Rules for Dominants

I’ve been dating my boyfriend for the last year. In some respects, it’s my first long-term relationship with a dominant man (at least, my first LTR where we acknowledge our dominance and submission). I searched long and hard for a dominant man. And while I was searching, I made a common mistake: I started to imagine my dream relationship, and it was perfect. Unfortunately, I met my dream man, and my fantasy relationship collided with reality. It’s easy in this internet age to read to much online. You read blogs that detail the blogger’s perfect life. You read stories where people talk about their perfect relationship. You meet someone online who tells you exactly what he’s looking for, and you imagine that it could be true.

But what you forget is that real life is never perfect. People get sick. People get mad. People have bad days at work. People take other people for granted. People get stressed out. People sneeze and poop and fart. People yell. People are inconsiderate. People have families. People have other demands on their life.

The last eight months of my relationship have been up and down. There have been a lot of fantastic times together, but there have also been a lot of tears, some harsh words for one another, and some questions about whether we are really meant to be together. Some of these tensions have been brought upon us because the outside world has interfered. But that’s life…there will always be demands from work and friends and family. You can’t avoid it. But, in our relationship, it’s caused tension. When we’re together, we’re terrific. When we’re apart, things start to unravel. Unfortunately, for reasons outside of our control (mainly work, but also elderly family members who need each of our attentions), we spend more time than we’d like apart.

I must admit that I’m often the one who starts the fights. I’m the one who is hurting and lashes out at him because I’m feeling neglected. That’s one dirty secret that blogs and the rest of the internet will never tell you: Even doms don’t always feel like having sex sometimes. Even subs get mad. Even doms make mistakes. Even subs make demands. Even doms apologize.

A dozen times I’ve asked myself, “Am I staying in this relationship because I’m submissive? (In other words, I love him, but am I too forgiving?) Is he acting the way he’s acting because he’s dominant? (In other words, does he neglect me sometimes because he thinks he can get away with it?)“I don’t have the answers. I’m fighting to make this relationship succeed, but there are times I wonder if I’m fighting too hard. When our relationship is good, it’s great. When our relationship is bad, I’m miserable.

I have certain expectations for a relationship, and if those expectations aren’t being met, then I have to seriously consider whether I want to remain in the relationship. Just today, after another phone call filled with tears, I hung up and thought to myself, “Can a submissive give her dominant partner rules that he must agree to obey?” In some ways, it’s not very different from a submissive who has a list of non-negotiables. But my non-negotiables are things like, “We have to talk every night if we’re falling asleep in separate cities,” and “Please don’t cancel plans without first talking to me about it.”

So I’m curious. For those of you who are submissive and in a long-term relationship, what spoken or unspoken expectations do you have of your dom? What bad behavior makes you say, “Stop it! That’s not fair. This is something I need out of a relationship!” Or am I just a bad sub for not silently suffering?

Does Anyone Remember…

I’m a faithful reader of the smut on ASSTR.org, as well as the stories posted on Alt.com and similar sites. A few years ago I read an incredibly hot story that I think was posted on ASSTR, but I’m unable to find it, even doing a pretty detailed search via Google. Maybe someone else remembers it, and can point me to a link? As best I remember it…

The story featured a woman who met up with a dominant guy. They drove to a store where he bought a box of pens or pencils, then made her stick them in her pussy, one by one, slowly stretching her out. At another point in the story, he put an inflatible ball of some sort (maybe a football) into her cunt and inflated it. Toward the end of the story he pierced and padlocked her pussy, then left without contacting her for a month or two. The story was a bit extreme, but very hot, and I’d love to read it again!

If anyone can supply me with a link, I’d be very grateful!

Rosacea and BDSM

I have rosacea. It’s an affliction that affects a lot of people, but I’ve never read anything about dealing with rosacea while in a D/s relationship.

If you’re not familiar with rosacea, it’s a skin condition that’s actually a variant of acne. But unlike acne, it involves a lot more than zits (and sometimes involves no zits whatsoever). There are a lot of symptoms that accompany rosacea, and not every person who suffers from it experiences the same symptoms. One way that rosacea manifests itself as a bulbous red nose; Bill Clinton is a famous sufferer. Other symptoms include highly sensitive skin (which may react to heat, to cold, to sun, to wind, to anything abrasive, to florescent lights, to alcohol, to hot beverages, to sugars, to cosmetics, to stess, to exercise…in other words, to just about everything), redness across the face, watery eyes, broken blood vessels and small bumps on the face.

Last night my BF and I got home from a great night out. We’d enjoyed a delicious pre-Christmas meal with a friend. It had been a few days since we’d last seen each other, so when we got home, things quickly got hot and heavy. We were kissing, there was spanking, there was a lot of hard fucking. It was wonderful. Until it wasn’t.

My BF gets a fairly heavy 5 o’clock shadow. By 9 or 10 p.m., it’s even more dense. And when he’s kissing me hard and rubbing his face against mine, it can become too much.

