29 January 2011


Is there respect for the submissive or male within an FLR?

Someone who reads my blogs (and it is always nice to hear from you or read your comments on the things that I write *smiles*) asked me this question with regards to respect within an FLR and do I respect the boy or any submissive that I may have?

My answer is: of course!

Why would I not?

For me there is no difference between the "vanilla", D/s, or FLRs, there is a place but more so an essential need for respect within any relationship.   A relationship without respect in my opinion cannot exist, or if it does, it isn't a particularly healthy or positive relationship, it is not a relationship that would work for me, and I would not want to be within a relationship where mutual respect was not a part. 

Just because someone chooses to submit, it doesn't mean that I would not respect them . . .why would I not?

It takes courage to do submit, it takes courage to hand over yourself to someone else, placing yourself, your life into their hands.  It isn't an easy thing to do, knowing that this other person will make all of the decisions within your life, giving up such a level of control is a huge step, one that takes courage and that on its own deserves respect.

Being submissive or submitting isn't weak, it isn't a sign of weakness at all.  It does take strength to do it, courage to do it, and I will always respect the submissive, what the submissive chooses to do in his submission.  I will always be proud of them.

I can understand why some people find it difficult to understand, the existence of respect within a Femdom, D/s or FLR relationship, after all, it is the males choice to ultimately want to give up the "traditional" male role. But making that choice doesn't mean respect goes out of the windoe.

But whatever he may do, whatever he may be asked to do, whatever he may be "forced" to do I would and always will respect him.  He deserves respect for the person that he is first and foremost, for the submissive that he is . . .for the submission that he shows.

Everyone needs or deserves to be respected for who and what they are, for what they do or choose to do.  Yes he may choose to be submissive, yes he may choose to live within a relationship where the female makes all the rules and he lives by them, but he still deserves respect . . .it still warrants respect. It isn't so much respecting the act of submission, it is respecting the person who submits.

And just as the submissive deserves to be respected, it doesn't take away from the fact that the male sub, the male within an FLR will still long, want, need or yearn for the respect of his wife, of his Mistress, of his Dominant.  They just want to be controlled or led by a female. That choice warrants and deserves respect too.  And just because someone is Dominant, doesn't mean that they do not have to earn respect or do not want to be respected either.

A sub hands their life over to the Dominant female, a man within an FLR lives under the rules of the female, not every man can do this, not every man wants to do it and that is perfectly ok,  but those who have the need to do it, the man that has the courage to do it, deserves to be respected just as much as any man within a vanilla based relationship, just as much as a female submissive does, just as much as any person does, in any type of relationship.

Yes there maybe times when we lose respect for another, but that is through actions, as a result of something else, it doesn't mean that the respect wasn't there to begin with, it doesn't mean that the respect wasn't earned, real or valid. 

But the reality to me, for me, is that it is the person that deserves the respect, not because they dominate, not because they submit, not because they do X, Y, or Z, but simply because they are them, because of what they do, because of who and what they are.
And that is why I will always have respect for the boy, my submissive.

28 January 2011

I want to hurt you

I want to hurt you.

And you know it.

But I know that you want me to and that makes me to not want to hurt you.

How sadistic is that?

Yet I know that I will. And you know it too. 

I wonder if you will want it then?

I want to make you cry.

And you know it too, and I hope that if you do, that you don't beg me to stop.

I won't stop.

Standing there

He stands there naked.

His eyes gazing down at the floor and I can see how desperate he is to look up, yet not daring to. I can see the strain in the side of his face as he is forcing himself not to raise his gaze, the raised veins in his temples as he grits and grinds his teeth through the nervous fear of the unknown. 

Every so often a shiver runs across him as the coolness of the air hits the heat of his naked skin.  I can clearly see the goosebumps that form on his skin from where I am standing, beads of sweat building up on his forehead and back.

His legs slightly apart. Arms down but away from his sides. Occasionally his toes wriggle as a sign of his nerves. 

The passing time has taught me how to read him, I know when he is nervous, I know how he curls up his big toes as if trying to get a grip on the floor, as if it is going to stop whatever may come his way, the way his jaw when his mouth is closed moves slightly from side to side with tension.

But this time, he looked unsure. Embarrassed even as my eyes bored holes straight through him as I stare.

I look him up and down, tilting my head from one side to another as I look at all that is mine, knowing what I am going to do in my own mind but determined to draw this time out, to witness his fear, his nerves, the anticipation, his arousal.   He shifts a little from being stared at in this way, I can tell from the redness of his face that he is feeling humiliated of my inspection of him. 

I smile at his discomfort.  His vulnerability. I continue to stare.

No words, no touch, no sound, no anything.

I can tell he is growing more nervous the longer he remains there, and I want to go to him to tell him "it's ok".

But I don't. I don't want to reassure him yet, to lull him into a false sense of security ahead of what may come. 

I want to drink all of him in, watching his reactions, the feelings as they course through his body, the fear of the unknown, the nerves, the humiliation of being studied so intently.

Watching him, the feelings flow around my own self, the wanting and longing to touch him, to tease him, to hurt him, to kiss him, to hold him, just to whisper in his ear, for us to fuck with the urgency and need that we have had from the first time that we met.  Watching the battle going on within his head, his own arousal, his humiliation, his fears, arouses me.

I say nothing. I do nothing. I just stand and stare and make an occasional "hmmmmm" as I take in every part of him, my mind racing with all of the images of the things I want to do to him, to inflict upon him. 

"Turn around for me"

He does so, shifting nervously knowing that now he will not even be able to see my feet on the floor where his gaze has been fixed for the time he has been stood there.  His shoulders twitch nervously, he slightly loses his balance so I tell him to spread his legs wider.

I stand, clothed behind him, and simply stand there and watch. 

Knowing the reactions his body will always have, the room is silent, yet it is like I can hear all the things that are running through his mind. 

Taking a couple of steps towards him, he can feel my breath upon his neck, I sense the shiver over his body as he feels it, the anticipation of what to come is coursing through his body. I lean forward and gently whisper into his ear

"Spread your legs baby"

He does so. 

