Judging the New

Bear with me, readers. I am fighting off an angry brat called depression. Sometimes I'm able to bury it under the blankets, and sometimes it rears its ugly head to stick its tongue out at me. For the most part, I am fine; I go on with my days getting my shit done, housecleaning, laundry, cooking, tidying up... but now and then I can't help but notice that big lump under my covers, giggling, laughing at me. Its taunting laughter is quite grating on the nerves.

I went to a BDSM discussion group last week, one which I had debated attending. I was in a crappy mood. Most of the time, when I'm in a crappy mood, I don't like to engage other people. I don't want my crappy mood affecting them. It's rude. But this time, I thought, I would show up to the meeting, and if I didn't have anything good to say, or if I thought I'd be a sourpuss for everyone else, I'd just keep my mouth shut.

Well, it turned out to be a very good discussion. I was enlightened on a few points, and managed to enlighten others on a few points. I got to see people I don't often see, and I let others see me, in more ways than one.

What was interesting about this meeting was that we had a new guy show up, someone absolutely no one knew, who was not just new to the discussion group, but new to the entire scene. Now, this in and of itself would not be that big of a deal; new people sometimes decide to attend these things last minute. It's like jumping off the kinky cliff into dark mysterious pools; new swimmers often have to stand there a long time before they finally jump. Who knows how long, or what synapsis finally went off in their brains to make them take the plunge.
I'll tell you one thing, though, they often make quite the splash.
I speak from experience.

Anyway, this new guy showed up, and what was confusing to us at first was that he had not even found our group from Fetlife or any other kinkster calendar. No, he had learned of our group from another site entirely, one which I will not mention by name--but I will say it is not a site specifically for kinksters. It is a site for random people to meet and hook up.

This sent us all red flags. But we welcomed the new guy, motioned him to have a seat, and took inventory.
He was relatively young, relatively good looking, and had a thick accent. He told us he had been to one other meeting before, with poly people, and this was his second foray into the kinky scene.
More red flags.

Here's the thing: since Fifty Shades of Gray came out, there have been a lot of people checking out the kinky scene and BDSM in general, not because they think it's something they might enjoy, but because they think by associating with kinky people, they are more likely to get laid.
This is especially true for men who haven't had a lot of luck with women in the vanilla world. They think if they start reading up on floggers and whips and calling themselves a "dominant," they'll have an easier time finding a submissive woman who'll fuck them. Which may or may not be true, I don't know. But that's their assumption.

Which is just obnoxious. Because the number one concern for these people is not finding a community where they fit in, so they can grow as a person, and learn to love themselves for who they are; no, their number one concern is doing and saying whatever it takes to have sex.
If they need to be a sadist, they'll be a sadist; if they need to act all strong and macho, they'll act all strong and macho.
But it's an act. They don't know what the fuck they're doing, they have no interest in learning a craft beyond looking good to impress the females, and their fulfillment ends at filling pussy. They are not doing this to pacify something within themselves, a darker force they cannot deny; they are following a script, playing the part, willing to become whatever the opposite sex wants, as long as they'll put out.
This is not being a dominant. This is anti-dominant.

Unfortunately, once in a while, you have someone come into the kink community who is not there for the right reasons. From what I gather, sometimes they find their footing, and sometimes they do not. Sometimes epiphanies are made, and these people go on to become well-regarded community members. But often, they fade away. Like an old-timer friend told me, "people in the kink community have a short half-life."

I'll tell you one thing: you may or may not get laid more often being a member of the kink community... but your chances of finding a stable, long-term relationship are no better in the BDSM world than they are in vanilla land. In fact, some would argue, they are worse. Having a D/s M/s O/p relationship is hard.

So we went on with the meeting, talking about things the way we normally would, and this guy sat at the back of the table, quietly assessing us much the same way we were assessing him. Which is fine; everyone was polite, help was offered when needed, and the meeting was a success.
But I wonder if I'll ever see this man again. I wonder if he walked into our meeting with certain assumptions, and if we burst his bubble; or maybe I'm the one making faulty assumptions about him, and he'll surprise me.