By the time all was said-and-done, I was suffering horribly. I was crying, and had to jump out of bed to race to the bathroom. Imagine that you’ve gotten a horrible sunburn on your face–it’s red, the skin is hot and tight, it hurts to just touch it, and some spots are even a bit swollen or blistered. Now imagine feeling like that and having a stiff brush rubbed against your face dozens or hundreds of times. That’s what I felt like at the time. Even today, 12 hours later, my face feels like it got run over by a truck–and it looks it, too. From my upper-left forehead, across my left cheek and upper lip, down to my chin, I look blotchy and still feel a stinging sensation, even when I’m not touching my skin. My most soothing moisturizers made my face burn.

For people who don’t have rosacea, it can be hard to understand. And I hate to sound like a whiny girl who ruins the mood by asking my lover to shave his face. Several times I’ve tried to explain my condition. A few times I’ve talked to him about it when we’re not in the heat of the moment. And I understand how easy it is to forget. After all, when he’s stubbly, he doesn’t feel any pain.

I’m fortunate in that my rosacea is relatively mild compared to many sufferers. So I’ve never thought of rosacea as a handicap that limits my D/s activities. And I’ve rarely had a lover who was so passionate that it irritated me so seriously. (Though, more times than I can count, I’ve asked past BFs to shave before bed.)

Obviously it’s time for another discussion about my affliction. I hope I can make him understand without sounding like a nag or a girl who’s crying wolf. If you have rosacea, how have you helped your partner understand the problems it can cause?

Condoms, Trust and Saying No

Always Aroused Girl has made a couple posts about her experience with a trusted lover who promised her that he was using condoms with all other lovers. In time she discovered that this man had betrayed her, and was actually going condom free with several other lovers who each also believed that she was the only one with whom he was condom-free.

It got me to thinking about an incident I’ve tried to block out of my mind.

Earlier this year, I woo’ed by, then dumped by, a man I met online. He lived halfway across the country, so we spent several months getting to know one another through emails, phone calls and text messages. We discussed our expectations in anticipation of our first meeting. We talked about the best- and worst-case scenarios. (I thought) we opened our hearts to each other.

Before our first date, I warned him that I don’t sleep with men on the first date. In fact, I don’t have sex with a man until I’m sure it’s likely to become a relationship. He told me that he’d had a relationship with every woman he’s slept with. Even if no sex was involved, I told him, I hoped to spend the night sleeping wrapped in his arms. And we both agreed that in some respects it didn’t feel like a first date because we’d gotten to know each other so well. Even though we’d never met face-to-face, I felt as if a level of trust had developed between us.

That first night we went out to dinner. There was wine involved, but the quantities were relatively modest. I wasn’t drunk, and I don’t think he was, either. After dinner, we went back to his hotel room. That, in itself, wasn’t a surprise. I’d met him before dinner at his hotel. I’d even been up to his room before dinner, and he was a perfect gentleman. I wanted to go back to his hotel room.

Clothes were removed. Body parts were touched and kissed and fondled and bitten. Soon, he made it clear that he wanted to have sex, and I agreed. Get a condom, I insisted. He initially balked, but finally got one from his toiletry kit. We started to have sex. We stopped to engage in more fun that didn’t involve penetration. We started to have sex again. We stopped again. He removed the condom and we continued in our passionate ways, minus pentration. We were both having fun, and there didn’t seem to be any pressure to rush things.

I rolled onto my side, with my back to him. Suddenly he forced himself into me. “No Daddy,” I whimpered. “Please, no, stop.”

He didn’t. It lasted only a brief moment in time–maybe less than a minute–before he came inside me. “It’s OK, baby,” he said. “I’ve been tested. I’m safe. I haven’t been with anyone since I was tested 6 months ago.”

I didn’t argue. We curled up together an fell asleep.

I saw him one more before he left town. There was no sex involved. But in the back of my mind, I had a nagging feeling. Without any discussion, he’d fucked me without a condom. I hadn’t given permission. I’d asked him to stop. He didn’t. But for some reason, I found myself willing to overlook it. After all, I cared about this man. I’d fallen for him, head over heels, before we even met. And the rest of our time together–you know, except for the part where he was fucking me against my will without a condom–was magical. For whatever reason, I felt willing to forgive him for that heat-of-the-moment transgression.

He left town and we started to make plans for our next visit. Then, without warning, he disappeared as quickly as he’s appeared.

