Mistress – Page 46 – Femdom Resource

Openly Submissive?

I stumbled across this post over at the Masculine Submission blog recently. It’s on the ever thorny topic of the perception of male submission in society. This is a reoccurring theme on many D/s blogs, and I’ve written about it in the past (which resulted in my most heavily commented post ever). I’ve played devils advocate before, and I’m about to do so again, although puzzlement would be a better way to summarize my attitude. I don’t want to be critical or diminish someone’s views, I just have difficulty relating.

Tomio’s whole post is worth reading, but the thrust of it is about the difficulty of being an openly submissive man in common environments that are hostile to that characteristic.

Why don’t submissive men hang out in the gym? That’s like asking why fish don’t hang out in the middle of the Sahara. It isn’t a friendly place for submissive men (let me be clear – I’m talking about guys who are openly submisisve…there are TONS of guys who pass as macho but are submissive when no one is watching)
…
If a man feels insecure about expressing who he is (security is the second level of needs); then he is incapable of achieving higher levels of existence.
Tomio Black

The part that puzzles me here is the idea of being ‘openly submissive’ in this kind of context? What does that really mean?

I don’t go to the gym regularly, a fact that’ll surprise no one who has seen any of my session shots. But the reason isn’t because of hostility, but because I find working out to be incredibly, brain numbingly, shoot-me now, tedious. I’m not really sure how open submission would manifest itself in a gym scenario. Actually, that’s not true, thanks to these kind of posts from Olivia Fitzgerald I do have some pretty good fantasies. But in reality, the daily interactions I have with people and places don’t normally touch on my innate submissive nature.

I find submission, like masochism, is entirely contextual. At work I tend to the forceful and aggressive. That’s not something forced on me by society, but just a natural function of working in a very competitive intellectually demanding area. In social groups I’m normally easy going and a facilitator of conversation, but not at all submissive. Only with the right person to accept my submission does that side of me come out.

I totally understand the potential difficulties in being a D/s couple in society, but that doesn’t seem to be what Tomio is talking about here. So am I just missing something here? Do other male submissives feel the need to openly express their submission in daily life, outside the specific context of a D/s relationship? Is the pressure to act like a ‘real man’ in conflict with how they intrinsically feel?

A black and white version of this image has been floating around a lot of tumblrs (I found it on Red Snapper). I believe it is by the artist Benegesseritt from deviantART, and entitled leave me the way i was before.

A silken rope

I find long hair on a woman immensely sexy. Just to see it flick and shimmer as she moves is a wonderful visual. And from a tactile perspective, it can create a very sensual touch. I love to be tied down, spread-eagle, and feel her hair gently caress me, sliding across my chest as she leans in to bite and pinch. Or, as she rests alongside my body, torturing it with her hands, her cascading hair forming a delicate sensuous connection between us.

From the look of the image below, I’d guess somebody has been watching the movie Tangled. It’s a nice idea, but he better be careful how he moves. Any sudden jerks may have unpleasant consequences.

I believe the image is by the artist Pain-inSide-me on deviant art (free login required). I found it on the bluekeys tumblr.

Sanity in the juryroom

I was heartened to read today about an “extreme pornography” case in England resulting in a not guilty verdict. Although it’s depressing that the case was even brought to trial, at least the jury saw sense.

I’ve written about this issue before. Back in 2008 the British government introduced legislation to outlaw what they defined as extreme pornography. The part of the act that concerned all BDSM lovers read as follow…

An image falls within this subsection if it portrays, in an explicit and realistic way, any of the following—
(a) an act which threatens a person’s life,
(b) an act which results, or is likely to result, in serious injury to a person’s anus, breasts or genitals,

When the law was introduced it was accompanied by lots of scare stories about snuff films and non-consensual torture. Inevitably, as anyone with a brain might have guessed, it ended up getting applied much more broadly to anything the police thought they could get away with. I’d probably be in trouble because wrapping a plastic bag around someones head is life threatening. And burning someones genitals clearly could result in serious injury.

