not hampered by Mr. Dimple. 😛

Hair Raising Yahoo BDSM Articles

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Yahoo, you're scaring me...Yahoo is alarming me today.

So as part of my mandate for this blog, I want to try to provide people with somewhat sane kink resources. I’ve been feeling pretty chuffed, and sometimes a bit outclassed lately by all the great advice that’s out there. But then I decided, for the purpose of a post I was putting together to go back to the basics and do a google search or two for information. What, after all, would a complete novice, who wasn’t neck deep in blogs and online groups find?

I googled “being the best submissive” because that was what I was looking for for the post I was writing.

Apparently, as part of the “Lifestyles” web content mandate they have, Yahoo has random contributor written BDSM advice articles cheerfully packed in next to Recycling and Food & Wine. I suppose this is not surprising, as BDSM is hardly anything alarming. It’s presented as basic instructions, often with titles like BDSM 101. So, it’s sex and relationship discussions for normal healthy couples, right?

Let’s check out some of their advice…

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Cum

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Cum tastes kinda like baking soda.

Sorry, that’s the non-erotic truth. Porn (especially cartoons, which have a lot of artistic licence)  generally go in for creamy, squirted cum shots like it had the consistency of slightly diluted dish soap, a couple of gallons at a time… Often it is things like soap when you see it in real person porn, and actors speak ruefully of getting a mouthful of Cetaphil more often than they’d like. Real life? Not so much.

I like semen. On me, on him.

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Horny Women: Turning Me, and Females (Animals and People) On

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With various corners of the internet talking about a book that just came out “What Do Women Want?: Adventures in the Science of Female Desire”, and the accompanying media articles, I suppose it’s topical to discuss my own relationship with the subject.

Thanks to Puritanical morals, human sex research has been greatly hampered. From the only recently formally discovered “internal clitoris” (circa 2009!) to decades upon decades of fucked up animal sex research because we assumed that certain human social models apply to the animal kingdom as the biological gold standard. As well as it not being polite to talk about all the gay animals until very recently, one of the things that’s getting talked about is female desire.

So… what do I think about my own sexual desire, as a woman?

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FemDom On a Work Morning

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Space invaders, winter of 2012, I'll be sad when it breaks.
thedrunkenmoogle.com

Morning. Wake up at 5:00 AM, flail a bit for my phone and check the time. Be not quite sure why I woke up that early, go back to sleep. Feel all fuzzy at 6:00 AM when I was supposed to wake up. Sort of flail around and semi doze for 45 minutes against my better judgement. Poke the sub, put the kettle on. Salted Caramel black tea in my Space Invaders mug (see image). Random internetings.

Look glumly at perpetual mess in the kitchen, make mental note to take trash out to avoid smells from Atlantic salmon steak last night. Decide to at least make mess a little better and empty sink for easier dish washing. What to pack for Lunch? Salad? With ham? Sandwich?  Clean inside of sink, wash a knife. Breakfast is at work, there’s still bagels left from the ones I bought yesterday. Salad-with-ham, also chopped fennel, pickled turnip, baby romaine lettuce, small cuke. Time to get groceries after work. Ham? Why not! Make a mustard based dressing. Put tupperware in platic bag to avoid bathing the inside of my purse in homemade mustard dressing. Because the sink is empty, wash all lunch related dishes. Pat self on back, put lunch in purse. Have forgotten this step more times than I’m comfortable admitting.

Sip tea pensively while looking for what to wear to work. Weather promises to be cool and rainy, meeting with boss today. am angling for a raise, need to look competent but knid of cuddly because this is marketing. Corporate manic pixie dream girl ahoy! Uhgh. Body is transitioning back down from progesterone peak (it’s the placebo week on birth control, whee) and I’m no longer a puffy Dom, just a spotty one. Black tights, over not so nice undies (reason implied) in last sentence. Okay, skirt day. Polkadot matron dress? Too formal. White blouse over new white bra, layer with plaid dress pinafore style. Workable.  Brush hair. Earrings are already in ears, pearl studs. Wet weather means freshly redyed (hides grey) hair has plenty of body but lots of poof. Debate buzzing my hair, non seriously. Wish sub a good day, hop off to work.