In my anger over what could have been, I also started to get angry over the sex. I was upset and bothered on a lot of levels, but I was also upset with myself, because to some extent I was willing to forgive him. Some of the things that went through my mind when dealing with the ramifications:

• I said no, and he ignored me. But in the BDSM world, when does “no” really mean “no”? We hadn’t set a safeword, so should he have listened to me when I said “no”?
• If I’d really meant it, couldn’t I have pulled away from him, gotten up and walked out the door?
• He never asked if I’d been tested, nor did he ask if I was on birth control. The irony is that he has two children under the age of 5 with two women. The younger of the kids–the one who wasn’t even a year old at the time–was an accidental pregnancy with his ex-girlfriend. Shouldn’t a man who’s recently made that mistake ensure that he takes all precautions to prevent another unplanned pregnancy?
• I have no insurance, and the cost of a full battery of STD tests costs real money. I walked into my local free clinic a month or two later, and immediately turned around and left. It was dirty. The clientele looked seedy. The wait would be hours, and they took no appointments. Eventually I broke down and got the tests from my OB-GYN. It was an expensive lesson, but fortunately the results were clean.
• This man was previously a law-enforcement officer. And not just any old small-town police officer. He worked for a federal law enforcement agency. (And, yes, it’s the one you’re probably thinking of.) He’s now an executive at a big company, where he reports to the CEO. (The kind of position where you worry about your image, and don’t do things outside of work that could tarnish your image at the office.) Aren’t these the kinds of people we should be able to trust?
• He has daughters who are close to my age. How would he feel if a man treated one of his daughters this way?
• If you agree to sex under certain conditions (with a condom) and then the conditions change (the condom is removed) and you say “no” is it date rape?
• Why was I willing to forgive him for ignoring my wishes when I thought things were going well between us, but I became so angry about the incident when things fell apart?

I’ve asked myself all of these questions, and more, over the last six months. And I don’t have the answers. Most of the time I’m able to put it out of my mind, but Always Aroused Girl’s recent post brought the memories back to me. It’s still upsetting because of what happened, and because of the way that I reacted–or didn’t react–to the situation.

Life is Good

I’m such a bad blogger! This is supposed to be my journal that details dating in the BDSM world, and as soon as I meet someone wonderful, I drop off the face of the earth. I’m sorry

Things are terrific, and I could hardly ask for more. He’s met some of my family. I’ve met some of his and will meet some more family members shortly after Christmas. We’ve been traveling together a lot, and have some more trips planned for the next few months. We’re meeting each other’s friends. We’ve looked at collars (at Tiffany’s!), and we’ve talked about getting engaged. It’s fast, but it feels right.

I’ve waited all of my life to meet a man like this, and now I know it was worth the wait!

What’s Non-Negotiable to You?

Since I got a little flack for my posting about the qualities I’m looking for in a man, I’m going to flip it around and talk about non-negotiable qualities.

I can think of three things that would cause me to immediately say, “Thanks, but no thanks,” to a prospective romantic partner.

1. He’s married or otherwise attached.

2. He’s not interested in having children (or having more children).

3. He’s submissive.

I’m flexible on every other quality that I can think of.

What are your non-negotiable qualities in a partner?

OK, I Give!

It seems that 100% of the commenters to my last post, My Prince Will Come?, think that my expectations are too high. I’m re-reading the post for the first time since I posted it 5 or 6 days ago, and I can see why people would think I have expectations that are too high! And I shouldn’t have implied that all of these expectations are non-negotiable from the get-go.

For example, I’ve dated a few men who would never have described themselves as “foodies,” but they appreciated my passion for cooking and searching out great food, and it was something we could both enjoy together. (By the same token, I also make an effort to enjoy my partner’s passions, even if it’s not something that has previously interested me. In the past, I’ve sat through countless soccer matches with one partner, and learned a bit about the game because it was something that he loved. Or, I learned a lot about some niche bands with another partner who was musically inclined, and frequently went with him to concerts that I never would have gone to before we started dating. I learned to love wine from a couple boyfriends who had an interest in it, and together we went to wine tastings, vineyard tours and the like. It subsequently developed into a passion for me.) 

On the flip side, I would say that some of the expectations I list are character traits that are fairly set by adulthood. For example, I can’t imagine teaching someone to be modest, trustworthy and compassate at this point in life.

I probably didn’t express it clearly enough, but these are ideals, not minimum standards of performance! I always try to be openminded when I meet a man who’s a potential romantic partner, and in the past I’ve dated men who didn’t share a lot of these attributes. But I’ve also learned from experience, which is why I’ve included some of those attributes. For example, I’ve dated a couple men who didn’t want children. And I’ve thought long and hard about whether I would be happy if I never had children. Ultimately, I decided that I’d like to at least have the possibility of having kids, and I don’t think it’s fair to waste the time of myself or the time of a potential partner if we’re not a match on that level. Because I want my next relationship to be my last relationship.

My Prince Will Come?

Are my expectations too high?

I’ve said it before: I refuse to settle. I’ve dated men who were terrific–and where we both worked hard at the relationship–but something has always been missing. I realize no relationship is perfect. Trust me, I wouldn’t have worked so hard to make each and every of my past relationships succeed if I thought relationships had to be perfect. But on the flip side, I also realize I have high expectations. (At the risk of sounding like a snob, I realize every time I see someone with some huge character flaws–the kind of things that would be dealbreakers for many people–who have not only been married once, but married two, three and four times.)