His gaze still towards the floor but I can see from the movement of his face that his eyes have slightly turned as he seeks to look at me where I am stood behind his shoulder.  I run the tip of my fingernail down his spine, the nail just tentatively touching his skin, kissing his neck as I do so.  He shivers once again and a groan escapes from his body.  I know just what he is feeling and I laugh as his cock begins to twitch.

"Your body betrays you" I say to him, as I laugh a little more.  His cheeks redden at the embarrassment of being aroused by such humiliation, of such inspection, of the fear that he is feeling.  He doesn't speak. He knows to remain silent.

Reaching through his legs which are now spread I take hold of his balls and squeeze gently, I feel his body tense, his cock begin to twitch, I twist them, hearing the grasp of his breath. "Oh, does that hurt?" a slight nod of his head mixed with a little shake, his mind confused as to whether it hurts him or not.  I twist them hard and sharp and he groans and moans.

His cock now hard from arousal, his breathing shallow, his body quivering, his eyes still focussed on the floor.  I reach around him with my other hand, taking his cock in my hand.

"Oh my baby is all hard and aroused". Again I laugh, moving my hand backwards and forwards, slowly masturbating his cock even harder, his breathing changes.  And I feel his body tense more and still he looks down, his body beginning to shake a little more from the arousal and anticipation. 

"oh please . . . " he whispers, his voice stuttering as I grip him harder and move my hand faster up the shaft of his cock.  Pre-cum leaks from the end of his cock, I touch it with my finger, bringing it up to his mouth, "Open wide for me" and he does so, hungrily taking my finger into his mouth, sucking and licking.  And it gets me, right there, right in the pit of my stomach.

"Oh my baby is such a slut" I laugh as I say it, once again his cheeks redden, he is so easy to embarrass and humiliate with words as if he is ashamed of the things that arouse him, as if it is wrong.  "It's ok baby" I whisper into his ear, my hand still moving up and down the shaft of his cock, lubricated by the pre-cum, "don't be ashamed, don't be embarrassed that you're such a slut"

His cock strains at the names he is called and I can tell from his growing arousal, from the depth of his breath, from the straining within his cock, the tensing of his body that he is not far from release; a release I do not want him to have yet.  "No baby, you're not going to come for me yet" I say gently, I hear a sigh of frustration, a deep breath of longing and I feel myself fill with feelings for him, towards him, about him, knowing that I have such control over him, something that arouses me too.

I stop, letting go of his cock, and my hand stroking the cheeks of his arse, and I feel him tense, as if he knows what is coming and is fearful of it, wanting it, yet fearing it.  And as I stand there to his side, I reach up and slap his cheek for stopping me from probing into his arse.  I don't know what sends the feelings through me more, the glazed look in his eyes as his head falls away from the sting of my palm, the gasp that comes from his mouth, or the way his cock reacted to the slap of my palm against his cheek.

"Don't stop me" I whisper to him.

And as his eyes continue to roll, as they glaze over and he is in a different place, I feel his body relaxing, the cheeks of his arse becoming softer, and I probe with my finger.

He gasps and groans as I enter him, teasing inside him with one finger.  And his breathing quickens and shortens, and his cock twitches, and he groans and begs.

"Oh god, please, please let me come" he begs, his eyes seek imploringly, desperate to hear the "Yes you may", but his ears do not hear that right now.  And I can sense his desperation, his arousal, his longing.

"Not yet baby, you know what is coming don't you?"

He shakes his head, and he looks like a little child being denied a sweet, and his face looks so sad, he looks so young and vulnerable right then and I want to hold him and touch him, and tell him it's ok. 

And I love him for it, for his vulnerability, and I've loved him for it from the first moment that we met. And I love him for just how he reacts and his openness and that how his body betrays his mind, his emotions, his feelings and his inner self. And I love how during the time we have shared that he has opened himself to me so much and in so many ways.

"Kneel down for me baby" and he knows just what to do, as he leans forward on his elbows and rests his forehead against the rug on the floor. 

He spreads his legs, knowing what is to come, and I can tell that he is nervous, but his body continues to betray his arousal.

I laugh outloud.

I know that he will feel humiliated as I stand behind him inspecting his arse from a slight distance, I know that just as he did when he stood before me that he will be embarrassed as I take in all of his body.

I want to keep him there just like that, for always.  Like a statue to look at forever, his body, his arousal, his reactions, his vulnerability, his longings, his desires on display for ever.

And his body is inviting me in, but I want to keep him there just like that, just so I can look at him in that way for always, just while I decide what I want or don't want to do with him.  A living statue, a beautiful statue of submission and devotion, a beatiful picture of arousal and love, something that I could touch, or lean on, something I could slap, or crop each time I walk past, something I could put my feet upon while I sit and relax, using him like a table or a footstool.  Something that I could explore with my fingers, fuck with a toy, paddle or tease. 

And I want to take him right there and then, and I want us to fuck on the floor like we did the first time we met.  And I am thinking of that right now, of how it felt, of the shock that he had when he realised that it wasn't just going to be the normal sex that he had always known.

"Are you ok baby" I ask, standing from a distance. 


"Tell me, how much you want this, how much you need it"

"I want you"

I smile.

"I want you too baby"

He smiles.

"I need you"

I smile again.

"I want you and need you . . . " "Oh god I need you". "I adore you . . ." as he gushes with lots of declarations of needs and wants and love. And I smile at him and god I want him so much too.

And his body shivers, and my body responds and hearing him say this goes straight to my cunt.

I walk up to him, standing behind him, and take the large butt plug that is on the table, rubbing lube all over and around the plug. I place it at the tight entrance to his arse, he starts to tense and I slap his cheeks so damn hard with my hand that my hand stings and burns. He cries out in pain and surprise.

"Don't stop me baby, you need this just as you need me, now open yourself to me"

And like the good boy that he is, he spreads his legs, offering himself to me, using his hands to spread his cheeks so I have all the access that I need.  I lean forward and slowly push the plug inside him, he gasps and cries out. 

"Oh my god, I can't take it, I can't take this."

"Take it for me baby, take it all for me"

And I slowly push the plug deep into his depths, and he cries with each little push, and I can feel it stretching him to a limit we haven't explored as yet. 

