Uniform – Page 8 – Femdom Resource

Adding a little realism to medical play

I had an interesting day today, as it featured a minor medical procedure. My back has been giving me grief for a few months now, although nothing painful enough to stop me working or playing. Its just been an ongoing discomfort that’s more annoying than anything else. Physical therapy helped but didn’t fix it, so today I went for a steroid shot into the spine. It’s no big deal, I was in and out in a couple of hours, but it did involve multiple injections, fitting an IV tap into my arm and wearing a silly backless hospital gown. Not to mention being bossed around by multiple nurses (all female) and a doctor (also female) in the hospital surgical unit.

This was the first time I’ve been involved in any kind of medical treatment in years, and the first time I’ve had real injections since I got physically involved in kink. In the last few years I’ve had hundreds of needles shoved into all sorts of tender spots, and documented a few of them on this blog (as listed in this post). I was therefore pretty blasé beforehand about the whole thing. Unfortunately the BDSM experience turned out to be less helpful than I thought. Without the erotic subtext it’s a very different experience. And the added uncertainty around the success (or not) of the whole thing doesn’t help matters. Nothing was particularly painful, but the discomfort level was still how I remember it from before kink.

I did consider trying to fantasize an erotic component to make use of my personal pain relief mechanism. After all my doctor is intelligent, attractive and forceful. Those are all very appealing qualities. Unfortunately those skimpy hospital gowns don’t leave much to the imagination. It seemed like it might be a fine line to walk between just enough fantasy to help out but not so much so as to cause a major talking point for the nurses afterwards. I didn’t fancy trying to explain that I was temporarily immobilized on the surgical table because I’d been imagining the anesthesiologist knocking me out by sitting on my face. I have to think that sexually harassing people in charge of injecting things into your spine is not a good survival trait.

Anyway, in honor of my little excursion today, here’s some medical femdom. A disturbing but strangely attractive image.

I found this on The Room of a Domme blog (Japanese language).

Emotional Masochism

HMP over at Her Majesty’s Plaything pointed me at an interesting thread over on Max Fisch’s forum. The initial posting by Miss Darcy was mainly about submissives over-committing and going too far in trying to please. But it then evolved into a discussion about drama, emotional involvement and boundary management with Miss Darcy, Irene Boss and alx. The relevant posts are here, then here, then here, and…well you can probably figure the rest out.

HMP’s original post quoted at length from the thread, and I don’t want to simply repeat his post. Instead I want to pick out a particular aspect of the play they’re talking about.

Moths to the flame, they will be attracted to the scenes that upset them the most. It’s just the nature of things when emotional masochism is part of a person’s psycho sexual makeup. Unfortunately if you are going to practice within the extremes you can expect this behavior to continue
Irene Boss

…..forced bi, cuckolding, and full toilet are three of my favorite things. With my emphasis on humiliation and mind control I seem to both attract and be attracted to the delicate, fascinating psyches of slaves, some of whom inevitably gravitate towards emotional masochism. It is the psychological play that grips me, and in some ways I think that is the most dangerous kinky activity out there.
Miss Darcy

It seems strange, but I realized as I was reading this, that I’d never really thought about emotional masochism. I’d only ever thought about it as a physical concept. This is no doubt because that’s the way I’m wired. Any anger, insults or humiliation in a scene really kills the mood for me. Cruelty and objectification are great, but being insulted quickly pulls me out of submissive mode and into ‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ mode. However, regardless of my personal wiring, in hindsight it seems pretty odd that in years of thinking about femdom I’d never really pondered emotional masochism.

Now I do come to think about, I realize how incredibly difficult it must be to explore, on both side of the D/s equation. When I play the thing I’m trying to ultimately optimize, my emotional state, is not the thing that’s being directly messed with. A great session might be very cathartic and leave me emotionally on a high, but it’s not always necessary to get there. I can just have a good session and end up feeling happy and lightly buzzed. In contrast emotional play seems far more risky and volatile. It could be fantastic if you have a cathartic breakthrough, but terrible if you don’t reach that tipping point. To use a slightly odd but apt analogy, it seems a little like flying from an aircraft carrier. Once you commit to it there’s either going to be a plane in the air or a big expensive splash. There’s no middle ground.

The other thing that struck me was how differently the same activities can be viewed. For example, Miss Darcy talks about cuckolding as an example of emotional masochism. I find cuckolding an intriguing idea, although I’ve not had the chance to experience it. But if I was to do it, I’d always think about it in the context of tease and denial. A case of – “He gets to enjoy the greatest pleasure while you’re frustrated.” I could never do it as – “You’re not enough of a man so I need this guy to satisfy me.” That would just be annoying, and life is already too full of annoying things.

Similarly any forced-bi play would have to be in the context of a hot sexual scene enabling her pleasure. Doing it as a kind of punishment or humiliation would just seem weird to me.