Guest Post from...Myself

So of all the people in the world, guess which one of my blog readers was the one who got me to come out of hiding and write again?
My sister.
Yes, my sister reads my blog, apparently religiously, and has been waiting for a new post.

So here is what happened:
I wrote a post entry for Fetlife, put it up on Fetlife, and put it up on my tumblr account, as well. On tumblr, it only got, like, five notes. But on Fetlife, it took off, garnering over 2,000 likes, over 500 comments, and ending on Kinky&Popular.

I'm still trying to understand how different medias get different attention. If I had never posted that entry on Fetlife, but added it to my tumblr account only, I probably would have thought it's a dud. But it became the focus of a rather heated discussion on Fetlife. Likewise, sometimes I post stuff on Fetlife, and it gets practically zero attention, while I post it here and get amazing comments from people here, and on twitter.
I don't understand how different things appeal to different people on different sites. One thing I do know: this is why they tell people to be as "out there" as possible. Because you never know from where people are going to find you.
This is assuming, of course, you want to be found.

Anyway... after the post became so popular on Fetlife, I forgot about putting the post on here on my blog, and focused on responding to the comments there. But things have calmed down now, and as my sister reminded me, it's been a while since I posted here, so...here's the entry that caused such a stir:

The Notion of Polyamory from Someone Monogamous

You know what? I am so sick of these wackadoodle “polyamory” people telling me how oppressed they are because they are polyamorous, how monogamy is nothing but a religiously imposed construct, a yoke of society, a shackle of misogyny, an imaginative institution of hierarchy, a fabrication of the perfect lifestyle; that only they can see it for what it really is, but we should all aspire to see the ruse of it so we can throw it off like a moth-eaten coat; that a person like me can’t really understand polyamory, because I am not polyamorous myself.

Sorry, muchacho, but polyamory is not that hard to understand. It is hard to engage in, hard to live by, hard to get right, but it is not that hard to understand.
And for a lot of these fucksters, I get the feeling I, the monogamous one, understand it a lot better than they do.

Polyamory means having a loving relationship with more than one person. It means being romantic with more than one person. To go back to the word itself, it means investing amorous emotions in more than one person.

You know what it doesn’t mean? Fucking everything on two feet—or at least, anyone on two feet who turns you on.

Here’s what I see all the time: people—a vast, VAST majority of whom are men—trying to get into the mouth and cunt of every woman who strikes their fancy. They do not want a relationship with these women. They might never want to see them again after the first date. But they want to fuck.
This is not polyamory. This is NSA (no strings attached) sex.

Here’s another thing I see: couples trying to find other couples to “switch.” They will want to talk to the other couple a bit, to keep things friendly, and to make sure they’re not engaging with someone who’s violent or insane. But they’re not looking for a long-term friendship beyond the fucking aspect. They don’t want to go to the movies together. All they want is to make sure it’s safe and civil to fuck.
This is not polyamory. This is swinging.

Here’s another thing I see: men looking for a woman to fuck on the side, without their wife’s/significant other’s approval or knowledge. “I’m polyamorous, she’s not,” he’ll say. “It’s kinder I don’t tell her about my sexual exploits.”
This is not polyamory. This is cheating.

I have also seen polyamory work. In fact, I am often jealous of the polyamory relationships I see when it is done right.
That means everyone knows what the other people are doing, who they are seeing, who they are sleeping with, and who they are hoping to sleep with sometime down the road; nobody is engaging in NSA sex, everyone knows their sexual partners well enough to hope their particular relationship will continue at least for a while, and will be based on more than just casual sex; everyone respects what the other is doing, and there is mutual sensitivity towards everyone’s feelings.

In other words, it is not about just sex.
It is about love.

So when I hear someone say they would jump at the chance to fuck a woman whose name they don’t even know, who then turns around and tells me I’m somehow not “as kinky as them” because I’m monogamous and therefore I just don’t get it—
Dude, I get it. You’re a horny fucker, and you’re hung like a mule.
But no amount of sweet-smelling mints in your mouth will stop you from sounding like an ass.

A Spoof on Aftercare

Let us say now you followed all the rules. You found a woman, the two of you got to talking, maybe even watched each other's play technique with other people; you started negotiations, decided on a scene, and it all went really well. So well, in fact, that now you feel like James Fucking Bond, Agent of Tophood, Masterdom, and All That Is Sadistic, and your play partner is sacked out where you left her, looking like her brains have been shaken, not stirred. The world is awesome.