"Good boy, you're such a good boy baby"

And between his gasps and his whimpers I hear a broken "thank you" and he is still there, his legs spread, his head still down on the floor and he is gasping and crying out and he is moaning and groaning, and I continue to push the plug deep inside of him, and I hear a gentle sob come from him and that hits me even more. 

"It's nearly there baby", I say gently encouraging him to hold on, but not intending to stop.

"It hurts, oh my god it hurts so badly, I can't take any more."

"I know baby, I know it hurts, but it feels so good doesn't it?"

I do not give him time to answer, instead I push it in more, and he lets out the deepest of groans and his cock is hard and dripping with cum, and his head starts to move up from the floor as his body begins to move and I know that he is losing himself to the moment of pain, of arousal, of being stretched and filled and that his fear and nerves have all melted away as he drifts off to the place of taking it all, of pleasing, of wanting it.  And he groans and moans, and gasps and he cries out, his body almost being wracked with the sobs as the tears fall from his eyes.

And god, seeing him hurt in this way, taking it, giving himself over to the moment to me, makes me want to hurt him all the more, and it makes me feel for him all the more. And I can feel my own arousal, my own needs screaming in my head.

"That's it baby, take it all for me now, you're doing so well baby"

The plug is almost in to its depth, and I love how his arsehole has stretched and I pull the plug out gently so I can see just how much he has opened himself to me, and I take his cock in my hand and start to move my hand up and down the shaft, harder and faster and as I push the plug deep back into his arse hard and fast and his cock twitches "OH FUCK!" he screams out and I laugh.

And his breathing gets faster and his cock gets harder and his body begins to move and as he arches his back as beads of sweat break out on his forehead and his beautiful back.

"Come for me baby"

"Oh god" he cries out

And as his cum spurts from his cock, his body arches even more and he shudders as I continue to move my hand up and down his cock as he continues to spurt and shudder.

The plug still deep within his arse. 

He is spent, his body shaking and shivering as he curls into a ball on the floor.  I sit down, bringing him into my arms, stroking his head gently as he places it into my lap, as he slowly comes back into the here and now.  And as he looks up to me, I smile, his eyes still glazed as he smiles back, still lost to the pain of being filled, but the pleasure of the release from the intensity of his orgasm that I have granted him.

I lean forward and kiss the top of his head. And I love him for what he gives to me, and I love him for all I can take from him.

"Oh baby, you did so well"

"Thank you" he smiles as he closes his eyes with a long deep breath in and out as his body relaxes and recovers. And I hold him close while he comes back to me knowing that this is just the start.

A wonderful moment not to be forgotten.

I haven't.

26 January 2011

head . . bang . . .wall . . .!

The boy, has a habit of asking questions.

And that is fine, in the right way, at the right time, the boy can ask whatever he likes.  He knows that if there's something he wishes to ask specifically that he will ask permission to ask a question.

But sometimes . . . sometimes you are just left wondering why he has just asked the same question for the 10th time!  Or, why has he just asked the question that he has . . .

I can sometimes sit here and literally shake my head in disbelief at him asking the same question he's asked before again. Or asking a question which really is beyond silly.  Sometimes it can be just like a child who doesn't realise they have asked it before, or that they have, but the answer just hasn't sunk in!

The boy has been given a written task for his most recent punishment, fitting for the reason he was given, especially as the boy had been expecting to be on the receiving end of some pain or similar just as he had been before.  But no, the boy is completing a written task about a certain punishment that he will then be on the receiving end at the end of the time limit for the task.

He was given plenty of opportunity to ask questions, whatever ones he needed to so that he understood what has been asked of him, of what he is to do.

I wondered at the time how long it would be until he began asking questions, I knew in all honesty it wouldn't be long. 

It wasn't. 

It was 48 hours.

Sometimes I wonder if the boy takes in the things that he is told or asked to do.  He is well aware of the fact I like detail, I like things done properly and would expect nothing less, and I am happy to answer questions he may ask, but when I gave him the time to do so, and made sure he had no other questions. 

It is quite literally like banging your head against a brick wall and well, a little frustrating at times!

But even then, when he was asking the question, he kept insisting that I had said something about how to do it, when I hadn't at all.  And I kept saying to him that I didn't say that, and it was like it wasn't even entering into his head!

The boy, will learn to listen to instructions, to take it in, to make notes if necessary.  He will also learn, that his asking questions when he was given the earlier opportunity will not help him, in fact, will only add to the planned punishment that he is facing at the end of the written task.

The boy will learn. 

It may be the hard way, but he will get there in the end.

But I felt like banging my head against the brick wall when last nights questions came. 

Even to the point where only a couple of hours earlier he commented that he had read my blog and wouldn't be asking that question again . . .only to then, be asking the same question but with different words a short time later.

Now where is that wall? 

Cock envy!

The boy has written in his blog several times about his fantasies in relation to strap ons ~ it even inspired me to write my own blog entry which you can find HERE 

I am not normally inspired a great deal to think about strap ons, let alone to want to write about them or have an "urge" to use one. 

I haven't really been inspired to divulge in them either.

I don't know why. I just haven't.  Strange really when I have such a love for anything "anal", but such is life.  There are other things that I do think of, and that suits me fine.  It doesn't bother me that I am not drawn to something.

I like what I like, when I like. End of.

But, the thought of having a cock, having the potential to hurt, to use, to give pleasure is one that IS appealing. I do like that thought, I know I would like that feeling . . . but, it is the lack of "feeling" that comes (or doesn't come which is more the case) with a strap on, that doesn't make me want to rush out and put one on!

I like to feel the pain or the pleasure I inflict, and what can you feel with a strap on?

There are no nerve endings, no sensitivity, nothing . . .

I don't like the "nothing". 

I don't want the "nothing"

It's like an empty promise, a promise of pleasure, but a pleasure I can never really make happen . . .I want to give pleasure, I want to be able to fuck him and hard, I want to be able to force my way deep into him. 

But, I want to TAKE pleasure too.  

But, the only way I could do that, is by having a cock, not having something strapped on.

Cock envy?



