Real Life Again & Emotional Health

As mentioned, I’ve just come back from an Alaskan cruise, a family thing that was well appreciated but kept me away all last week. Despite the ability to create your own event (LGBT, friends of Bill W.) I resisted the urge to organize a floating munch. Wildcard insisted on using banked time to drive me to the airport and picking me up after. He brought my much beloved but bedraggled teddy bear to meet me by way of greeting. I spent the time working on me, with exercise and yoga and trying to meditate beside the pool and getting to know my largely absent father.

Wildcard had a crap time in my absence. Probably because I left him my summer cold for his already weakened immune system to wrangle, but also because he’s rather attached to his regular supply of snuggles. While I was away, he played with “Princess”. She ended the session in a crying mini panic attack not because he was hurting her, but because of his desire to know about what she wanted. Faced with the possibility of her own happiness, a yawning, overwhelming sense of inadequacy and failure took her out at the back of the knees. He comforted her, but she remained embarrassed Telling him “You and Pearl are so effortlessly cool and together, she feels so stupid losing it!”

He laughed, this is hardly unfamiliar territory for him… Or me. We often accidentally give the impression that we have a sort of infinite reserve of poise- its not unusual for people to confess how dominant and unassailable I seem, but the reality is a lot more mundane, from giggles and skip-hopping about to wallowing in insecurity. This is not unusual; my kinky friends are no more or less nuts than my vanilla ones, which is to say a good measure of both camps have doctors fine tuning our brain chemicals via a daily dose, while a bunch more really should be being looked after properly. We make do.

Last summer shit got nasty for me: food became inedible- I was unemployed, in the best shape of my life from trying to run my feelings off, and absolutely miserable. I took it as responsibly as I could, to a doctor to deal with to triage the immense and inexplicable pain I was feeling. Citalopram and therapy helped, definitely more so than the exercise had.

I’m upright again, a little plumper and better centred, and also employed, the latter most important in the unrelenting world of adult bills. Feeding you guy’s desire to read my stuff ain’t cheap.Trying to sum that up got me thinking- I feel like one of the big challenges is that the mundane of (kinky) life tends to get lost in making a narrative. You hear about me playing with Wildcard- not so much the sex dead week where one of us feels like the idea of anything other than vegging with a screen is a step too far to consider. You see little glimpses of ecstasy, you miss the weekend when I come back when he’s in a little self castigating spiral of doom because he’s too busy feeling like a bad boyfriend because he’s not in the mood for sex to notice I’m feeling sore, bloated and fragile, hardly horny at all.

I trailed comicon with the company of someone I see as effortless cool. Let’s call her “Tattoos”. Gosh, I thought. I hope she wants to be friends with me. She’s so funny and pretty! Tats, meanwhile was struck by my dominance and having a hard time internally not calling me “Miss” and kneeling.

I, of course, don’t see it. I see my often cheerful, consistently awkward self. Which of course gets complimented as confidence, as what is my own obliviousness or mechanical social performance doesn’t have a disclaimer to outside observers. Such is life.

 

My Kind of Femdom Romance

Tuesday: I walk home in the light drizzle of the late evening, stress of the day like a pack of rocks on my shoulders. I think bad, self pitying thoughts, feeling bereft, ignored and insignificant. My phone is an insistent white glare in my hand, as I truly to sort out someone’s problem for them. Up the front steps and into the entrance hall, the smell that envelopes me is warm and savoury. In the kitchen I hear a small thump, turn and see that he’s kneeling.

He’s naked on the tile, tawny and lean and male. I feel a little clutch of guilt, because I seem to enjoy poisoning my own happiness. I tell him I’m not that hungry- I ate earlier. I warn him I’m stressed, he might not get beaten. He takes it, accepting, pets me. I peel off down to my panties, white with rutching at the hips and tight little black bows, find something at fault with my body in the mirror and push aside my current obsession with the girth of my hips to put my attention back on him.

A flop heavy into the rumpled blankets into the bed. He makes me smile with his patience, makes up a plate of his own dinner and coaxes me to try some sweet potato from his fingers. Delicious. He talks self consciously about the sugar content, talking about his cooking knowledge. I steal another piece from his fork as he brings it to his mouth, walk to the kitchen and try little bites of the leftovers.

He finishes his meal and I push him back into the pillows, hands to his wrists. I ask him how he’s feeling.

He confesses his fantasies, describing how he’d thought about being left in a stand up cage, blindfolded, for any woman to enjoy. My voice becomes a lure and a lead, taking this thread and winding it about him. Very soon his eyes are covered and my hangs are roaming, pinching and exploring as I make the fantasy as real as possible.

My hand smacks almond shaped hand prints into the cheeks of his ass, and his cock is massive, head beaded with precum. I leave him blindfolded and tell him about how one of the women would tug him to the bars and pull his hard cock through the gap, as I take him into my mouth.