In this particular case it was fisting and urethral sounding that got the unfortunate victim into trouble. Neither of those things had resulted in serious injury, but obviously the facts weren’t about to get in the way of the prosecution. They also tried the usual tricks of exaggerating the evidence and smearing the defendant. As the defense lawyer describes, they originally suggested it was thousands of images, some involving children. In the end it was down to 5 images, all of consenting adults taken at a private party. It took the jury less than 90 minutes to acquit on all charges.

I’ll leave you with an image that will hopefully now not get my British readers into trouble. It features January Seraph and a nice long shiny sound.

This image is originally from the CBT and Ballbusting site. I found it on the Women with Whips tumblr.

Checking fluid levels

This post from Spanking Blog made me laugh. It features a tweet from Cassandra Park…

over new guy’s knee getting spanked at party. out of nowhere he says, “can i check your oil?” um… you did NOT say that…no… seriously?
Tweet from Cassandra Park

The original tweet was from July, but I immediately flashed back to it when I saw the image below. It does look like she’s checking for a fluid level while her friend watches on with a concerned expression. Or maybe she’s searching for a reset button, the kind you get on a mobile phone, where you need to insert a bent paperclip into a tiny hole. Perhaps her slave has crashed? He has got an odd expression on his face. Let’s hope she’s not about to void his warranty.

I found this on the Domme and Pet in Love tumblr. I’m afraid I don’t have an original attribution.

At least she left him his boots

My post from a few days ago entitled Playground Antics inspired a comment from Ricky about getting hit by a snowball as a child. It was thrown by an attractive girl and, by the sound of, both got something out of the experience.

It was a story that reminded me of the image below, which I’ve had lurking around my hard drive for months. It features Mistress Nina, a pro-domme based in Belgium, and a rather chilly slave. I think it’s a very fun and original image, although I do wish she was dressed a little more warmly. A nice thick coat would make a pleasant contrast to his nakedness. It looks like he’s already got some red marks on his back, so that snowball is really going to sting.

Mistress Nina might be playing outside in this shot, but she also has a very impressive playspace. If you’re lucky enough to be in the Brussels area, her session information is located here.

Cultivating the palette

I’ve been pondering on pain in recent days. What draws some people to it? What makes a masochist and why do other people find them so strange?

I think if you asked most people why they didn’t like pain, they’d assume you were crazy. It hurts. What else is there to say? However, when I look at how people experience pain in everyday life, I suspect that it’s not the sensation itself that’s the primary issue. Instead, it’s the fear and uncertainty that comes with it. Sure when you hit your thumb with a hammer there’s that brief flash of agony that temporarily blocks out coherent thought. But after that, as it subsides to a dull throb, what stays with you is the uncertainty. Have I fractured something? Did I damage the nail? Is it going to swell up? Will I need a trip to the ER? It’s a similar story with chronic pain, like a bad back or a damaged ligament. The pain might be manageable, but what stresses people is the lack of control. They don’t know when it’ll stop, when it might flare up, how much it might impact their daily life.

It’s hard to find examples of pain in normal life that doesn’t have this element of fear and uncertainty. However, there are a few – working out, eating spicy food or playful biting and scratching during sex. The sensations here are often painful ones, but are not described that way. There is no fear or uncertainty, the situation is a controlled one, and therefore the perception is a much more positive one.

When discussing masochism there’s often a lot of talk about wires getting crossed in the brain, as though there’s something fundamentally different about masochists. I wonder how true that really is. Growing up I was never particularly interested in pain. What fascinated me was exchanging control. Pain seemed like an interesting way to emphasize that exchange – I can hurt you and you can’t stop me – but it didn’t seem like an end in itself. It was only when I got physically involved in BDSM that I began to think about it differently. The very safe and defined limits of a play session allowed me to experience the sensation of pain, but divorced from the negative connotations it usually has. I began to explore and appreciate the sensation both in its own terms and as a tool for play.