I guess I can be grateful that, through no skill of my own, I got lucky in the nature/nurture dice game that molds our kinks. Physical masochism just leaves me with some odd marks to explain. I don’t have to risk an emotional rollercoaster or a nervous breakdown each time I play.

– Image removed on request –

Extreme Edge Play

I always endeavor to give this blog a broad appeal, across both the gender divide and the top/bottom divide. Obviously everything I post has to be of interest to me at some level, but I try and avoid limiting it to a narrow range of activities or styles of play. I’m fortunate, or possibly cursed, with a wide range of kinks, so finding topics interesting to me is never too difficult. And anyone looking for a simple stream of hot domme images has plenty of other options.

One area that periodically pops up is edge play, involving activities that some might consider extreme. My post from yesterday would be a good example, as would some of my personal posts on butterfly boarding or suturing. I’m always careful how I present this kind of information, as I don’t want people to casually browse to my frontpage and get some enormous disturbingly graphic image shoved in their face. At the same time, I think edge play is an interesting topic to talk about and don’t want to ignore it entirely.

In that spirit, I want to talk about a type of edge play that scares the hell out of me. It makes branding or cutting look positively delightful, and I doubt I’ll ever try it, or even be in a position to. The description of it comes courtesy of a post from Em called ‘The Real Deal‘ over on Mrs, Kelly’s Playhouse. Let me quote the relevant part:

…. Scott will be totally and completely financially dependent on me. He gets a small social security check that no one could actually live off and that’s it. And though he is well-educated and smart, America hasn’t been nice to him in the job department. He’d have a really hard time making it on his own. Now that’s power.

Fortunately, for Scott, I really love him and will keep my promise to always give him a place to stay (probably the garage) no matter what happens. But when I consider how I want to wield my new — more genuine — power, whips, hoods, and cages, are not the things that come to mind.

I love all the naughty things we get up to, but I want a clean bathroom. I want laundry that is folded and put away properly. I want spotless floors and a meal on the table when I come home. I want organized files and clean counters. And I want all this without a word of complaint. No whining about time for himself.

This is actually a more interesting journey to me. We’ve had great fun but now it is not about fun, it is about what I want.

I find this fascinating to think about on a number of different levels. My immediate reaction was to recoil from the concept. I’ve been an independent and (relatively) successful person for well over a decade now. The idea that it’d be possible for me to voluntarily give-up that type of freedom is abhorrent to me. I’d always want the option to be able to walk away from a situation. But that led me thinking about what femdom mean to different people. Is it femdom to play a few hours a week with a casual play partner or a pro-domme? Or is that simply a sensation seeking physical encounter of a sexual nature? What about a lifestyle relationship where the male is the only financial provider? Even if she controls the bank account, he can walk away or change the arrangements at anytime. Does it make sense to talk about the degree of dominance as defined by the difficulty of ceasing the relationship? And at what point do issues of consent start to become relevant?

I wonder how many men out there, who purport to crave a 24/7 lifestyle relationship, would actually be happy with the kind of approach Em and Scott are exploring. I don’t think I could ever put myself in that situation. I’ve written in the past about the enjoyment I find in being pushed towards my limits. I think a lot of that enjoyment would dissipate if I didn’t have the option to step away.

I found this image on Becoming Nathalie, it’s obviously originally from Nylon Jane. It’s completely unrelated to Em and Scott, but as a nice illustration of a housemaid being scolded it seemed to fit the post.

90’s Flashback (continued)

Continuing my root through the archives, after the earlier Leda post, I came across this image from Taboo magazine. I don’t post a vast amount of F/f material here, but some images are too good not to share.

Taboo always struck me as an odd magazine. For its time it was fairly extreme, and touched themes rarely seen in other glossy top shelf magazines. It also hired very attractive models, used high end fetish gear, and was edited by Ernest Greene, a well known member of the BDSM community. It looked like it should have every ingredient necessary to produce some great fetish and BDSM pornography. And yet it always seemed to me that they frequently hired photographers who really didn’t get kink. They’d chop and change D/s roles as sequences progressed, have models take off the fetish gear mid-way through, and frequently end scenes with conventional legs spread faked lesbian sex shots. It was as if they didn’t quite believe they could do a purely kink based photo shoot and still make money. It really wasn’t until post 2000 that we finally saw other companies successfully pull together high end production values and really serious BDSM and fetish play.

Fortunately, some of the Taboo photographers did get it, and the sequence this image was taken from was always a favorite of mine.

You’re doing it wrong…

I always enjoy needle and piercing play. There’s a beautiful sense of rhythm to it. The pressure as the point slowly presses into the skin. The sharp stab of pain as it breaks the surface. And then the slow sliding sensation as it penetrates. Repeated needle after needle after needle.

There are a lot of places that are fun to pierce. But I’m pretty certain the eye isn’t one of them. I dont’ know where she was taught to do piercing, but she might want to go back and check her notes. And what’s with the smile on his face?