TIME FOR AFTERCARE.

Oh, but wait! You two didn't negotiate aftercare! You didn't realize it was necessary! Well, that's ok. See, unlike the scene the two of you just hashed out, aftercare has nothing to do with what she wants. Hell, she doesn't know what she wants anymore. Look at her; her eyeballs are rolling around her head like a pair of googly-eyes on a cookie monster doll. It's up to you now to know what she needs. Be the Top! Treat her the way she needs to be treated! She may not thank you now, but she'll be grateful in the long run, believe me.
(And I must know what I'm talking about, cause I'm taking the time to write a whole fucking post on aftercare, and these posts are always chock full of awesome goodness, aren't they?)

1. Set her down somewhere in a dark, quiet corner to relax. It should be dark enough that she can fall asleep if she wants to. Hell, it should be dark enough she can't see one foot in front of the other, cause why should she? It's not like she's going anywhere. In fact, it might be a good idea to put some legos on the floor, so you know if tries to get up and walk around; her hollers will warn you in a hurry, so you can put her right back where she belongs. If her friends think it's weird you're hiding her away where nobody can see her, snub your noses at them. This is aftercare, baby.

2. Make sure she has a nice, cozy blanket around her. Her arms should be good and snug by her sides, so she can't flail them around and accidentally hurt herself. Remember, she's got about as much sense now as a newborn babe; in her state, she might do some real damage to her face. In fact, it might be a good idea to go ahead and get out the nail clippers--blunt those nails down. Now's not the time to worry about her manicure. THIS IS HER SAFETY WE'RE TALKING ABOUT.
If you don't have a blanket, a straitjacket will do. The important thing is to make her feel secure, protected, and cared for. As you're fastening the straitjacket, you can whisper sweet words in her ear about how she's not going anywhere, and you've got her under your complete control. Let her feel the love.

3. Put some cream on those bruises. Arnica cream is awesome for this; petals from the Calendula Officinalis plant are good, too, and what's better, you can make a tea out of them! Just stick a funnel in her mouth and pour it down her throat. Remember, she needs to be rehydrated, and it's your job to see to her needs!
As you're applying the cream to her skin, rub it in like you're preparing a nice, juicy steak for the grill. It might hurt her, but hey, that's what S and M are all about. While you're rubbing, you can sing a little song to lighten the mood, like "It rubs the lotion on Its skin." The funny looks she'll give you will be those of admiration and respect.
If some of her skin has been cut, take heed: you don't want those cuts to get infected! It's time to pour on the alcohol. She'll scream with pleasure.

4. Give her some food. Have some ready, whatever you think you'll be in the mood for, since you know you'll be noshing on it, too, and she won't really care anyway. Don't worry now about any allergies she might suffer from; the important thing is to get her energy levels and endorphins back up. Chocolate is the best thing for this. If she refuses to eat the chocolate (for some stupid reason like she's on a diet or it has peanuts), pretend like you're in the Harry Potter universe and she's just been attacked by Dementors: GET THAT CHOCOLATE IN HER BELLEH. It's for her own good. If she continues to balk, pretend like you're a real wizard, get your wand out, and start yelling expecto patronum! around the room. A little cosplay never hurt anybody.

5. Give her time. Again, she's not going anywhere until you decide she's safe and ready to go. It could be hours; it could be minutes, if your ride's waiting for you and they've already got the engine idling. The important thing is to make sure she gets to her next destination safely. If you can't do this, ask a couple of your friends to watch over her. It doesn't matter if she knows them or not; she needs to trust in you now, to make the best decisions for her. And those "friends" you just made at the bar, who are eyeing her like she's fresh-baked bread? They will take awesome care of her while you move on to your next scene. (No, you don't need their last names or phone numbers, and it's impolite of you to ask. Confidentiality is key here.)