What do I expect from a partner? In only some particular order:

1. He must be dominant.
2. We must share most of the same moral, ethical and religious values.
3. He must be at least spiritual, but preferably religious, with a Chistian, Jewish or Muslim faith background.
4. He has to be attractive–to me. (Yes, it’s a matter of personal preference. Brad Pitt is good looking, but I don’t find him to be attractive. There’s a difference.)
5. He must have a healthy relationship with his family. (Is there anyone who ever says, “I want a man who has an unhealthy relationship with his family? )
6. We should have similar attitudes toward finances. (Meaning, he has little or no credit card debt, he’s planned for his financial future, he’s fiscally prudent and responsible, but he also understands that for life to be fun and enjoyable, you sometimes have to spend a little money.)
7. He must have a college education, and probably has an advanced degree.
8. He makes more money than me. (I struggle with the idea of submitting to a man who makes less money than me.)
9. He enjoys great food and a good bottle of wine.
10. He doesn’t abuse drugs. (I experimented at points in my life, and don’t hold it against other people who have also experimented, but I also know that a drug addiction can consume much of a person’s time, attention and energy. I prefer to be number one. )
11. My heart leaps every time I catch sight of him. (Ok, maybe not every time, but most of the time!)
12. He’s a romantic, and cherishes the idea that I want to be swept (literally and figuratively) off of my feet.
13. He’s athletic.
14. He’s a good communicator, and is happy to share his feelings, and initiate conversations, even when they might be difficult.
15. He loves to travel.
16. He’s well-read.
17. He loves children and animals.
18. He gives of himself: To family, to friends, to the less privledged.
19. He knows how to have a disagreement, but he’s also willing to consider other view points.
20. He’s a bit of a guy’s guy.
21. He has a good sense of humor.
22. He’s generous.
23. He’s a gentleman.
24. He appreciates a woman who takes the time to look good for him!
25. He’s probably an executive in a white-collar position.
26. He gets along with his ex’s (or, at the very least, don’t bash/badmouth them).
27. He believes that D/s is about romance, not just about kinky sex.
28. But we share some (most?) kinks.
29. He’s mature, but he still has a boyish side to him.
30. He usually has a calm demeanor, and doesn’t fly off the handle.
31. He’s fairly modest.
32. He cares about earning the respect of people around him.
33. He is kind.
34. He’s cultured, and enjoys some of the finer things in life.
35. He’s rather spend a long weekend exploring a new city than camping under the stars.
36. But he can understand the attraction of sometimes camping under the stars.
37. He’s adventurous–in most aspects of life–but he’s also realistic and thoughtful.
38. He’s trustworthy.
39. He goes out of his way to help people.
40. When he enters my life, he’s probably going to make an immediate, positive impression.
41. He’s compassionate.
42. He’s monogamous.
43. He has high expectations–of himself and his partner.
44. He doesn’t easily give his heart to another person, but when he does, he gives it his all.

So tell me: As a 30something submissive woman who’s living in the big city, am I expecting too much when I say that I’m looking for a man with these qualities? It may go without saying, but I’ll say it nonetheless: In most instances, I have compatible or symbiotic qualities to offer my partner. At the risk of sounding immodest, I think I have a lot to offer. But, by the same token, that’s probably why my expectations are high.

Do you know anyone who might be a good match?

These Are a Few of My Favorite Things

I love my Smartballs. Some compare these to ben wa balls, which is an accurate comparison. It’s two interconnected balls, which almost look like a figure 8. Within each silicone ball is a second ball that rolls around as you move. Smartballs are about the diameter of an average cock (or maybe a little thicker), so I love to slip one or both into my pussy while masturbating.

Although a lot of people have (and love!) the Hitachi Magic Wand, I own a Wahl Coil, which does a great job. One advantage it has over the Hitachi is that the Wahl has removable attachments. When I want to hit my g-spot, the curved g-spot attachment is amazing! The model I have (which is probably 5 years old) has two speeds, and the low speed is very intense. I rarely, if ever, turn it on high for direct clit stimulation.

A good bullet vibe is a must-have in my book. I need a lot of clitorial stimulation to orgasm, and often it cna be difficult to hold a bigger vibrator on my clit when in some chest-to-chest positions. The bullet vibe is much easier to hold on my clit. (Unfortunately, this isn’t the exact bullet vibe I use, and I can’t seem to find my favorite online any more. I hope it’s still being manufactured because it’s the perfect combo of intense vibrations in a relatively quiet machine.)

Rechargable batteries are a must! If you have a fondness for battery-operated vibrators, or if you own a digital camera, rechargeable batteries will save a ton of money (and help the environment). I own a charger that holds both AA and AAA batteries, and now use them in all of my remote controls, toys, electric razors and cameras.

