Photograph – Page 200 – Femdom Resource

Can’t get no respect

I’m not quite sure how I found my way to this article on the you beauty site. God knows I need all the beauty tips I can get, but it’s not exactly my regular web browsing fodder. I suspect it was something to do with the 50 shades of grey (or of bleauh) spillover into the mainstream media. However I got there, I ended up being both amused and annoyed by the articles take on BDSM.

The amusing bit was this…

In a study Hawley presented this March, the results indicated another interesting conclusion about submissive fantasies. Handing over the reins to your partner isn’t just a sexual desire exclusive to women. Men like when women take control in the bedroom.

There’s a penetrating insight if ever I saw one. Elements of the BDSM community might get annoyed by professional dominatrices being the common face of femdom, but you have to admit they are at least a very public face. It’s hard to imagine anyone not being aware of their existence. And if you know they exist, who do you think is paying them all the money?

The annoying bit was this…

The research found no evidence that wanting to be dominated is synonymous with masochism, for either gender. In other words, submission and self-respect can easily go hand-in-hand.

So apparently masochism is associated with a lack of self-respect. Did I miss the memo on this? I’ve always thought it was related to the way pain can be processed, but then again what’s my opinion worth? I’m just a useless masochist.

I’ll leave you with a shot of a man letting his partner take control in the bedroom. I’m not sure if he’s nobly submitting or masochistically denigrating himself. Either way, I like the image.

I found this on the Mina’s Kinks tumblr.

Danger comes in many forms

We spend a lot of time discussing the complexities and risks of BDSM. By ‘we’ in this case I mean BDSM blogs and forums. There’s a lot of good discussion around safeword usage, aftercare, consent and the psychological risks of play. But with all the discussion around the dynamics of BDSM play, it’s sometimes easy to forget that the physical stuff can also be pretty dangerous as well.

This was brought home to me reading this article by Midori on a recent suspension accident. You can read the bottom’s version of what happened here. I don’t know either of the players and wasn’t there, so I’m not going to comment on what actually happened (although I do think this post makes an excellent point). Regardless of the specific circumstances, it’s unarguable that the people involved were experts and yet someone still got seriously hurt.

I’ve done suspension scenes several times and enjoyed them a great deal. They can be very beautiful, as in the last two images here. But there is undoubtedly risk involved. I wonder how many tops train not just for the scene itself, but for the potential scene when everything has gone wrong. Knowing what to do with a shaky submissive coming out of subspace and needing some aftercare is one thing. How many have rehearsed a set of steps to follow when they’ve just dropped somebody on a concrete floor? It often seems that the only time we get to practice an emergency is in the middle of one. Which is pretty much the worst time to do so.

This suspension shot is completely unconnected to the scene in question. I found in on this image board. I like it both for the bondage and for the contrast between the dark background and light bodies.

Perched on her pet

A cute shot this one. He has a gentle puppy look about him, where she looks a lot more carnal. Sometimes in a cage shot like this one there’s a sense of a firm but caring and playful owner/pet relationship. A bit like owning a dog. Not so much here. She looks like someone with delightfully evil plans, and the look in his eyes says that he knows his role in them.

I found this on the Fuck Yeah Male Submission tumblr. It’s originally from the Divine Bitches site.

When I was a lad…

In yesterday’s post I wrote about a heavy bondage and hooding session I’d just done. I was happy that I’d managed to conquer what was for me a difficult style of play. However, the real surprise of the session wasn’t dealing with the hoods, but a strange memory of childhood that was triggered. That was a new experience. I know a lot of people can trace their kinky roots back to particular childhood events or relationships. That has never been the case for me, and I’ve never really thought much about childhood when playing.

What made it particularly odd was the heavy and intense nature of the experience. Some session can be kinky while still have a recognizably playful sexual element. Stuff like light rope bondage, nipple pinching, teasing, spanking, etc. These aren’t sex, but they are sex adjacent. You start in Sensation Avenue, and rather than a left into Sex Drive, it’s a right turn into Kinky Fun Terrace. In yesterday’s session I was wearing leather chaps and gauntlets, wrapped in a leather sleep sack, fastened with leather straps to a wheeled hospital trolley and isolated under a thick leather hood. The only exposed bit of me was the cock, and that was only there so Lydia could slap it around. To the casual observer that’s not sex adjacent. That’s down Bizzaro Highway, along the You Need Help Freeway and straight into the heart of Freakytown. And I’m happy to say that my childhood didn’t overlap with any of that geography.