6. Check in on her the next day to make sure she's ok. If she doesn't accept your phone calls, keep trying; she might just be processing the lovely scene you two shared. If she starts yelling and screaming at you over the phone to leave her the fuck alone, don't take it personally--she's just going through subdrop. In fact, if she is going through subdrop, it might be a good idea to show up at her place unannounced just to let her know how pleased you are with her and how you'd love to play with her again sometime...like, maybe, right now? Don't take it personally if she calls the cops. Again, this is normal subdrop behavior. She'll get over it, and once she does, she'll be fine, ready, and raring to go!

So there you have it. A guide to aftercare. Remember, it's all up to you now. 

She's bloody and loopy, but don't despair! She just needs some aftercare! 

(*In all seriousness, I do not understand why so few couples negotiate aftercare before they start a heavy scene. But if this happens to you, the most important thing is to follow the bottom's cues, do whatever is right for her/him, and don't blindly follow any piece of advice you read in a BDSM post just because it was written by some "expert." You didn't play with the "expert," you played with the bottom in front of you. Their wishes, and their safety, is most important.)

One of the Questions Put to Me Last Week

How does a rule get made and punishment decided?
I am assuming what is meant here are rules dictated by Husband, to me. There are many rules in this house, some well-stated, and some not, but just as well-understood. The rules I have instigated usually come about through negotiation and discussion, and a great deal of my communicating my frustration and/or unhappiness; while the rules Husband instigates are also set down through negotiation and discussion, but far less.

But I guess the big difference here is this: when I want a rule made, I have to start my reasoning with why should he; while if he wants a rule made, he starts his reasoning with why should she not. I have the onus of convincing him my rule is worth his change of behavior, while he does not share the same responsibility.
There is the other fact that he has veto power and final say. If I have a good reason why his proposal is a bad idea, I have every right to bring that up, but if he disagrees, the changes are still implemented.

For instance, there was a time Husband would not bother to call me if he knew he was going to be home late, even extremely late, because he did not want to take the time to call, and thereby (he claimed) come home even later. But once he understood I didn't need a whole explanation over the phone why he was coming home so late, only a "heads up," and taking that one minute to call me was a far more preferable option than coming home to a red-faced angry dragon of a wife, he started changing his ways. The rule then became, if I am going to be late, I will call.

Of course, the fact that he can punish me while I cannot punish him is a huge, um, influence on our negotiations. But the biggest detriment to breaking a rule is disappointment, and that power can be wielded by both of us; it just depends how much we care.
When I forgot to plug in Husband's shaver that time, he was extremely disappointed in me. That hurt indescribably, and for a long time. On the other hand, he is constantly forgetting to pick up his dirty socks and put them in the laundry hamper. He knows this drives me bonkers, but does that stop him? No, it does not, because he knows I don't care enough to make it a huge issue.

Rules involving the kids are, of course, a bit more complicated. He delegates most of the day-to-day power over the kids to me. This is not say he has relinquished his veto power and final say, but it does mean he recognizes that I probably have more insight into these things than he does. He also recognizes that, as a mother, I will fight harder for my kids than I would for myself.

Making rules takes time. All of them have asterisks next to them, representing the fine-print list of exceptions and bullet-point caveats. For instance, that example I gave before, of Husband calling when he's coming home late? The fine print would state something like

*Husband agrees to call as soon as he realizes he's going to be home late, unless for some reason it is a bad time to call; in which case, he will call as soon as possible. Wife agrees not to demand explanation at that time. Husband agrees to give her one as soon as he is able, with the understanding that may not be until after he has eaten something at home (so he is not a complete grouch). Husband agrees to only come home extremely late if it is completely necessary, Wife agrees to trust Husband what is completely necessary.

With every rule, it always comes back down to trust. I am trusting in Husband to implement the right rules, and use his veto power with discretion. He is trusting in me to communicate to him what he needs to know to make the correct decisions: my thoughts, my opinions, and my wisdom. I am trusting him to trust in me; he is trusting me to trust in him.

As for punishment...like I said earlier, disappointment is the biggest punishment there is. Now, since my Husband is a Sadist as well as my Dom, my punishments tend to get painful. Husband likes to use toys.
But this is not to say I don't have my own way of letting out my vexation on him. I can get creative, too.

But the important thing to remember is that setting down rules is not a quick-decision-making process. It takes time, thought, and consideration. The urge to move fast can be tempting, but it usually results in temporary, and therefore weak, rules.