What are a few of your favorite things?

Stolen…

1. Height? 5’4″

2. Have you ever smoked heroin? Never!

3. Do you own a gun? Nope

4. Do you get nervous before “meeting the parents”? Yes, but parents seem to love me

7. What’s your favorite Christmas song? I love Christmas songs! Do I have to pick just one?

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Water, or green tea

9. Can you do push ups? Sure, is there anyone who can’t?

10. Is your bathroom clean? More or less

11. What’s your favorite piece of jewelry? An antique Rolex that was my Grandmother’s

12. Do you like painkillers? No, I’ll usually suffer for a few hours because I optimistically believe the pain will go away (and by the time I break down, it’ll be 5 times worse)

14. Do you have A.D.D.? If I was in elementary school today, I’d be diagnosed with it. When I was in elementary school most teachers accurately recognized that I learned a lot quicker than my classmates, and dealt with it appropriately

16. Middle Name? It starts with an E

17. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment?
     a. Why am I wasting my time watching the Big Brother feed?
     b. I should really head to the farmer’s market before it gets too late
     c. I want a cupcake

18. Name the last 3 things you bought in the last day:
    a. Lunch at Whole Foods
    b. A bag of M&Ms
    c. Shaving gel

19. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink:
    a. Water
    b. Green tea
    c. Wine

20. Dream car? A luxury convertible sportscar

21. Favorite Concert? Coachella was pretty awesome

22. Current worry? Finding the time to finishing a big project by Monday

23. Current hate? This weather

24. Favorite place to be? On a ship, sitting on my balcony and watching the seemingly-endless ocean pass me by

25. Least favorite place to be? Standing in line

26. Where would you like to go? Everywhere I haven’t been before

27. Do you own slippers? No

28. What shirt are you wearing? A green cotton t-shirt

29. Do you burn or tan? I try to avoid both! But usually I burn first, then tan.

30. Favorite color? It depends on the context, but I love shades of purple (on my walls, in my clothing, on my slowly fading bruises)

31. Would you be a pirate? Uh, no thanks!

33. What songs do you sing in the shower? Nothing, actually.

34. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a child? Something hiding in my closet, or under my bed. (I’m not sure if I ever visualized it.)

35. What’s in your pocket right now? Nothing

36. Last thing that made you laugh? A funny email I got from a guy on Bondage.com

37. Best bed sheets as a child? Holly Hobby

38. Worst injury you’ve ever had? I’m a bit of a baby when it comes to pain (and fortunately haven’t hurt myself much)…a scraped knee that scarred, a minorly burned hand, a pulled back.

40. How many TVs do you have in your house? two

41. Who is your loudest friend? Gary

42. Who is your most silent friend? Leo

43. Does someone have a crush on you? I hope so!

44. Do you wish on shooting stars? Yes, but I infrequently see them because I live in the big, bright city.

45. What is your favorite book? I’ve read a couple hundred books in the last few years alone. (I keep a list.) It’s hard to narrow it down to just one.

46. What is your favorite candy? Right now, a Vosges Barcelona Bar (milk chocolate with pieces of smoked almonds and sea salt).

47. What song do/did you want played at your wedding? Joan Armatrading’s “Heaven”

48. What song do you want played at your funeral? Oh, there’s this hymn that I’ve heard played at several funerals, and I love it…I really should find out what it’s called.

49. What were you doing 12 AM last night? Getting settled into bed

50. If you were stranded on an island what would you want? A survival guide

Sixth Time’s a Charm?

I’ve posted five or six ads on Craigslist in the last couple years. I keep a file of the different ads, all of which describe what I’m looking for, but each is written in a different style. I also have a file of each profile I’ve posted on the various BDSM dating websites. These ads show the progression of my thinking and attitudes toward D/s. I read some of the things I wrote in the early days, and I sometimes amazed at how much my approach and thinking has changed. But I like to keep these old ads and profiles on hand, because often there’s a phrase or description I particularly like, and might want to use again.

The analytical side of me likes to informally track how my Craigslist ads do. If I write a new one and the response is lackluster–or the men who do respond are far from what I’m looking for–I’ll take down the ad and replace it with another one. I recently posted a new ad–one I wrote from scratch, which contains few, if any, phrases or descriptions from past ads. Fundamentally, I’m still looking for the same qualities in a man, and I still describe myself in a similar fashion, but the overall theme is subtly different.

The response has been great.

In addition to saving ads, I also save every response I’ve ever received from an ad. Ah, the glories of unlimited Gmail capacity. If I get an email that sounds interesting, I’ll often search my files to see if the person has responded to a past ad. In some instances, I don’t even bother to read the emails–as soon as I see who it’s from, I file away because I know I have no interest in the individual. (These are usually men who I’ve gone out on a date with, and upon meeting them I realized they misrepresented themselves.)