I have so many thoughts, so many visions, so many "desires" of the things I want to force onto the boy.

These thoughts are so damn hot, but also, involve so much more.  Violence. Sexual violence. My being able to get off on forcing him, shoving into him, hurting him and not really caring about him, about anything apart from using him to make me come, using him for my pleasure in the way that I want to.

Men can take pleasure or give pleasure with their cocks, they can make someone get off but against their will, they have the ability to just "use" for their pleasure.  And that is what is so damn hot and that is why I have cock envy!

I want that ability to use the boy for my pleasure.  

I want to be able to use the boy in all of the ways that feature in those dark places within my mind. 

And yes, my mind does take me there, to those dark places, ones of unfeeling use, ones of sexual violence along with no concern for the recipient. And that is what I want, that when I am in those dark places I just want to use him, to use him for my pleasure.  With a complete detachment and no interest for him.  To take no notice of his cries, his screams, his begging.

As my dark thoughts run through the depths of my mind I find myself in darker places, and if I had a real cock.  You know, a real flesh and blood cock, Oh my GOD! I would be using it non-stop. 

I would be forcing it into the boy at any opportunity, at EVERY opportunity. Not just his arse or into his mouth, face fucking him deep into this throat.  No, I'd be using it everywhere, rubbing it everywhere, thrusting it into him deep and hard, making him cry and scream but feeling every single part of it.  Rubbing up against him, between his legs, in his underarms, between his arse cheeks . . .everywhere . . .

And mostly, I would be fucking his arse, stretching him with my long hard cock, hearing him beg for me to stop, filling his arse with the cock and the cum from it.  Forcing my way into his mouth, down into the back of his throat, pulling his head further onto it to make him gag.  Making him cry tears, making him heave.

Pushing him to the ground taking him however I want to, forcing myself onto him, into him, whenever, or however I want.

And the thought is hot!

And the thought turns me on.

But that is what I want, in the depths of the dark places of my mind, but I want to feel it.

And the way I want to feel it.

I will never be able to.

So yes, I have cock envy!

But you don't get that do you?

Sometimes it is not easy hearing from someone from the past. 

No matter how good things were. Or even if things weren't good.  Hearing things that you didn't hear back then, you really don't want to hear them now.

Not now. Not some 15 years later. 

It doesn't change anything. It doesn't make what happened any easier.  It just brings things to the surface that don't need to be there, that I do NOT want there.

I don't want to hear how different things could have been.  They weren't different.  They didn't change. That is exactly why it was over so long ago. 

Not even the passing of years can change that. 

But the passing of years has changed me. Not so much changed me. I don't mean that.  I have always tried to be true to myself, to who I was, to who I am.  But the passing of the years has enabled me to find an understanding of myself, to know what it is that I want or need and how to get it.  It has enabled me to know what I want or need from life, from my relationships, and how to really be the person that I am. 

But you don't get that do you?

The passing of time has enabled me to see why things were as they were, why they didn't work. It has enabled me to know that what we had, was never, nor would it have ever been enough.  It enabled me to see that I wasn't truly the person that I am, that I was restricted by the bounds of the relationship we had.  That the life you had envisaged, would never have been the life I ever truly wanted. 

It is why, things ended the way they did, when they did.

But you just don't get that do you?

You wouldn't understand just how much I have grown, that I am not the same person that you met when I was 18.  Yes, we shared "kink", we shared many other things, happiness, good times, painful times and loss.  But, you wouldn't understand the rest, we didn't share the things that I have ultimately come to know that is a part of me and my needs.

There is no way on this earth that you would ever be able to grasp an FLR, let alone be within one.  Even the mentioning of the dynamic would have you running from the hills.  You wouldn't be able to grasp who I am, you wouldn't be able to accept that this is who I am.  You couldn't accept it back then, not really.  You struggled with my dominance even back then.

That is why, I let rip at your comment of "my woman", I was never "your woman".  I was many things. We were many things. But not that.

But you don't get that do you?

And I don't think you will ever be able to understand that the person I was then, the person who shared life with you for 7 years, isn't who I am, I was young, still growing, still learning, learning about me, what I wanted, needed.  And yes at the time I didn't envisage being where I am now, but I am. And I need it. And this is me.  But then, you didn't want me to be who I was, you didn't want me to find out, you didn't want me to grow.  You wanted to keep me like a bird with its wings clipped.

But you don't get that do you?

Love is never enough.  It wasn't then. It isn't now. It never will be. 

There is no way that you would be able to understand the sadistic part of me, the Dominant part of me, the real kinky side of me. 

And that's ok. I am not asking or wanting you to understand.  You wouldn't be able to understand the need I would have to hurt you, physically.  More than I did when we were together, in more extreme ways.

We hurt each other in other ways. Ways that hurt far more than anything physical.  You hurt me in a way, that no-one ever has. That no-one ever will again.

But you don't get that do you?

You just need to know that I am not who I was back then, and that the things that I lived with or tolerated back then, I don't now. 

For the years we were together, there were so many secrets.  I will not be your secret now. I will not be your anything now.  

We were.

That is it. 

But you don't get that do you!

25 January 2011

The boys ongoing denial

I don't normally like "cartoon" pictures, but couldn't find one I liked which really fitted this blog . . .however, this cartoon . . .is VERY apt in terms of the boy, his chastity and my denial of him! LOL

I know when he and I first talked about it, he would have no idea that his extended denial would be to the extent that it is, that it has been, that it will continue to be so!

But the boy and I were chatting the other day and he said that he had meant to mention something that I had written in my blog here regarding my denial of him,

"What about it?"

"Where you said you don't know how long the boy has been denied for Mistress"

"Well, I don't"

"The boy knows you can be dismissive, but do you not know how long you keep him in denial for Mistress?"


"Do I count? Nope.
"Do I know how long you've not touched for? Nope."
"Do I know how long it is since you had an orgasm, ruined or otherwise? Nope"

"And you don't care either do you Mistress, as in the denial you hold of him Mistress?"


And I don't. Count.