No Means No For Subs, Too

I was warned, when I started coming out in The Community, that as a submissive female, I would have no lack of "dance partners." It was explained to me that despite what I may have thought, there was no shortage of Doms, Sadists, and Tops who would be willing to work
(play)
with me inside my own limits and confines, to share in some fun and fantastic scenes.

I have now been in The Scene long enough to know this is absolutely true. When I go to a party or event where play is an option, more often than not, my dance card is filled before I even get there. I have to consciously leave some time available for impromptu play, otherwise I over-schedule myself. Sometimes the Tops approach me about play; sometimes I approach them.

When I'm the one approaching them, I usually get a pretty standard reaction. First, they give me a look of surprise; then, their eyes widen in delight; then, their mouths spread in an evil, sadistic smile; and then comes the typical response: "What kind of play did you have in mind?"

This is not to say I am never turned down. In fact, I have been turned down for play many times. But here's the thing: I never get upset about it.

There is absolutely zero point to getting upset when a person rejects your request to play. At best, you look like an insecure, childish neophyte who can't deal with rejection. At worst, you look like a whiny, petulant brat. Because here's the other thing: They owe you no explanation.

Let me say that again: THEY OWE YOU NO EXPLANATION.

No means no. If they don't want to play with you, they don't need to tell you why. It's your responsibility to accept their answer gracefully and move on.
Trying to get negotiations going with questions like "why don't you want to play with me?" or "what can I do to change your mind?" come across as obnoxiously pushy. Making statements like "but I was really looking forward to playing with you" or "but I think you and I could get along so well together" make you look like a smug asshole.
The only correct response to a 'no' reply is "okay." You might be able to get in a 'let's still be friends, then' or a 'sorry to hear that, but I understand.'... but even that last statement is pushing it a little bit, because you're still implying they owe you some kind of apology and explanation for your hurt feelings.
THEY DON'T.

Sometimes I get a reason for why the person doesn't want to play with me. These reasons have included:
• The person wants to talk my Dom (Husband) about it first.
• The person doesn't know me well enough yet, and doesn't play with people s/he doesn't know.
• The person has not introduced me to their Dom/me yet, and does not have permission to play with anyone before getting the ok from their Dom first.
•The person is simply not taking on anymore play partners at this time.

Some reasons I was not explicitly given, but inferred, included:
•The person is only willing to play with people s/he can also have sex with. (Husband and I are sexually monogamous.)
•The person finds me too old/out of shape/unattractive.
•The person is not willing to work inside my stated boundaries, recognizes that, and so refuses play.

Any and all of these reasons are legitimate reasons not to play with me.
Does that mean I like all of them? Hell no. Who likes feeling as if someone doesn't want to play with you because you're too fat, or too old, or too ugly? And as for talking to my Dom first: Husband has allowed me to negotiate my own play. I understand why others may not trust that--there are plenty of women out there who claim to have their Husband's (or SO's) permission when they don't--but I'm not going to make your insecurities my problem. Like I said, if you don't want to play with me, for whatever reason, that is fine. I have other options, and other play partners available. You need to do what you think is right for you; if rejecting my offer to play is what you need to do, then do it.
Don't feel bad.
Don't worry about my feelings.
I'm not going to start whining, crying, or blubbering like a baby.

But please, don't expect me to beg, either.
No means no. Once I hear a no, I back off and walk away.
 So if you said no just to get me to start begging? You fucked up big time.

Even Socks Are On the Table (Kinda)

Lovely readers, the time is going by, and I haven't written a post in a while, I know. But here's the problem:
In order for me to write a post, I need something to write about. Not just anything, though; not something as mundane as my grocery list. No, I need something meaty and juicy, something worthy of the amount of italics I'd use to make it pop. Typically, in order for me to have a topic like that, I'd need some kind of drama to write about.

Now, I have been circling around the perimeters of some pretty serious drama lately. Fetlife has been a fucking mess. A MESS. If any drama deserves--nay, requires--italics to it, it's that mess going on over there.
And there's been some drama among my friends. There's even been some drama among my family. But none of that drama personally touched me, and so I don't feel like it needs to go here.