My newest ad has drawn a significant response from men who have never previously responded to one of my ads. So I must have done something right in this version. How it ultimately turns out remains to be seen. The ad hasn’t been up long enough for me to fully gauge the response, nor have I had a chance to respond to a single email. But I have about 15 messages that may merit further conversation.

Of course, there were some oddities, annoyances and morons.

• I got my first email from an African scammer. I’ve heard that the Nigerians and others prey on people through the online dating sites, but I’d never run into any. You’ll be happy to know that Lazare from Camaroon wants to be my boyfriend! I never thought I would be so lucky.
• A photo tip: Don’t send a picture of yourself, where, visible in the background, is a framed photo of a some girl in a bikini. I’m guessing she isn’t your sister, or your mom! Oh, and a a shot-glass collection does not really qualify as home decor.
• Yeah, right! Gotta love the “dominants” who send a two-sentence email ordering you to send your picture to them IMMEDIATELY, and then they’ll give you their picture, and tell you more about themselves. Oooohhhh…I swoon when I read your note, because you’re obviously a true dominant man. And then, I click the delete button. (Well, I actually file it away in my “no match” folder, but it sounds more dramatic to say that I delete it.)
• Another photo tip: If someone says they’re looking for a partner who’s fit, athletic and/or height/weight proportionate, you probably don’t want to send a photo that shows your triple chins.
• Yeah, right (part 2)! Then there was a guy who asked me to read a particular book in the next couple days so we’d have something to discuss on our first book. Um, yeah…I’ll get right on that. (And that was the entirety of his note to me.)
• Not only was he 10 years younger than me (which is a hard limit for me), but then he suggests, “I would love to make out, and see where things go from there.” (You mean, you’d love to see if I go home with you after we make out?) Sorry, I don’t do “make out” first dates. At least, I haven’t since I was in college.
• Or what about the guy who sends me an email that says (in its entirety), “Your profile it too long. I couldn’t read it all. Please respond.” My apologies. I understand that the three minutes you might spend reading my profile will certainly cut into the time you have available this weekend to read “War & Peace.” I’ll keep my response short and sweet: NO.
• I say a lot of things in my profile, but what to do with the man who emails me and quotes from something I didn’t say in my profile (and have never said–period)? There’s nothing like a cut-and-paste email.
• what about the guy who doesn t use punctuation or believe in periods at the end of sentences and capital letters at the beginning of sentences fortunately those guys usually write very short notes i don t know that i could deal with a longer note because it would give me a headache to try to decipher the message though those guys never seem to have much to say anyway thank goodness

What’s the Secret?

I’ve written before of my frustrations with BDSM dating. In my post-college life, I’ve been in several long-term relationships, ranging from 9 months to 6 years. In between relationships, it’s taken anywhere from 6 months to a year before I’ve been ready to move on, and meet someone new. And I never really had any difficulty meeting great men.

Until I decided to limit myself to dating dominant men.

“Michael Tolliver Lives”

I just finished reading Armistead Maupin’s newest novel, “Michael Tolliver Lives.” I’ve been a fan of Maupin’s writing for 12 or 15 years, ever since my gay friends first discovered them, and shared them with me.

For those who are unfamiliar with the “Tales of the City” series, it began as a newspaper serial that Maupin originally wrote for the San Francisco Chronical. The series ultimately took on a life of its own, and was eventually turned into six or seven books. “Michel Tolliver Lives” is the latest book featuring “Tales of the City” characters, though it also works as a standalone novel.

If You Show Mine, Then I’ll Show Yours

I know I have readers…my site stats say it’s so. If you enjoy this blog and have one of your own, please link to me. And if you’re linking to me, please drop me a note or leave a comment so I can link to you, too. But I’d also love to hear from the readers who don’t blog. Please feel free to leave me a comment and let me know you’re out there.

Thanks!

J

I {Heart} Gordon Ramsey

I admit, I have a schoolgirl crush on Gordon Ramsey. I’d first become aware of him at the launch of “Hell’s Kitchen,” a reality cooking contest where aspiring chefs compete for the chance to run a restaurant under the mentorship of British bad-boy chef Gordon Ramsey.

Ramsey’s known for his ultra-high standards of perfection; he doesn’t restrain himself someone fails to meet his standards of perfection. “You donkey,” he’ll scream at someone who has left him down. Prepared dishes, ready to be served, are flung in the trash. He never fails to turn a mistake into a teaching lesson (even if it’s delivered at a loud decibel). “Shut it down! Shut it all down!” he’ll order when he’s run out of patience with his cooks, and at that, diners are summarily kicked out of his television “restaurant” regardless of whether they’ve actually been fed.