He wants to come. I make him edge for me instead, until I’m sure he can’t get any harder, until he’s panting with desperation. When he was blindfolded I already saw him writhing about, now his hang is gripping my soft thigh, hard.

Just before he comes I tell him “if you do I get to do whatever I want to you”. I like that extra little jolt of fear- he’s not sure if he’s heard me, but its past the point of no return.

His come ends up in my mouth, down my throat, and he’s already screaming before the spurting starts. He’s past coherence, past profanity, even sounding pained. Post orgasm, he’s a stunned mess.

The gusset of my panties is wet, soaked through. After he recovers he wants me to come, and uses his hands and his voice to help me. We have sex this way a lot- its very intimate, lots of touching and lots of control for me. When I come we end up tangled into a perfect cuddle.

I’m at peace, all the stress of the day washed away, wanting nothing more than to hold and be held by what’s mine.

Reader Letter: New Femdom Tips

letter2This reader popped in with a quick couple of questions all focused around the perennial need for new femdom tips. every one of us were knew once, so I’ve taken the time to give some advice I wish I’d had over a decade ago. so, first, their letter:

Dear Miss Pearl:

I just discovered your blog and i love it! I was doing research on femdom and I have been down the rabbit hole since a month ago. I need your advice: I have just (virtually) conected with a guy via a popular dating website. He’s very cute and he seems to be very much into me (my curves). Anyways, while talking to him it came up that he loves being dominated by women, and he especially likes facesitting, verbal and physical humiliation, body worship, and scissoring. He has never acted on his fantasies. This was all new to me, but through online research I got very turned on at the idea of participating into something like this. How do I go on about it? How do I ensure that I am confident enough to carry out domination roles? I have some ideas, and I love teasing (both physically and psychologically) but I guess I need some real advice for newbies.

Newbie dom guides are a still an underserved subject, particularly for women.

Although a lot of good authors have given the kinky manual their best shot with things like “The New Topping Book”, as my reader astutely observed, there is a distinct lack of advice for new femdoms. Some efforts are made- The Mistress Manual is definitely your dominatrix DIY go to if you just want to fit the porn and professional archetype really well, but as a new female dominant who is not hanging out your shingle to work/just trying to keep someone else happy, the trick is striking the balance between your own fulfillment and feeling desired by your partner. So moving beyond how a stereotypical femdom acts:

The good and bad news is that there’s no one right way to do it. However, there’s a few general things that every new dom can use for starters:

1) It’s About You – Part of cultivating a version of dominance that makes you happy is finding the aspects and behaviors that work for you and eliminating the ones that do nothing. Generally a lot of guys have their own submissive fantasies, but some of the inertia has to come from what you get out of it- a good lover will generally be happiest if you are getting what you want too. Remember you make you a dom- you don’t get that way by following a script, whether supplied by stereotypes or your sub.

With that, you should think about the outcomes that make you happy. Whether its witnessing whimpering male cuteness/helpless lust, or the chuffed feeling of leading, you need to define what it means to you to feel dominant and use your partner’s help to achieve that state.

2) Slow and Steady – When you get started, pace yourself with a little bit at a time Talk about ideas you find sexy in the bedroom as dirty talk, try light bondage and less complicated things like a gentle spanking. You can always add more if you like it, but if you try to leap into instant Fetish Queen mode you may discover that focusing on getting it right kills the mood. It is not that I think that BDSM is a big scary thing that will end in explosions and police if you make one wrong move, its if you make your goals small you will feel more confident and thus come across as more dominant.

3) Trust Your Intuition, But Talk About It – Dominance is balancing what you find fun with what you know to be his limits. Trust your intuition, but have safewords and measures in place so you are comfortable pulling the plug if things go in the wrong direction. A good part of the work behind having successful kink scenes (kinky encounters, sexual or otherwise, basically) is reading your submissive partner’s reaction- look for vulnerable but hopeful body language as you “yaye!” and stiffening, looking awkward and so on as your early red flag. Learning to dominate someone is about drawing the response you want out of someone. Therefore trust and nurture your instincts when it comes to pulling back or pushing harder, but also don’t be afraid to discuss it after the fact.

4) Understand that Fantasy and Reality Are Not Perfect Mirrors – One of the biggest let downs people get from kink is going into it with the expectation that everything will work out like their imagination says it will. The reality is that we often fetishize things a bit too extreme to be sensible, or the sensations in our head aren’t a perfect match for the real thing and so on. When playing with noobs, have patience and discourage them from over committing. With your new guy, chances are a happy dom woman is Aphrodite herself ascending from the heavens and you make get a stage of Promise All The Things and Try All The Things. Feel free to pull rank and refer back to Slow and Steady as per advice #2.

5) Build From What Works –You both like tease and denial? Fabulous! That gives you a great foundation to build from, experimenting with something you both know is good for you. If you want to try adding new things, try combining aspects of your favourite activities with the new thing- for example if you want to try obedience games, try having him be teased until he promises you something and surrenders a forfeit. Although there is a time and place for “Honey, tonight we are going to try latex!”, its good to have a mix of tried and trues and well as novelties.