The fact is, my life has been relatively drama free lately. I mean yeah, I get the occasional problem here and there, but nothing I think you fine people want to hear about.

So what I want to know is: what do you want to hear about? What kind of topics do you want me to discuss here? What questions would you like answers to, that you think I could answer? Any and all ideas will be considered.

Including my socks. Cause, guess what I found out? There are actual websites out there where women can sell their used, smelly, yucky socks, and people will actually buy them to fulfill their fetish! A fellow kinkster told me about this website called ebanned
(no I am not linking to it, you can google it yourself, you perv you)
where you can list this kind of stuff to sell.

And before you ask, I haven't put any of my stuff on there. I was thinking about it, until I had a talk with Husband about it. The conversation went something like this:
Me: I heard of this website where you can sell your used socks--
Him: No.
Me: But you didn't even hear what it's for, and why--
Him: I am a guy, I know what it is for, and NO.
Me: But--
Him: NO. 

So that was that.
Not that I actually would have sold my socks on this site, mind you. I find it too creepy for my tastes. But it's nice to know Husband feels so possessive of my footwear.

Anyway! So if you have any topics for discussion, let me know, and we shall discuss.

I Took One for the Team--Three Times, Actually

My six-year-old asked me this question the other day, while we were in the car; I didn't feel like it was the right time to answer him then, so I deflected the question. 
He asked me again this morning, as we were snuggling together. I decided the time was right.

Him: Mommy, how do girls get pregnant?
Me: A man and a woman--
Him: Get married?
Me: No, they don't need to get married.
Him: How does a baby get inside her, then?
Me: You know a boy has boy parts. A penis. Right?
Him: Right....
Me: And a girl has girl parts. A vagina. Right?
Him: Right....
Me: Well, for a baby to start, a boy has to put his penis inside a girl's vagina.
Him: WHAT?
Me: A boy has to put his penis inside a girl's vagina, and an egg inside her starts to grow into a baby.
Him: Mommy, a girl doesn't have an egg inside her!
Me: Actually she does. It's teeny tiny, but it's called an egg.
Him (flabbergasted): And he has to put his PENIS inside her...?
Me: Yup.
Him (thinking this over for a minute): And Daddy did this you?
Me: Yes.
Him: And he did this THREE TIMES?
Me: ...Um, yes.
Him: Isn't it GROSS?
Me....
Him (trying to figure out the wisdom of this): Well, you do have three boys...
Me: And I love them very much.
Him (hugging me): We love you too, Mommy.

What was I supposed to say? Yes, it is kinda gross, but I make your father sleep in the sticky spot? 

I Do Not Take It Like A Champ

I'm seeing a lot of pictures and videos on FL lately of women tied up and positioned in pretty contorted and (in my opinion) agonizing ways, getting flogged, whipped, paddled, spanked and beat to an extreme state. The thing is, these women always look calm, composed, and happy in these scenes. They have little dreamy smiles on their faces, like they're off in la-la land. And I suppose they are: they're flying so high, they could make their own orbit around the moon. 

When I see these pictures and videos, the first thing I think to myself is wow, that's gorgeous.

The second thing I think is that Top will never want to play with someone like me.

When I play (get played with, really), yeah, I can be all quiet and demure if I have to be; and I can still get induced to fly that way, too. But for me, that's just scratching the surface of the real depth of the experience. The most intense, raw, and in the end, memorable scenes for me have always been the ones where I fight the most.

I struggle; I scream; I scratch, bite, holler, swear, cry, and do anything and everything to fight what's happening. I sink into subspace, but I do not 'go gentle into that good night,' I contend with every step down into that dark descent. I give up all my grace and composure to turn into a sweaty, screeching, writhing animal--if the scene is with someone I trust, that is.

See, the thing is, the more I trust the Top I'm playing with, the more free I'll feel to give into the fight, and give it all I've got. That's what makes the scene good for me. If I don't know the Top that well, if we've not become that close yet, I might feel too inhibited and embarrassed to really let go. So you'll see me quiet and still, taking the play action with nothing but a soft mix of grimaces and smiles flitting across face, punctuated now and then with a quiet gasp or breathy moan.