Cast of Characters

It strikes me that readers may have a hard time figuring out who’s who in the blog. After all, I know all of the people I mention, yet I have a hard time remembering how I’ve labeled each person. So here’s a cheat sheet… 

Beware Bengay

I know some sadistic doms like to use Bengay/IcyHot/Deep Heat on their sub’s private parts. Apparently a teen athlete died after using too much of it, so exercise some caution since the mucus membranes are thin and more likely to absorb more of the cream’s ingredients. According to this article, methyl salicylate, which is an anti-inflammatory, is the potentially lethal ingredient.

Meeting Mr. P (A Year Later)

(Note: I’d partially written this post, then never finished it because things didn’t progress with Mr. P. Since this is a sex blog with very little sex, and since I met him exactly one year ago today, I thought it would be fun to finish and post this entry. FWIW, today is also the anniversary of when I first starting talking to the Dark Horse. He and I burned up the email wires that day, then I went out and fucked another man! Go figure… A couple days after the events described in this post, I had sex again with Mr. P. That’s the last time I’ve had sex. <sigh>)

Once I got past college, I was more-or-less done with the idea of sex-without-strings. I know it works for some people, but it didn’t appeal to me for a few reasons.

If I’m going to have sex with someone, I want to know them well enough to know what turns them on, and vice versa. So that eliminates your random bar hook-ups. Plus, I’d prefer to be having sex with someone I find genuinely interesting. If we can’t sit down and have a conversation about something unrelated to sex, it’s unlikely I’ll find you interesting enough to sleep with. Lastly–and this is the most difficult one–I’d rather sleep with someone repeatedly rather than having a one-time hook-up. After all, the sex is likely to get better, not worse. But if you find each other reasonably attractive and you can have an intelligent conversation with one another and you’re having sex on some kind of repeat basis, you potentially find yourself headed down a slippery slope. Assuming you’re both single (and I’m not interested in guys who are cheating on their girlfriends or wives), one of you is likely to eventually want more of a relationship than just sex.

And, let’s face it, it’s usually the woman who gets her heart broken, isn’t it?

So that’s why I was intrigued when I read Mr. P’s online personal.

How Could I Have Forgotten?

In addition to the anniversaries mentioned in this post, this week marks a year since I’ve last had sex.

<sigh>

(And, yes, that does mean that the Dark Horse and I never consumated our relationship, according to Bill Clinton’s definition of sex.)

Sometimes it feels as if I’ve been in a life-long dry spell. When the sex is great, it seems that I’m in a long-distance relationship, where the sex is intense, but infrequent. As a 30something woman, I’ve had sex a lot less than the average woman. But on the bright side, maybe that just means I haven’t peaked yet!

An Interesting Anniversary

Wednesday marks an interesting dual one-year anniversary. It was a year ago that I first started talking to the Dark Horse. But it is also a year since I had my first date with Mr. P. I’m sorry to say that neither of those men turned out to be long-term partners, but they each gave me a few firsts:

Birds of a Feather

I’ve mentioned in the past that I’ve been lonely since making my decision to only date dominant men. While I still have a group of close friends who I can lean on when the going gets rough, I’m not at a point where I feel comfortable revealing to them the submissive side of my personality. But recently I’ve made a face-to-face friend with another submissive woman who lives in my town, and I couldn’t be more excited.

Out With The Old

In case it wasn’t obvious from my last couple of posts, things with the Dark Horse finally came to an end over the last couple of months.

Learning More About Myself

In January 2006, I was tired of going on vanilla dates with men from Match, so I started surfing around, searching for dating sites that might be a bit more “alternative.” I probably typed “bdsm & dating” into Google, and what popped up but Alt.com. I was ready to take the first big step.

Tears

It’s been about a year since I decided that I needed to make D/s a top priority in my dating life. I know it was the right decision–I’d been searching for it for years, and just not finding it in vanilla relationships–but at some level it’s been one of the more painful decisions I’ve made.

I’m lonely. I miss the intimacy that comes with being in a relationship. (Right now I feel as if I’d give anything to just fall sleep in someone’s arms.) I get frustrated and wonder if I’ve made an impossible decision. I beat myself up because I live in a city where that’s huge, but the number of people seeking a BDSM-flavoried relationship seems inexplicably small. I question whether all of the pieces will ever fall into place. I see that the clock is ticking on other things I’d like to accomplish in life–a husband, children, the whole shebang–and wonder if I’ve made it harder to attain those things. I’ve spent most of the last two hours in tears.

I think of myself as an optimistic person. I’m upbeat, and hope for the best. But sometimes life just gets me down. I hate this feeling, because it hurts and it feels hopeless.

Well, They’re Still There

The gods must be smiling on me, because my date this week was postponed. In the meantime, I’ve been popping arnica homeopathic tablets, and rubbing arnica gel on my nipples. I don’t know if it’s working, but I think that ice actually made it worse.

The thing I forgot to mention…the biter is one of the first men I described in one of my very first blog posts. It had been about a year since I last saw him, but we decided to go on another date. As evidenced by nipples, it went pretty well.