The boy mentioned it again last night, about my not knowing or counting.  I wonder if he mentions it in the hope that I may feel sorry for him and allow him a little touch.  Will I feel sorry for him? Highly unlikely.  Will it make me give in and allow him to touch, to edge, to orgasm? No, in fact its likely to have the opposite effect and make me deny him for longer! The boy has learned not to ask for such, he also knows that if he is given permission to, that he still has to ask permission to cum. 

He asked me last night if I knew how long I was going to deny him for this time.

"I have no idea" was my response. 

Because I don't.

And most of the time in all honesty, I don't actually even think about his denial.  That isn't because I do not care (as per my previous blog entry HERE about being indifferent), but just the way it is. 

But the boy also knows and is learning, exactly what comes from his denial, the place that it has within a D/s relationship, even the place it has and will have in an FLR.  As the boy commented himself the other night, it makes him feel submissive, it gives him butterflies.  It arouses him.  Yes it makes him frustrated, adds to the frustration that is a natural part of chastity and denial, but it also arouses him that I treat him in this way, the fact that I do not count, do not care.

I know being denied something that you've always had the ability to do as and when you want is not easy.  It is even harder in the fact that he does not wear a device.  I know that being denied isn't easy, and that the frustration builds up.  I like the boy frustrated. I like the focus chastity and denial brings. And I want that focus from the boy.  But, the boy is also realising just how he can truly feel the depths of his submissive self and that chastity and denial is a part of that, that it does have a place. 

In my relationships, it always will.

The boy counts. He often mentions it in his blog. 

Not that I take a lot of notice of the figures or the numbers or the days.

I don't.

I just deny him. End of.

21 January 2011

Dismissive or Indifference

The boy will often comment on how dismissive I am.

Dismissive of his feelings, dismissive of his frustrations, his longings, his wants. Dismissive of how long he has been denied for, dismissive of how much he may long for something. 

He is right.

I know that I can be very dismissive.

I know that I AM dismissive. 

But being dismissive isn't the same thing in my opinion as being indifferent.  I may be very dismissive of many things as far as the boy is concerned, but I am not indifferent.

It isn't because I do not care. 

I do. 

Would I do all that I do if I didn't?  Would I waste my time? My energy?
Of course I wouldn't!

The definition of indifference (noun) or Indifferent (adjective) is without care or interest: showing no care or concern for or interest in somebody or something. 

While I may show no concern at the boys feelings, at his frustrations, I do in fact "care", care about how he feels, care about how is feeling, care about how I make him feel. 

There will be times when he will do things and that I will not take a lot of notice of what he is doing, for example, I may have him worship my feet while watching TV or reading, not acknowledging what he is doing. 

This isn't indifference either, because even though I may pay no attention, I do care about what he is doing, I care how he does it, I care that he does it right. Just because I do not choose to acknowledge his actions, that isn't my being indifferent.

Being dismissive is in my opinion so very different than being indifferent. The defintion of dismissive (adjective) or dismiss (transitive verb) is a refusal to consider or give consideration to something.

And that is exactly what I do.

If the boy tells me he is frustrated and I just say "Oh well", it is my refusing to give consideration to those frustrations and ultimately the things that I know he is longing for. 

It isn't because I do not care he is frustrated, it isn't because I do not "care" about the boy. 

I think people often get dismissiveness and indifference confused and that sometimes people bring into the mix the lack of acknowledgement of something to be either someone being dismissive or indifferent.  And I think they are all different things.

I am dismissive of the boy. I am often dismissive of his feelings. But I am not indifferent. 

I DO care.

If I didn't care then my response to him would be very different. 

And it would be more a case of this . .

"May I have permission to do X Mistress ?"
"Do what you want."

"But if I do this, is that ok?"

"May I do this for you"
"Only if you want . . . "

Now that is being indifferent.

Now that is not caring.

To me, if I were to be indifferent, it would be because I didn't care and if I didn't care then I wouldn't be bothered, and such a situation is what leads to the downfall of any relationship. That cannot be bothered situation. That I don't care what you do or what happens. 

But I do care. Care about what happens, what he does and indeed how he does it.  If I didn't care, it wouldn't bother me what the boy did, how he did it, it wouldn't bother me if he did something wrong or didn't listen to instructions and follow them through.  But it DOES bother me. I DO care about all of those things.

And so when the boy mentioned the other night that I seemed to have gotten more strict, that I seemed to not letting the boy get away with anything, that is how it should be.  If I were to let him "get away with it", then that would be my showing indifference.

My showing that I really actually do not care. 

I read a blog somewhere the other day and forgive the fact that I cannot link to it, where the submissive had said "She punishes me because she cares" and that is exactly it. 

If I didn't punish, it would be because I didn't actually care what the boy did, it would be my being indifferent. 

Letting things "go", isn't caring, it isn't showing someone more love or being kinder, it is in reality, letting things slip.

It shows an indifference.

A lack of caring. A lack of concern. 

I don't think "letting things go" within any relationship, but certainly not a D/s or even an FLR relationship is an expression of affection, love, concern, or control.

And it is indifference which is often the start to the downward turn of a relationship, the point when you stop caring is the point where things stop working. It is the point where you just don't give a shit about what happens or in what way.

So, yes, I may be dismissive.

But I am not indifferent.

And if I were.

It would be the end of whatever it was.

And I wouldn't care that it was.

The daily grind

I cannot believe that it is so many days since I have blogged. 

The week has passed by in a blur of the "daily grind", the usual routine that has so much within it.  It is hard to get everything to fit in, in fact, it doesn't. 

It is at times like this that brings conflicting feelings to the fore, on the one hand I wish I had the time to really make things happen with the boy and I.  To get that time together so that things can grow and progress in the ways that we both have hopes for.  But, there is the reality of "life", and that reality is one that prevents it from happening right now.

Yet, in the long term, having the boy in my life has the possibilities of making life so much easier, and that then the reality of "life", wouldn't be such hard work, time consuming or just grinding.

It is a viscious circle really, one could make something easier, but trying to find the time to begin things to make it easier isn't easy!

An old friend of mine (dominant friend just for the record) said to me today, you could do with finding yourself a domestic slave. 

