Tag: Uniform

The Pain Lab

The post title sounds like the playspace of a particularly high tech and sadistic Domme. That sounds even more believable when I tell you that the lab in question features a fantasy VR world that can inflict pain via electric shocks. Sadly, as this Guardian article describes, it’s not staffed by leather clad sadists but by scientific researchers in Oxford. The professor in charge there has the following to say about pain.

It’s also fundamental to the notion of who we are. Nothing else ties you to your own body, to the present moment. I’d argue that pain is the requirement that precipitated the evolution of movement. Even an amoeba knows the most important thing is not to get squashed.” Like amoebae, humans spend pretty much every waking moment trying not to get squashed or hurt either.

I think that means that the masochists among us are evolving faster than everyone else. It’s not a weird kinky sex thing – it’s a project of self-improvement. I look forward to growing some handy extra appendages next time I get some needles shoved through a delicate body part.

Here’s a medical professional looking like she’s well equipped to push the scientific boundaries of pain research. With your help of course.

I believe this is Vivian Rose in a fetish shoot for Gagged Fantasy.

Vacation

I’m taking a vacation over the next week. Hitting up some good restaurants and getting hit by a wonderful domme.

Normally, at this point, I’d say something about my posting being potentially more erratic than usual. However, given that posting is already pretty erratic these days, I doubt it’ll affect the blog. Getting away from home and work might even give me a bit more time to write. I’ll at least have a session or two to report on. Assuming I can avoid any of the seasonal bugs that are floating around that is.

While I go off to pack my case and figure out what gadgets go with what USB cords, I’ll leave you with this from Servitor. Hopefully, I’ll not oversleep and find myself in similar trouble.

Lesbian Nuns on Rollerskates

I’m not sure it’s really femdom, but the story was too good to skip. Apparently a stage show in Germany, featuring the aforementioned nuns, has caused a bit of a stir.

Eighteen theatregoers at Stuttgart’s state opera required medical treatment for severe nausea over the weekend after watching a performance that included live piercing, unsimulated sexual intercourse and copious amounts of fake and real blood.

Now that’s entertainment!

If you’re interested in more detail – and who wouldn’t be? – the guardian has actually had two related stories. The recent one with the fainting patrons and this one a few months back on the director. The shot below is from the latter one. Good to see that’s she wearing kneepads – safety first!

Kitchen Maid

I’m continuing the domestic and kitchen theme with this shot from Mary, a Bristol and London based pro-domme. I like the idea, but can’t help thinking a slightly longer maids dress might be needed. Nobody want’s hairy naked wobbly bits around kitchen table height. The playboy bunny ears and stockings do make for a fetching look though.

If you’d like to schedule a session with Mary, and maybe try a similar outfit on for yourself, her scheduling info is here.

Fragrance of Choice

A third and final image in my series of femdom art that’s both interesting and unusual. This is by the Russian artist Waldemar Kozak and is entitled ‘I choose this fragrance.’ His work is (mostly) not femdom but it is erotic, with a style that incorporates pop art, vintage, sci-fi and surrealism. Not sure what’s going on here, or why the nurses have taken a break from treating their patient to search for fragrances, but it is an appealing image.

Updated: See this comment from Bacchus for what seems like an excellent explanation for what’s going on in this image.

The artist has a deviant art site, although it has sadly not been updated in a few years. You can also see a lot of his art on this page. I’m fairly certain I featured this image in a past post, although I can’t track it down now.

Subby School

I’m a bit late with a link to this article on a School for Submissives in Atlanta. It was first published just over a year ago. However, I thought it was interesting and still worth sharing. While the naming suggests classes and lessons, it sounds more like a support and experience sharing group.

It’s not something I’d find myself drawn to – I prefer to research and analyze alone – but I can see the value of the idea. Particularly if you’re mostly playing with lifestyle folk rather than professionals. There’s no link to the group in the article, but if you’re in Atlanta and interested, it sounds like they have a fetlife presence.