Windows to the Soul

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If you can't say it with words, say it with memes!I feel happy when I can take care of stuff by myself. So I went out and fetched myself a ladder from the hardware store so I could safely change a lightbulb or two. Because I am short and have poor balance (my Mummy says I’m top heavy ‘cuz of all the brains), I reasoned that I needed more than the stepladder everyone was telling me to pick up. Quite correct, I did *not* want to be the posthumous punchline in a joke about how many dominants it took to change a lightbulb or rely further on tall friends.

My apartment, though lovely, have very little natural light. Think living in the bottom of a lightwell or a basement. It’s got excellent privacy, but this gets dark at times. One other draw back about my wonderful life I feel embarrassed to talk about is the window problem…

Or rather the people on the other side of the window problem.

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Other Places to Go Round Up II

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Life’s carrying on well enough. Montreal’s wrapped in a blanket of humidity. Strong packed off, leaving a few lingering traces, I went back to my desk job and found little had advanced in my absence. There’s interesting challenges there, including tightening up my resume and planning my summer. I have pretty much all I want… in the planning/preparing stage of things.

So, linky-link time!

 

Submissive Guy Comics

 

Submissive Guy Comics is worth a peek for their light hearted, cuddly and cozy look at D/s

Domme Chronicles  has a great post written by Audio Diva on a happy D/s relationship to give F/m some positive role models.

Dumb Domme has some particularly amusing things to say about aftercare.

Dishevelled Domina, on the other hand is taking a hard look at the lumps that end up in her inbox, in several blog posts.

 

Femdom Role Model

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For me, the paucity of female dominants creates another problem. Specifically  as much as I argue against the idea that a mentor is a requirement, scarcity allows for definition of the role by the few, and this is a role with very few people in it indeed, the most vocal of which are paid to dominate.

So from the outside, way back before I got heavily involved in doing it, the whole thing looked, not like a barrel of fun and horniness, but somewhere between goth playboy bunny and indulgent girlfriend.

The pageantry  protocol and fetishware do no help to an outsider- while femsub gets constant reinvention (even if standards referenced by The Story of O still hold pretty fast for something first published in 1954 and translated to English in the mid-sixties). There is also, paradoxically  a lot more agency of actual women in building the fantasy. Gor might have been the wank of a male philosophy prof, but everything from Story of O through to 50 Shades has a female author getting her wank on, and one mustn’t neglect all the stops along the way in the highly fertile genre of romance, heavily seeded with women writing for female consumption.

But what about me, a dom?

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Bones and Flesh and Pressure Points, Sex.

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The photography is by someone called Pauline Darly

An almost half year dry spell marked my Divorce’s conclusion. For a variety of reasons I waited a long time to try all those basic aspects of the flesh. It was not without encouragement to the contrary, as friends and even Strong tried to coax me to find someone or something to fill the ah… breach. I got lectured on zipless, no strings fucks, coaxed to try dating again, etc… But the flesh recoiled at the thought. There’s particular ways it needs to be touched and more to the point, I need there to be respect and the time it takes to vet another human being for that sort of thing is extensive.

And yet, Saying sex and pain are, for me inseparable concepts, both makes me sound like I’m talking about chronic vaginismus and does not capture the nuances of how I experience it. I’m talking hands on sadomasochism.

So, sex. It’s about touch, really, light touches, hard touches, scrapes of nails, stinging slaps, pressure, joints straining and for me, the sort of push that digs to the bone. To have and be touched is a wonderful thing. And I’m enraptured by smell and texture, that clean sex musk, the veins beneath the skin and the softness of the skin that wraps a cock.

And for me, pain. To hurt and be hurt. I adore the way that after your body has been primed, the weight of the last hurt drags into even the lightest caress, so that your whole body sensitizes and touch becomes more than how it was before there was pain. And there’s the noises, the facial expressions, the changes of posture are all extremely erotic to me. Pain is such a raw thing to have, creating a suffusion through the flesh from where ever it has been triggered.

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