And yes, maybe I could do with one and these sort of things would certainly be a part of the boys tasks within the dynamic and relationship, and in doing so it WOULD make life easier, it would make MY life easier! That is a FACT!

But, it is finding that time now.

It is finding the window of opportunity within times when the windows don't get a lot of chance to open.

It is all very frustrating really!  Especially when I can so fully see just how things could be, just from opening the window just a little way!

And it goes to show that when it comes down to such D/s relationships, whether they are just beginning or whether they are 24/7, that the daily realities of life will always be there, will always need doing. 

But speaking of frustration . .  .that is something the boy is continuing to feel.  And I have when I have been in the mood to, or wished to, continued to add to his frustration.

I continue to not know how long he has been denied for, but he does say how much more he is feeling the depths of his submission, of how much he is feeling the levels of frustration in not being allowed to touch, let alone have release through orgasm.

But, the boy has also had a "burning" reminder this week following his punishment of the other evening.  But, at least the boy will learn that I will not tolerate for him being less than I want, need or expect and he will also learn, that within his training, it does call for strictness, it does call for discipline and it does call for it on a regular, consistent basis.

But, the boy, will also learn that I do not do "do-me" subs! 

But I think that through his most recent punishment he may have learned.  Firstly that there will be a lot of things he will do which he never thought he would, this has only just begun with him being made to drink his own piss! But also, that there are times that punishment are needed. 

He says he did something to please me, it wasn't about pleasing, I didn't make him do something to please me, I made him do it as a punishment! And, despite what may be the experience of "punishments" being fun. As I blogged before, I don't do "funishments".

But, while punishments from a distance are not easy, I have been able to find one that serves as a rather painful reminder for many many hours after the punishment etc.  I like that long lingering affect, something that will make him continue to remember and reflect upon what has happened, so that he may learn and grow.

We all learn and grow, we all need things to help us to learn and grow, just that for the boy, this help came in the form of his punishment.  But he has learned and is therefore growing.

Just as the depths of his submission are, and this is very much reflected in the way that he is feeling, and just how the smallest of things can send him into those depths.  And that is how it should be . . .and that is what I like.

And that is why it is worth the time to train him, to help him learn, to take control, to Dominate.  It is why, there will be a window of opportunity, it is why there will be so much more.

Just hope the daily grind gives us a break now and again!

15 January 2011

Female Led Relationships ~ personal thoughts

Female Led Relationships ~

this is something I have not yet written about in depth.

It is something touched upon briefly here and there as it is something very much a part of the type of dynamic and relationship that I want, that I need, that I aim for. 

It is something that for me, goes alongside D/s, that goes alongside the kink and everything that I need from BDSM and S&M too.

If you browse through blogs or things online, you will see so many writings mostly from a male submissive's point of view, about situations of "female led relationships", also coming  in a similar form of "Wife led marriage", "Loving female authority" or other variations.  But all of them work back to the same thing . . .that it is she, the female who makes the rules, who is the head of the relationship or marriage ~ who is in control!

But so often, it seems to be that it is something that the male wants or needs or desires and that in order to have those needs met, that they have had or are trying to "lead" their wife or partner onto the path of FLR's. And it seems in so many cases that it is a battle, that it doesn't work.

For me, it isn't a battle.  For me it IS what I want. What I need.

It shouldn't be hard work, it shouldn't be a strain, although I can certainly see that it would be if it wasn't something that the female naturally wanted or felt would work with her or for her, I can see that it would be hard work and a strain if it was something the male wanted and yet his female partner didn't.  

I know that if it wasn't something I overly wanted or needed then it would be both of those. But it is what I want and need, and so much of it to me, is just a natural way of how it is.  The hard work comes in only in relation to the sub, and to making it work, to getting it how we want it to be.  It still shouldn't be a battle.

Dominating, having the control, making the rules is a part of who I am, naturally so. 

To me it feels right. 

Even in past relationships, although they haven't to great depths included D/s, (although they have included fetish, Kink and S&M) they have been very much female led.

The control, the decisions, have always been very much with me.  There have been times when my male partner has fallen naturally into that dynamic and have accepted it and our relationship truly did flourish under such a dynamic but, upon reflection, it also explains why some of the relationships from the past just didn't work, not in the way that I had hoped.  Maybe it because back then, the awareness of the whole thing that is BDSM, FLR, or D/s just wasn't something I was wholly aware of, certainly not with the understanding that I have now. And there were the times when there was a power struggle which now I know was really the downfall and the subsequent ending of the relationship.

Female Led relationships ~ it's premise is fairly obvious, whatever term one may use, it all leads back to that dynamic that the women are the head of the household. They make the rules, make the decisions for the men within that dynamic to abide by.  Some believe that it is not an overtly physical "traditional" BDSM lifestyle and that it avoids the fetish side of BDSM, that it avoids so many things that come with D/s or even S&M.

For me, and in my relationships, it actually encompasses all of those, because for me there are things from and within each that I need.

I need the kink. 

I need the things that come from D/s. 

I have sadistic needs that are only met from S&M, but, the relationship, while it brings so many aspects together is still female led.  It just involves other things which ultimately fulfil my needs, which meets those needs, which completes me.

The bottom line for me is, whether it is D/s, M/s, BDSM or FLR, I make the rules.

I have that control and I make the decisions affecting the relationship, daily decisions, financial decisions.  That I will always listen to his opinion, his thoughts, his feelings, but ultimately, the decision, whatever it is is mine.  Does it mean I am always right? No, we are all human, we all make mistakes, but, if it were the other way round and he was the one making the decisions, he wouldn't always get it right either.  Nobody is perfect!

But for me, female led relationships is a normal everyday relationship but with a heavily female dominant bias.  I read somewhere where someone said that it is "D/s in a pair of comfy slippers", that it covers the daily things that are very much a part of 24/7 relationships and dynamics. 

So many have this fantasy vision of 24/7 being a leather clad, boot wearing, whip yielding dominatrix over a down trodden, knee crawling sub who is forever on the receiving end of punishment, floggings and chains.  But that fantasy isn't something that can exist 24/7, but, it is the "comfy slippers" part, the things that come with FLRs which is so very much the "ordinary" part of those who live this way.