6) Don’t Let Being a Dom Box You In. There is no non-dominant sexual acts or feelings. It can be particularly tempting to try to play the part of the perfectly in control uber dom who knows no human attachment and hasn’t cracked a smile in the last century. Be you. You are the dom, and if that person is giggly, prone to crying easily, or likes penetrative intercourse or wearing kitty ears or whatever, doing things the way you like is more dominant than trying to be someone you aren’t.

On Being a Femdom Unicorn

So, the thing about being a non-pro female dominant, especially one that’s vaguely conventionally attractive or has something approaching a civil personality, is that you are, in effect, a lot of people’s unicorn.

The problem with being a unicorn, is that it often ends up being an unlikely stand in for an actual fully fleshed out human being. For example, if you’re a femdom, some guys go their whole lives dreaming of someone just like you, while trying to convince other kinds of horse to wear a horn for them. Many of them have come to terms with the fact that they’ll probably never meet a ‘real’ femdom, and may even be convinced that the only way they’ll ever touch one is if they pay vast amounts of money to rent time with, or share her. You’re elusive, mysterious and probably, in their minds, just about mythical. They may even have their own personal beliefs that only someone who is true and pure of heart in some way can attract you, or draw your true form, where it was trapped in the body of a normal women, or come up with curious theories about your motivations and powers.

So, it’s not unusual for sub and switch identifying guys to flip their lids on meeting me. Heck,  a lot of these guys, still unable to imagine having me via the limits of geography or age, seem to be brightened just knowing people like me are out there. They’ve caught a glimpse of magic, and that’s enough to help them believe. You’d think it would be endlessly great for the ego. I’m special, right?

But the flip side about that is that you meet a lot of people with big expectations for what it’s going to be like and no ability to deal with the real you. These guys basically have put so much time imagining what unicorns are like, and what they enjoy, and how to make them happy, that when one comes clopping into their reality, said unicorn can find herself simultaneously fawned on… and rejected.

It’s lonely.

You see, with no actual experience with unicorns, theses guys have done a lot of thinking and planning about what it might be like. With all those poor other horses that just couldn’t measure up, any problem that appeared was blamed on the lack of a real horn. Meanwhile their expectations for what unicorns are like has been entirely fed by art, and stories, and poems, and people who do a great job wearing the horn for love or money and know all sorts of pretty tricks. Unicorns are imagined as trip-trapping about on rainbows, milk white and glowing like the moon, magnificent, fierce and deadly. Your average random unicorn chaser is not quite ready to deal with the fact that his unicorn might in fact be a piebald hack with a pointy bit.

And if you are a femdom, that horn just grew there and it’s not like you were trying to be the Twilight Sparkle of sex on purpose. It’s not particularly magical for you- often it’s been a major draw back in relationships where the guy wanted a delicate foal to tame with tenderness or some mane tossing pony or massive and sturdy plough beast. But try as you might, that horn was always poking in ways that couldn’t be ignored- that thirst for submission demands that even a genuinely awesome vanilla boyfriend couldn’t quench it. Quite likely, you’ve tried all sorts of things, from wrapping it in a pillow to filing it down so you could be just a normal kind of horse.

But the unicorn chasers aren’t actually natural unicorn riders- the thing that you are looking for is just as much a unicorn for you. So it’s very easy to find yourself a chaser who gets desperately enamored on the spot and… fizzling out as soon as they actually realize that horns are kinda sharp and ouchy. Or who is so into the fantasy ideas that surrounded their idea of what a unicorn is, that they start dressing you up in a desperate attempt to make you fit- a little glitter here, a little hyperbolic behavioral attributions about your “piercing dominant gaze” there- and you’re left with the guy still asking you to wear a fake horn over your real one.

You also get very familiar with people who have thought long and hard about how they are going to deal with the horn, but have put no thought into the rest of the animal- for example shyly explaining that they’ll try any of the fetishes they think you have, but they can’t promise they’ll like them. They’re just stuff that they heard comes attached along with the horn- yeah, they’ll *try* strapon sex because that’s how every femdom gets her kicks and how else will they end up in women’s panties? They *suppose* they like the idea of being beaten or forced bi- it’s always been hot to masturbate to, so, yaye? You get a lot of people who think that just having a unicorn shaped hole in their life will cause you to embed, like it was a you specific vacuum.

Or they get super into it and then burn out, because they are trying to be the perfect sub… and then poof, the day in, day out aspect of living with a unicorn means that they realize that anything magical was very common place. And being a femdom, in real life, is just like being a regular kind of horse, only stabby. And sometimes you end up feeling that a lot of people would rather want a femdom unicorn they can’t have and imagine the stabbings, than deal with the inevitable hooves, tail and impalement every day.