The moment in question occurred when I was left unmolested for a period, free to relax and float in the bondage. It was dark, only faint noises could be heard, and the smell of leather was all around. As I lay there I flashed back to being a young boy in the back of my parents car. After visiting relatives we’d drive back late at night, and I’d often stretch out to sleep on the back seat. It would be dark and peaceful, with just the light of the instruments and the quiet murmur of my parents voices from the front. It felt safe and comforting, which is kind of ironic given the lack of safety features compared to the cars of today.

There are some obvious physical parallels between the two situations. Darkness. Limited background noise. The leather smell from the car seats. But I think the main trigger was the sense of security and lack of responsibility. As a child I trusted my parents to get me home safely. I didn’t have to worry. I could just relax and drift away. The bondage and sensory isolation created a similar emotion. I couldn’t do anything. I was safe. Wrapped up. Nothing to worry about. At least not until Lydia decided it was time for a little cock torture. That gave me something to worry about.

For an accompanying image a shot of the young paltego would be kind of appropriate. But since I’m not into humilation or emotional masochism, I’ll give that a pass. Instead I turned to the Serious Bondage site and an article they did on Darla Kincaid (sadly now retired). Not quite the same setup as my scene, but it does look very intense.

Hoods

A short post tonight. I just finished an intense session with Lydia and I’m still feeling pretty buzzed and floaty. All I want to do right now is pour a glass of wine and relax on the couch.

We were playing with hoods, an item I’ve had problems with in the past. I’m typically not claustrophobic, but there’s something about sensory deprivation, bondage and pressure around my face that stresses me. We’ve worked on it over time, and tonight we had a great session with a lot of layered bondage and some really heavy hoods (like this one). As usual Lydia threw in some interesting twists, using a leather body bag to wrap me in, and having me on a wheeled trolley bed that she could twirl around. That kind of spinning motion coupled with heavy sensory deprivation (she even used earplugs under the hood) and the layers of immobilizing leather bondage created a very intense head space.

In celebration of me making it through the session with no panicky moments, here’s a nice hood shot I came across on Mina’s Kinks tumblr.

Awaiting her moment

The cane flexing shot is a femdom porn cliche. It pops up all over the place, particularly with mistresses dressed in sexy authoritarian but non-fetish outfits (for example this, or this, or this, …) That’s not to say it doesn’t work. It’s a cliche for a reason. For a lot of submissive guys (including this one) it pushes buttons. However, I normally try and steer clear of the obvious femdom tropes on this blog. They are too easy to find in a hundred other places.

I liked this shot for doing something a little different with the idea. She’s not sneering down the camera lense, but looks to be lost in thought, flexing the cane as a reflex as she ponders the moment. There’s a nice ambiguity to it and it’s possible to imagine any number of storylines to accompany it.

I found it on the Poe’s Mistress (aka French Twist) tumblr. I believe it’s a shot by Ellen von Unwerth. She’s a fashion photographer who started life as a model before moving behind the camera. I suspect the image is therefore from a mainstream fashion shot of some sort.

Fatal Beatings

I thought it was time for another post featuring a collection of themed tumblr links. There aren’t any fatal beatings in here I hope, but I was inspired to do something on a spanking theme by stumbling across this old sketch by Rowan Atkinson. It’s one of his best, featuring an acerbic headmaster who is very concerned about the attitude of a problematic pupil.

It looks like a tag team effort in this hairbrush spanking.
I picked this one for her outfit. Doesn’t look like he is being beaten all that hard, but the white roll-neck, grey skirt and black boots are an appealing combination.
In contrast to the last one, here are a couple of images featuring very reddened backsides. Both are from the “Who’s Sorry Now” (aka spanked2tears) tumblr which could easily have provided enough material for this entire post on its own.
Here’s a shot from the Queen of spanking, Dana Kane. I particularly like the match between the hole in the paddle and the bruises on his ass.
A paddling can be tough enough to take on it’s own. Adding a predicament position into the mix is particularly evil.
Great smile in this picture….
…and in this one.
Here’s someone who appears to be looking forward to what she’s about to administer.
Finally, here’s one for fans of the governess look. I’d be happily home schooled by her any day of the week.