I therefore wonder if there are a lot of other people out there who would be masochists, but never have the chance to find out. Is appreciating pain perhaps something not inherent in certain people but – at the risk of sounding like a cross between a Bond villain and a Cenobite – just something that needs to be cultivated? People can learn to appreciate oysters and good wine. Maybe nipple clamps and leather floggers are a similarly acquirable taste.

I’ll leave you with a couple of shots from Divine Bitches of Mistress Madeline helping somebody cultivate their own particular palette for pain. If he hasn’t developed one already, this looks like the perfect time to start.

Playground antics

Hair pulling always brings out the kid in me. Normally when I’m hit, bitten or scratched I relax into it. I never feel the need to retaliate. But something about hair pulling makes me itch to fight back. I’m sure there’s some deeply buried reason for this that stems from playground fights as young child. I’d like to say it’s down to a cute but feisty young girl who used to pull my hair and tease me as a child, sending me down the path of femdom from an early age. Unfortunately she was only a figment of my childhood imagination.

The bondage around his wrists looks fairly hopeless in this shot, but I do like the red marks on his thigh. That crop she’s holding clearly isn’t just for domm-ey decoration.

Some foot on foot action

The sole of the foot is a wonderful body part to torture. It’s very sensitive, which is surprising given how much daily wear and tear it undergoes. Everything from tickling through to caning works well. Even the threat of punishment to it can be a powerful head-trip. I remember a scene where Lydia was scrubbing parts of my body down with antiseptic prior to doing some piercing. I was relaxing in the bondage she’d already put in place, thinking as she cleaned each spot – “Nipples, kind of expected that. Cock, OK. Upper leg, that’s unusual. Bottom of my feet! Oh shit….” Fortunately she never did get around to sticking needles into the soles, and she later confessed she was just doing it to scare me a little!

This photograph strikes me a quite a clever one. It works both from the fetishistic point of view and from the masochistic one. It also creates a nice contrast between the vulnerability of their respective feet. His are upturned, naked, defenseless. Hers are spiky, hard, wrapped in leather, forcing down. The more normally she stands the more it hurts him.

I found in on the 24-7-Sub tumblr. I believe it’s originally by the French photographer Jean Fabien. You can see it in this gallery on his site.

Concentration and surrender

After the strangeness of the last couple of posts, here’s a return to what passes for normality around here. It’s a simple shot. Some rope bondage, a naked man and a focused woman. It really caught my eye for the contrast between their expressions. It’d be hard to get a greater difference. She’s concentrating, trying to judge the exact pressure and movement necessary to achieve the effect she wants. He’s lost to the world, head back, surrendering to the sensation. It’s hard to tell if it’s pleasure, pain or both that he’s experiencing. Either way, it’s a great moment to capture.

I found this on the Gustos Extremos tumblr.

When the going gets weird…

Weirdness often seems to occur at the intersection between the ordinary and the extraordinary. For example, while BDSM dungeons are unusual places, I don’t find them weird at all. Everything is in a common context. However, discovering one of my distinguished elderly aunts sipping a cup of tea while browsing a collection of nipple clamps in a dungeon, now that’d be weird. And possibly therapy inducing.

Pornography is a similar story. I can look at a picture of a bound man sucking a half naked transsexual and just think it’s a hot visual. Yet, occasionally there will be some weird juxtaposition of elements in a scene that turn it into WTF moment. Take the shot below for example. It’s not the dog hood alone that makes it weird. It’s the nonchalant way he’s wearing it, relaxing on the living room couch in his weekend casuals. Exactly what’s the role play here? I think if he was naked and leashed on the floor, in a bizarre way, it’d be a lot more normal a scene.

I found this on the All About Me (aka dominant damp knickers) tumblr. It’s originally from the Sharing My Wife site.