There are large numbers of male submissives out there, but the amount of those who are interested in, or even capable of being a sub 24/7 is I would say very small.  And that is fine, we each know what we want, what we need.  But I know that I am only interested in a BDSM relationship in which the dynamic is in place all of the time.  I am naturally dominant in what I do, how I live my life, how I work, it isn't something that I can turn on and off, I am not happy with turning off the dominance or the control.  I am not prepared to meet or serve the needs of a "bedroom submissive", someone whose submissive needs are solely met in the bedroom.  This wouldn't even come close to fulfilling my real needs and in that situation my legitimate needs, my very real needs would go unmet.

Someone once asked me, what would a sub within my "female led relationship" be there for? What would be his role?

Well, he is there to serve me, to make my life happier, but more so to make my life easier.  By doing that, by doing even the most mundane of tasks that he makes my life easier, he gets his needs met in serving, he makes me happy. But because my life is easier, because I then have more time to do other things, ultimately, we get to share more time together, so its a win-win situation, everyone's needs are met and fulfilled. 

He would also be there to fulfill and meet my needs in anyway, as best as he can.  I have control over him in everyway, sexually, his body, what he does, and even in the long term financially.  But I also have a need for kink, I have a sadistic need which needs meeting, which is why my own dynamics are not just a female led  relationship but bring in other aspects from the whole areas of BDSM.  I need to have sadistic needs met and sated by being able to inflict that on my sub. That even if he doesn't like it, he will accept it and take it.

But, I also have needs for everything that comes as part of what people would consider a "normal" or even "vanilla" relationship, things such as support, romance, love, intimacy. Having someone who is a friend, a lover, a companion.  Someone who is there through the daily grind, but who always knows his place.  I need romance, I need passion, I need support and understanding, I need someone who is a friend, someone I can talk to about anything, someone who will listen and talk to me too.  I want someone who I can share the ups and downs with, but I need someone who is able to allow me to be ME.  I need and want love, intimacy, closeness.  Everything that comes from being with someone.

But if I am going to have all of that, I want it to come from someone who wants to be all of that, who is as naturally submissive as I am dominant.

That if I am going to love someone that I want them to place me on a pedestal and love me in a way that no-one else would. 

It isn't because I think I am better than anyone else, it isn't because I believe that I am superior to any other woman or man for that matter, but simply because I am the person, the woman, the dominant, the dominant that he loves. As I saw written on a blog earlier today "Worship me as the Goddess that I am". 

Now, I do not consider myself a "Goddess", it isn't a term that "fits" the dynamic, the relationship or even my train of thought, I consider myself just to be me, but the phrase sums it up quite well.  Perhaps it would be better if it said "worship me for the woman that I am".

That is what I want.

The thing about female led relationships for me is that I have all of my needs met, physical, emotional, intellectual, sadistic by someone who has their needs met from being within that same relationship but from the other side of the coin.

It doesn't need to be complicated, it doesn't involve whips and chains and leather 24/7, it is about trust, it is about the fact that I really do make the decisions. That if I want to (or not if I do not want to) do make the rules.

This is the reality of what it is for me, the reality of what I want and need. 

For me, dominating is natural even though for many women it may not be.  It is part of who I am, maybe even part of what I am programmed to do.  I don't have to be pushed by a male sub to dominate him, I don't have to be coerced by a male partner to "take the lead" or "make the rules". I don't need to, or want to boss him around 24/7, he is still a person, still capable of thinking, still capable of making decisions should he have to or want to, I don't want a man who isn't capable, I want someone who is more than capable, but who gives that capability over to me, who gives up the control of himself over to me, who allows me to make the decisions, because he is subject to my rules, my decisions, my authority at all times.

A lifestyle based on love, based on being in control, based on my partner having a need to submit and a need for such feminine control and discipline to be happy in life. 

The sub needs it to thrive, I need it to thrive. 

Natural domination matching with natural submission, a balanced relationship, just led by the female.

Just led by me.

I need to . . .

A very late night.

A few hours sleep.

A nightime text conversation with someone from the past brings thoughts to the surface, memories of things from the past.

"Vanilla times".

Yet none of the times of mine in the past were or have ever really been "vanilla".  Not D/s. Not S&M, but certainly not vanilla either.

Vanilla maybe with adventure. 

Adventurous sex, adventurous fucking.  Dirty sex. Animalistic sex.  Lots of it. But certainly LOTS of kink.

Memories of the first "date", the long lingering eye contact over the drink, neither of us wanting to be there, knowing what was to come the moment we would get home.  But not actually waiting until we got home!

Memories of that first time, the first kiss, the first fuck.  The first time that he forced his wonderfully large circumcised cock deep into my arse.  The first time I took him deep into my mouth and down into my throat. The first time he filled me with his cum, the first time I forced his head down between my legs to lick it all out.  The first time he pulled my hair. The first time I pulled his.  The first time he spanked me.  The first time I tortured his cock.  The first time he fisted my cunt.

Lots of wonderful, downright fucking horny memories.


I needed to cum.

I needed a release, a nice deep, orgasm!  

Where is the boy when I need him?!

Too far away to be able to do anything about it.  I sent him a text, telling him to edge for 10 minutes. I wanted the boy aroused, I wanted the boy frustrated, I wanted the boy to be on the edge when I called him.

He edged. He told me he had finished.

I call.

Hear his voice, his sighs, his frustrations. 

And fuck it makes me horny all over again, I want that first time all over again, the first kiss, the first fuck, I want to feel his tongue deep in my arse. I need to cum.

The boy knows what I am about to do. He knows. I know.

I play, while we talk.

The large vibrator deep into my cunt that has been getting decidedly more wet all morning. 

The smaller one deep into the arse where I want to feel the boys tongue.  Another one on my clit that is hard and throbbing.  Yes I am greedy. I don't care.

And the boys frustration is heard and felt.

I don't care about that either.  

I know how much I tease him, I know how much it frustrates him, but I know how much he loves to hear it, I know how it makes him feel and it makes me want to do it all of the more. 

And I want to cum.

And fuck I am horny, and fuck I am wet.