But when I trust the Top I'm with? Oh ho, now it's a completely different story. Every little thing they do is going to get a reaction out of me, and it's not always going to be pretty. It's certainly not going to be quiet, and it's not going to be composed.

But it will be raw, honest, and unreserved.

To me, that's what a great scene is about: having the freedom to show this person my raw underbelly, the part of me I have to keep concealed and controlled at every other time. But I can't show it to everyone, because it's fragile, precious, and at the same time, dangerous. If I don't trust the right Top, I can get hurt. I am trusting that person not to hurt me when I'm at my most vulnerable, and I don't mean the hurt we've already negotiated and agreed upon; I'm talking about real hurt, the kind that might shatter me to pieces, down to my soul. I'm trusting that person to keep control, over me, over themselves, and over the scene, when I cannot.

The Tops that have played with me tell me I'm fun; they like it when I give them instant feedback to whatever they're doing. And the Sadists I play with seem to enjoy all my profuse cries and moans. 

But then, I'm not going to play with a Sadist who I think won't.

And I guess that's what it comes down to. If you want to play with women who can keep their shit together and remain calm at all times, and fly off into subspace with barely a peep, then by all means, keep putting pictures like that on your profile. But if you want a woman who keeps it a little more raw, who might not act as docile going down but can still be a shitload of fun to play with, you might want to make that known, too. 

 

Guest Author Appearance: Dylan Cross

You guys know I'm on FB, right? I don't do very much on it. 

(Except play backgammon. I play way too much backgammon. So if you want to chat with me? Get on FB, friend me, and challenge me to a game of backgammon. I can't resist. It's a problem.)

One of things I do enjoy about FB is making new friends. This is how I met Dylan Cross. He's a fellow self-published erotica writer, and highly prolific. 

The following is an excerpt from his latest book, Fair Trade. Here is what the book is about:

Corporate VP Joanna Barnes is condescending, domineering and micromanaging. She belittles and insults the workers beneath her. In other words, she's a bitch.

Her behavior at her industry's trade show is no different. Her poor intern, Steve, has been on the receiving end of her verbal abuse all day. But, when the two of them get behind closed doors in the hotel room... it will be Steve's turn to call the shots, as he literally

brings the curvy executive to her knees...

And here is the excerpt:

Joanna slipped out of her skirt, let it drop, and then moved it aside with her foot. She reached behind her back and unhooked the custom-made bra... affording herself a sigh of bliss as her considerable breasts were released from twelve hours of confinement in their lacy prison. Then, finally, she hooked her thumbs beneath the waistline of her panties and pulled them down, taking care not to snag her underwear on her pumps.

She stood. From experience, Joanna guessed that his order to strip "everything" didn't include her silky black stockings or her slutty footwear.

She'd guessed correctly. "Come over here," he now ordered. "On your hands and knees. Crawl." She got down on all fours and began feeling her way across the plush carpet. Her pendulous 44DD breasts swung to and fro as she advanced toward him like a stealthy cougar—a ripe analogy, she reflected, considering the fifteen-year age difference
between herself and her intern.

When she got about five feet away, he made her stop. “On your back..."

If you liked the excerpt, click on over to the Amazon product page, or the Smashwords product page if you don't have a kindle.

How An Appointment Reminder Card is A Lot Like BDSM Negotiations

My dentist (whom I love) has this bad policy of sending out "appointment reminder" postcards when it's time for a checkup. See, what they do is, they make you an appointment, put it in their calendar, and then do you the favor of letting you know they've gone ahead and put you in their schedule by sending you a postcard. What ends up happening is you get a little card in the mail with your appointment date and time stamped on it, with the message "please call!!" politely scrawled beneath.

The first time I got this postcard, I ignored it. The office manager called me a week later, asked me if I'm coming to the appointment, and I said no, I couldn't make that time. She rescheduled me.

The second time I got this postcard, I was a little bit more pissed off, but ignored it. The office manager called me a week later, asked me if I'm coming to the appointment, and I said no, I couldn't make that time. She rescheduled me.