Fuck…

…fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. (I know, not very sophisticated use of the English language.)

So, I had a date this weekend that turned more physical than I’d originally anticipated. Under normal circumstances, that wouldn’t bother me. But…I have a date tomorrow that’s almost certain to turn physical. And I’d rather not have to explain the bite marks on my nipples.

(I already tried to see if a lip stain would turn them uniformly reddish-purple. At least that would be slightly easier to explain than purple bruises that only cover parts of my nipples. Damn. Anyone have any suggestions?)

Consumer Humiliation

Recently I was at a shopping mall with a friend. It was a way to kill a few hours on a weekend when weather was lousy and we were stuck inside.

Once we got to the mall, we agreed to go our separate ways and meet up in an hour or so. I’m a quick shopper, and I was bored well before our designated meeting time. I saw a bookstore, and wandered in. It wasn’t a Barnes & Noble or Borders–a much smaller, non-chain type store. But I can kill hours browsing through books, and knew it would be just the place for me to kill some time.

I hit all of my “regular” bookstore sections. New literature, cookbooks, memiors…then wandered over to the sexuality section. My eyes were immediately drawn to a book titled Master/Slave. It was a collection of short stories, each written from the perspective of a submissive or dominant. I skimmed it, and immediately decided it was worth purchasing. After all, I can always use some new masturbation fodder.

Has It Really Been Nearly 2 Months?

I’m such a bad blogger! I’ve wanted to get online, but since the first of the year, time has just flown by! I’m back now, and I’ll try to get back to being a disciplined blogger (if you’ll pardon the pun).

The “I haven’t had anal sex with a women” guy never got past the first date phase. And to tell the truth, he seemed a little effeminate, which seems like it’s such a contradiction for a guy who claims to be dominant. So no tears shed over that one!

I’m hoping that the dating life with soon kick into high gear, but I just haven’t had time for it recently. That said, I’m craving intimacy. I long to be touched, to be held, to be kissed and caressed. I to have a man twist his fingers through my hair, pull my ear close to his mouth, and hear him whisper in my ear, telling me what he wants me to do to him, or what he wants to do to me. I want to feel my stomach do backflip when he walks through the door. Soon, I hope!

That Shook My Memories

Over the last year, I’ve become much more interested and in touch with my submissive side. It’s something I only became cognizant of in the last six or seven years (though I did little to pursue it), and before that time, I would have described myself as dominant. (And I still think I have a dominant personality in a lot of other areas of my life.)

As I’ve recently spent more time thinking about submission, I’ve realized that my submissive side has always existed, and I had submissive interactions for years before I “knew” I was submissive. Some of my earliest sexual fantasies were submissive in nature, and when I flirted with boys in high school and college, I was usually attracted to the dominant ones.

Why I Love a Mark

Caitlin’s recent post about marks reminded me that I’d been wanting to blog on a similar topic.

I’ll admit that I’m a relative newbie when it comes to marks and bruises. While I probably fall on the conservative side of the black & blue scale, I’m quickly learning to love marks.

Almost every time I’ve seen the Dark Horse, he’s left me with a mark. He does it deliberately, so I can have something to remember him by, so I can feel a little bit owned. He also tries to put it in a spot where it can be easily covered with clothing, but with a short skirt or deep neckline, someone vanilla might spot it.

In all honesty, the idea of someone spotting a mark isn’t much of a turnon for me. I’ve always been one who bruises easily, so I’m used to have black & blue marks (mainly on my legs, but also on my arms) from being a klutz and bumping into things. (Right now I even have black & blue toenails!) So for all of my years, I’ve been accustomed to having a few self-inflicted marks, and I’ve never paid much attention to whether other people notice them.

But when I have one of his marks, I love to trace my finges over it. I press lightly and feel the ache. I slide my fingers over the skin to see if there’s a welt. And for as long as the bruise lasts, I feel close to him. (Not that I don’t feel close at other times, but it’s another way to feel closer.)

The first guy who gave me bruises marked my breasts through a combination of clamps and a vaccuum pump. I’ve always had sensitive skin, and within a day I noticed marks. The skin on the tips of my nipples turned from soft and smooth to dull, dry and peeling. (I told you my skin is sensitive!) Although I wouldn’t necessarily choose to have dry, flaking skin, I smiled every time I noticed it and remembered the cause.

The next man who gave me bruises marked my ass, leaving a handful of finger prints from a particularly energetic fucking.

Then I met the Dark Horse. He told me early into our conversations that he wanted me to wear his mark (in the form of a bruise). And now I look forward to it. He usually marks me through a combination of sucking and biting. He’ll work on a spot until he gets distracted (usually by my moans and squirms), then he’ll come back to it again and again, building up the mark with layers of attention, until I’m left with a mark that can easily last three weeks.

Red to purple to blue to brown to green to yellow…it seems to pass through a rainbow of colors as it fades. And all the while, I smile every time I see it.