For an accompanying post image, I liked the dynamic nature of the shot below. It has caught the moment of impact perfectly, with a nicely balanced mistress and very squashed and red ass.

On the whole of my face

Here’s a nice image to pair with the one in yesterday’s post. There’s another attractive blonde woman involved, but rather than a teasing contact with the tip of the tongue, it’s a full sit on the face (and tell me that you love me). I like her simple clothes and that lock of hair falling across one eye. Very cute.

I found it originally on the Rue Montorgueil tumblr. The image is watermarked but it doesn’t appear to be an active site anymore.

On the tip of my tongue

I was out celebrating a friend’s birthday tonight. Neither of us are exactly old, but we were both bemoaning the aging process. Hangovers take longer to recover from, bodies don’t bounce back quite the way they used to and memory gets just a little more flaky. I’m only in my late 30’s, and already significant chunks of my conversation seem to consist of “You know, they guy on that show, with the restaurant, what’s it called? The one in New York. You know the guy. He was in that other thing, with the woman.” If it wasn’t for smart phones and web search we might never get a proper noun into the conversation.

If I’m going to struggle with something just on the tip of my tongue, I’d rather it was a little more exciting than media trivia. This gentleman seems to have a much better alternative.

I found this on the Lash Kisser tumblr site.

Risk Aware Consensual Confession

A letter in a recent Dan Savage column got me thinking about the risks of confessing kinks to partners. The letter’s author is writing about her previous boyfriends admission that he liked to be peed on.

I’m GGG, so I mulled it over and decided that I am not comfortable with that. I was able to explain that regardless of how sanitary it may be (one of his selling points!), I am not down and he deserves to be with someone who is. Couple weeks later, I started talking to my future husband, who has the same kinks as me. Thanks for teaching me that being GGG does not mean doing whatever your partner wants but to always be respectful, even if it eeks you out.

I’m not really sure why the author felt the need to write the letter to Dan. I don’t think she comes out of it well. Having a limit on what you’re prepared to do is right and proper. But dumping the guy and making it sound like she did so for his benefit seems to be pretty poor form. As Dan points out in his reply, she can’t be certain her new love doesn’t have similar or worse kinks. After all, he’s going to be very reluctant to confess anything now he knows what happened to the last guy she dated.

While I was pondering this I came across this recent post by Miss Troy Orleans, where she commented on the sharing of kinks in a relationship.

I don’t think the men give their spouses enough credit as far as what their wives desire or what they might be open to as far as kink. I believe every marriage has room for some kink — perhaps it’s not the kind of heavy bondage, degradation, or skill-driven play typical of professional sessions — but with patience, communication, cooperation/accommodation, and an open heart, any couple can incorporate some kind of kink into their sex life.

I’ve never been married, so this is not a problem I’ve ever faced. However, I’ve read enough personal accounts of kinky confessors to realize there are many possible outcomes. Everything from kinky heaven in a newly rejuvenated relationship to divorce, despair and the fighting of wild dogs for a pork rind in a seedy back alley while the local hobos bets on the outcome. You should aim to steer clear of that last option if possible.

The one thing that always seems true is that predicting how a partner will respond is incredibly hard. I’ve yet to hear anyone say “I always thought my wife would like me to wear a fireman’s outfit and pee on her while making siren sounds, and it turns out I was right!” Complex internal sexual wiring doesn’t often manifest itself in obvious ways via someone’s personality or behavior. People will talk about indicators that seem obvious in hindsight, but they are never describing predictors they were aware of beforehand. It seems that the only answer for existing partners is to try and start with the kind of relationship Miss Orleans describes, and then hope they can find common ground.

Given I started with a letter on watersports, it seems only fitting to finish with some photographs featuring some liquid loveliness. Both of these are from the Felm Cyber Tumblr.