The third time I got this postcard, I decided I could make the day and time the office manager had graciously allotted me. I called up the office to let them know.
"Oh thank you," she said, albeit a little sarcastically, making me bristle. "It was nice of you to call this time." Her tone got me defensive.
"Well I assume you know if I don't call, I'm not coming," I said.
"Funny, some people think the exact opposite," she replied.
"What do you mean?"
"They think if they don't call to cancel, that means they are coming. We really wish people would just call and let us know."
After getting into a small but heated discussion on the wisdom of their policy of making appointments for people without their knowledge or consent--which resulted in her putting a note in my file, 'call patient first before making appointment'--I hung up.
But the conversation got me thinking.

Preliminary negotiations between a Top and bottom work much the same way as an appointment reminder postcard. A Top sends out the message he wants to play with a bottom; the bottom indicates she's interested. Now the negotiations start.
Too many times, I've heard of cases where things go bad during the scene because the bottom did not make her wishes and limits clear enough. The Top (if he's experienced at all as a Top) will know to ask certain questions, and keep a checklist in his head of things he needs to know. But there is no way that checklist is going to encompass everything the bottom wants him--needs him--to know.
It is up to the bottom to tell him.
But what if she doesn't?

The bottom assumes, if they haven't discussed it, it's off the table. If she hasn't made it perfectly clear it's ok, then it's an automatic no.
But the Top assumes if they haven't discussed it, it's a possibility. If she hasn't made it perfectly clear it's a no, then it's a maybe, which he might be able to slide into a yes if he plays his cards right. And hey, she's always got her safeword, right?

If the play is light, the differing way they view the situation doesn't have to become too much of a problem. The Top will do something, or say something, which rubs the bottom the wrong way; she'll let the Top know what he did was not ok with her; he'll likely apologize, and tell her he didn't know, since she didn't mention that limit in the negotiations; she'll accept his apology, and the scene will move on.
Hopefully, she'll be a little wiser for it.

But if the play is heavy, things get more perilous. The bottom may sink down into subspace far enough that she no longer has the headspace to protest what the Top is doing. Whatever he's doing is not life-threatening, it's nothing that hurts hard enough to pull her up out of subspace...but it's definitely something she would not have agreed to if he's asked her during the negotiations. It may well be something she regrets later. She's just unable to formulate her response to it at the time, to voice her opposition.

What ends up happening is that after the play is over, and she's had time to recover, the bottom feels like something happened to her that she did not want, and did not ask for. She may well feel violated, or at least uncomfortable enough to refuse to play with the Top again.

The thing is--and I know I may get some flak for this--these situations are not the Top's fault. Or at least, not solely the Top's fault. It is up to the bottom to make her limits clear; it is up to the bottom to decide on the extent of the scene; it is up to the bottom to communicate her wants, wishes, aversions, edges, triggers, rules and restrictions.

I was bottoming in a scene one time where I had told the Top in advance not to pull down my panties. He had nodded; he got it. But I had not specifically told him not to let the flogger he was using touch my cunt, even over the panties. It had not occurred to me. So when those flogger strands whipped over and up, biting into my pussy, I jacked straight up and turned around.
"Don't let that happen again," I said.
"Okay," he answered. He nodded; he got it.
That was all. The scene went on. And the next time I bottomed for someone I had never played with before, I specified: no touching my cunt, with anything, even over the panties.
Live and learn.

Tops aren't mind readers. They don't know what's going on inside your head; they don't know where you've been. You need to tell them.
Believe me, they (the good ones, at least) want to listen to you explain things to them as precisely as possible. They want to know every last detail about what you want (and what you want to avoid), so they can give you the best damn scene possible. They want you thinking about them every time you touch yourself for the next week. Hell, the next month. They want you remembering your scene with them and thinking, that was so fucking hot.
The aim, of course, to get you to want to play with them again.

So bottoms, remember this: tell your Top what you want, and what you don't want. Be as specific as possible. Don't assume he knows how to 'play' a certain way, or to use a certain toy; don't assume he'll be like the last Top you had, who used a certain technique you liked (or didn't like). Don't assume he'll know not to do that.

And if you fail to mention it to him, and he tiptoes over your boundary line...let him know, quickly, firmly, but politely. Don't assume the worst. Don't let it ruin your scene. Let him make it up to you.
And enjoy.