And fuck I need to cum.

And I hear him sigh, I hear his frustrations and I am talking to the boy, using him for my own pleasure even from a distance, using him to make me cum, knowing that he cannot, knowing that it will just add to the frustrations he has already told me are beyond what he has ever known.

And I do.

I cum.

The juices shooting out over the vibrator that is deep within my cunt.

And I needed that.  

We lose connection.

But, I've got what I wanted.  I used the boy in the way that I needed.  The boy still remains denied.

I feel better for that.

Does he? Probably not.

Do I care? No.

This "phone thing" has never really been my thing. But I like it at the moment.  I like that I can torment him in this way, when I need to, when I want to. That I can use him in this way.

After all, that is what he is there for.

I love . . .

I love it when we talk. I love hearing the boys voice change as his mind and self begins to feel the depths of submitting. I love hearing how his breath changes with each level of frustration that he feels, the depth and the length of the sighs that come from his mouth as his frustration grows ever more.  I love how easy it is to tease the boy, arouse the boy, deny the boy.  I love how I can torment him, making him listen as I bring myself to a pleasure that he is denied.  I love how it makes him feel.  I love how it frustrates him even more.  I love how he loves it.  I love how I love it. I love that I control it, control him.

I love knowing just how the boy feels, knowing how much he feels within and from his submission. I love the fact he feels, yet doesn't know how to put it into words.  I love being dismissive to him, towards him, of him.  I love dismissing his pleas, his wants, his longings, his frustrations.  I love how he reacts to that dismissiveness.  I love that it pushes buttons, his buttons. I love pushing those buttons and knowing what happens when I do.  I love being indifferent. I love how the boy will sometimes say something, maybe even with a hope for a little sympathy, but knowing that in reality he isn't going to get any.  I love how that frustrates him even more.  I love words and how they touch him, how they make him feel, how they reach down into the depths of his submissiveness and brings it screaming to the fore.  I love how he feels things he hasn't before. I love the fact I bring those feelings to him. 

I love the fact that I am able to be myself, to be the person that I am, and not have to make apologies for that.  I love that I don't have to reign in the natural dominance that is and always has been a part of me. I love how he brings my sadistic feelings and need screaming to the surface in a way they haven't before. I love that I can long to hurt him, want to hurt him, will hurt him, knowing that he wants to feel that hurt.  I love how limits are pushed, how he will do things that he hates doing but does them because I tell him to, make him to, order him to do. I love this, I love everything. I love more. I want to love more . . .

14 January 2011

Foot whore!

I love words.

In reading. In writing.

In hearing. In speaking.

In blogging.

I need words.

I am a word whore!

I like to include definitions within some of my writings. 

It gives a basis to start from, it gives food for thought.  So, I was looking today for a word with a definition of someone who loves attention, of someone who loves to be worshipped as I wanted to include such a formal word and definition in my blog.

The thesaurus had nothing.

Nothing apart from where someone had asked

"I need some words for someone who :  "Loves being given attention" "wants to be worshipped""

First words that sprung to my mind?


Others? Dominant. Female. Domme. Me!

The replies that people had responded with went across the board, everything from ego-centric to narcisstic, to needy, to self-centred.

But none of the words fitted, none of them had fitted the description of what the person was searching for.

Then one man had responded



It made me smile.

The response I thought quite likely from someone submissive. Someone who knows what it is like to worship.

Someone who knows what it is to give real attention and all that can mean.  Someone however, commented about how wrong he was with his reply.
But he later responded with this:

"Show me a woman who doesn't love being given attention or who doesn't expect to be appreciated and I'll show you a woman who is going to be in bad relationships. As for worshipping, a little goes a very long way.

If men willingly gave more appreciation and attention instead of competition, relationships would last much longer."

Again he had made me smile. 

He got it.   He knew just what the "meaning" was even without the right word or definition.

Someone later went on to say

"I prefer the use of a non pc word "attention whore""

Not whore in the correct sense of the words of course, or with the correct definition.  But it fits ya'know.

It does describe it so very well.

So, I am female.

I am an attention whore.

I LOVE having my feet "worshipped".

And I do not mean just licked and sucked.

There is SO much more to it than that!

I love having them washed, soaped, dried. I love having them rubbed, pumiced, moisturised.

I love having them tended to, massaged, touched, gently scratched.

I can sit there for hours having my feet attended to.

They love the attention.

My feet are attention whores!

I love the attention they get, and I know that from a sub's point of view that it can be one of the wonderful acts of service, one which they gain pleasure in doing, knowing how much they have pleased the Dominant.

It is one of the basic acts of service, but one which can show much attention, much devotion, much love.

I love it.

I miss it.

And my feet are feeling ULTRA neglected.

It has been such a long time since they have received such wonderful attention.

And at the end of a very long week like this one has been, it would just be the perfect way to end the week.

And my god, how they would love such attention right now.

How wonderful it would be, to have my feet taken into a lap, to have any polish removed and then to have them gently washed in a bowl of warm water, gently scented, maybe even bubbles, oils or even petals.

And once they have been cleansed and allowed a leisurely soak for a while, to then have them taken out, gently placed on a warm fluffy towel.  Each foot then taken in turn, gently rubbed with a pumice to remove any hardness and leaving them so very soft to the touch. 

And then get rid of the traces of pumice and skin, to soak them further.  More warm scented water, feet allowed to soak while being gently rubbed while in the water.

The water being constantly topped up to make sure it remains warm.

Then, loving removed, placed on another warm fluffy towel to be patted dry. Followed by a lovely, long gentle foot massage with oils and lotions.  With more pressure just in the right places.

Around the heel, the balls of the feet, attention to each individual toe, across the top of the foot and around the ankle. Between each toe. No spot left untouched or unattended.

Then, for the nails to be freshly painted, making sure there isn't any on the surrounding skin. 

A couple of layers with plenty of time for them to dry in between time. 

And then, when they are cleansed, massaged and painted and then to shower them with even more love and attention.


Foot worship isn't about licking, kissing or sucking.

Hell no.

It is SO much more.

And my god it would be just bliss right now.

I miss that.

My feet are attention whores!!