Of course I couldn’t mention a school without shamelessly using the opportunity to feature an attractive school mistress. Not sure what subject she teaches, but I’m willing to get a failing grade in whatever it is.

I think the originally site this is from has sadly ceased to be.

This one time at Orchestra Practice

Writing the previous post on a minor wardrobe malfunction reminded me of a far more traumatic event many years back.

I was a teenager and attending school orchestra practice for my first and – with hindsight – only time. My given instrument was the cello, which I played really, really badly. However, the music teacher must have been particularly desperate for warm bodies and had invited me to join. I was surprised and intimidated to discover that the majority of the orchestra members were girls, mostly from the year or two above mine. This was not a crowd I was used to hanging with.

As I lurked around the edge of the music room I began to wonder if this could be an exciting new world for me. I was shy and terribly nervous about approaching girls. Was orchestra was the way in? Maybe if I actually started practicing, rather than trying to jam a week’s worth of work into the hour before each lesson, I could make a place for myself here. Could the hated cello turn out to be my path to romantic bliss?

As I contemplated these new possibilities a tall older girl detached herself from her group of friends and walked over to me.

“Tell me,” she said, loud enough for all to hear. “Do you often walk around with your trousers undone?”

Glancing down I realized that my zip had chosen the perfect moment to fail. My trousers were agape and my briefs on display to the school’s brass and string sections. Romantic bliss suddenly looked very unlikely. I fled to the washroom to effect some repairs and somehow made it through the practice. A few days later I had stroke of luck – I broke my arm. That wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it got me out of playing the cello, the orchestra and my scene of shame. Every cloud has a silver lining.

That all  happened 30+ years ago and I still die inside when I think about it now. It sadly never transmuted itself into a kink. At least not for humiliation. If anyone wants to pull on a school uniform and beat me up, well that might be a different story.

Image is from Team Rinryu, the folks behind the Yapoo Market series.

Never A Kink Around When You Need One

I’m surprised I’ve never developed a humiliation kink. God knows, I’ve given myself enough opportunities.

My latest non-consensual attempt happened in my building’s elevator. I was heading out to get coffee, wrapped up warm against the chill of Seattle in April. A rather attractive younger woman got on, smiled at me and said hello. She kept glancing across at me, asking how my day was going and made some cheerful small talk about the weather. I wasn’t delusional enough to think she was flirting, but it’s always nice to have a positive interaction with neighbors. I walked up to my coffee shop in a cheerful mood. It wasn’t until I’d arrived and taken off my  black woolen hat that I realized that I’d put it on inside out. The white care label was sticking straight up on the top, like a giant surrender flag of lost dignity. No wonder she kept looking back at me. It’s not often you see a 50 year old man who still hasn’t figured out how to dress himself properly.

Here’s once answer to the problem of errant clothing – an official uniform and a domme who inspects every aspect of it extremely closely. That’d certainly help focus the mind of a morning. The drawing is – of course – by the brilliant Sardax.

Properly Rested

Getting sick and sessioning (or not) reminded me of the time back in 2014 where I unsuccessfully tried to combine the two. The idea was to use the session high to carry me through the unpleasantness of whatever bug I had. That turned out not to be a good plan. You’ve only so much energy, so you can either power your immune system or your masochism, but not both.

It’s surprising just how much energy it takes to session. For most of mine I’m barely moving while the domme does all the work of poking, slapping, prodding, etc. Yet the stress and physical reactions still take a lot out of me. The nervous system and body are constantly being make to react and respond.

Most general guides to kinky play and pro-domme sessions will suggest ensuring that you’re properly rested, hydrated and fed. That can seem like boilerplate instructions, particularly when most activities seem low physical effort, but I think it can really make a difference to the post-session glow. Go in with low energy or low capacity and the subsequent crash can be hard.

Of course some sessions can be more exhausting than others. For example, if your domme turns up with a saddle in hand, it probably doesn’t matter how well rested you are. It’s going to be a long day.