A Woman Wants To Dominate: Part Two

Stealth Domination

Secretly she wants to dominate. It turns her on sexually. It also turns her on in a way that transcends sexuality. She wants to kick ass. She wants to be in charge 24/7. She wants to say to her male partner, “I want you to submit to me in all ways, from now on, forever.” The trouble is, her male partner is not submissive by nature or experience, and it seems unlikely that he will simply say, “Yes Ma’am,” and go along with her request and expectations. What is she going to do?

She could sneak up on him and tell him what to do from time to time, and see how he behaves. Doing this often enough may slowly and gently move him into a submissive mindset. After a while he might find it natural to follow her orders, to submit to her imposed dominance, and to put her interests before his.

I cannot continue this line of thought without resorting to sarcasm, such as:

“After all, it is in his interest to do what she tells him, and there is no reason why he should object to following her orders. He is receiving all the benefits of doing everything for her, and it is only she who must work 24/7 to maintain the pressure on him. He can just relax and enjoy serving her.”

Obviously the stealth approach in this scenario has some flaws. It may work when the submissive partner applies it, but not in this case.

Overt Declaration of Intent

She can’t stand the vanilla relationship any more. She comes out of hiding, and declares to her partner that she has always had dominant tendencies. She had fantasized about her needs to dominate, and that she wants to apply them for real here and now. She tells him that he can be a perfect slave for her. She explains that she is totally superior to him for reasons of her gender and other important characteristics. She forces him onto his knees and accepts his obeisance that is due her.

He asks her to elaborate on his expected role. She lists some rules:

• She will take charge of the family finances.
• He will continue to earn a living, but will be given an allowance of only a few dollars.
• He will assume all cleaning and maintenance of the household.
• He will hand wash her underwear, keep her shoes and boots shined, and give her daily foot massages while he worships her feet.
• He will not leave the house without her permission.
• Sex will be only when and where she allows it. Only her pleasure will be considered, his will be at her convenience. He will not masturbate, so a chastity device is in his future. He will be disciplined or punished when she deems it necessary.
• And so on…

There are many ways in which this scenario can continue. I will pose only two somewhat extreme possibilities: one in which the man is not the least naturally submissive, the other in which he could become submissive willingly. I will explore the first case first.

Aside from the instant sexual thrill he gets from being forced to his knees by his partner, he is hesitant. He is thinking that her behavior is bizarre. He is not sure whether she is joking or just wants to play D/S, but he is willing to give her an opportunity to develop the game, if it is a game.

Since he is not naturally submissive, he has a hard time accepting the 24/7 real submission that she just proposed. Even if he were to go along with the game, he can’t really adapt to the situation full time, since that would take all his energy and more. Paying attention to full time slavery expectations gets in the way of his reality, but he wants to indulge her, because he loves her enough to try to satisfy her needs. He is not certain about how to begin. There is a conflict between his kinky side and the reluctance to do housework. He does not want to give up his freedom. He does not want to ask permission to watch the games when he feels like it. Except during rare play scenarios he wants to remain in charge of sex. The idea of a chastity device should be applied to a female, not to a virile male. Even if she backs off from some of her demands, the whole idea is wrong. No person should be a slave to another.

The other possible thread proposed above is when he is willing to submit to her. He realizes that she had proposed dramatic changes in their relationship. Even if he were a complete submissive, the changes would be overwhelming, unless dished out one at a time. But the new relationship has possibilities. He may not be the perfect submissive. He could be selfish. He could be expecting certain rewards for his service, rewards that she may not be willing to provide. He could get tired of the game and want to call it off when he realizes that it is just too much work. He could resent “her getting all the benefits all the time.”

A Woman Wants To Dominate: Part one

Introduction To Still Another Pontification On FLR

As I have stated earlier (Mistress Wife Is To Have Surgery ), MW is facing some problems that require solutions of surgical nature. Circumstances are not dire, however, they require her attention, thereby diverting from our usual loving playfulness. Our FLR is still going strong, but sex is on hold. We are regretful, but trying to be patient. I don’t want to elaborate on the details, for they are not relevant to this blog.

While waiting to return to more careless life, I have decided to do some more pontification. There is too much to post at once, so I will do it in parts. Please remember, “tongue in cheek” is the appropriate enunciation for what you are about to read. You may have questions and objections, and you are free to comment. All will be resolved at the end.

The Veracity of Female Bloggers

Referring to a female FLR blogger, when I say that she is a good writer, I mean several things, one of them is that she can write a very convincing scenario to have us believe that the writing is not some man’s fantasy. You will see what I mean at the end of this series of posts.

I think that I could be a convincing female FLR blogger. I still would have to rely on my wife’s coaching. I might try that some day on a new blog, and see where it goes. One reason why I have not done that is because I would have to stop it at some point, and refer back to hints and clues that I left on the trail for those who were paying attention. The hints and clues, if perceived, would lead the reader to conclude that the blog is a spoof. I still hesitate to do this because I don’t like to deceive people, especially those who become virtual friends. So, if I were to make the dominant female character unsympathetic, and the readers would begin to dislike her from the start, it would not be too bad to admit at the end that the whole relationship was created in my imagination. This happened inadvertently by a barely literate person at http://strictlyfemale.blogspot.com/ whose blog became defunct as soon as “she”, if indeed it was a she, could not take the heat. Of course, “her” purpose was to deceive without remorse, whereas I would deceive with feelings of guilt. Oh well, maybe I would be just as bad.

Setting the Stage

I wonder what would happen in a totally atypical situation where the woman in a vanilla relationship decides to become dominant. This is just the pshycho-logical complement of a man in a vanilla relationship who decides to become submissive. It is not the opposite, for that would mean “the man decides becoming dominant.” Sorry about the attempt at logic to illustrate my point. Psychology and logic are not always compatible.

I may need some help here from female readers, because the only intimate access to the female mind that I have is possessed by MW, and she is not about to become dominant in the sense that I propose here. The woman who is switching from vanilla to dominance is one who decides to be the dominant partner either against the wish of her mate, or, eventually, with the reluctant support of her mate. Kind of like the FLRs that we read about, where one partner is either a stealth submissive or throws himself at the feet of his female partner and hopes to be stepped on. This time, however, it is the woman who advocates the same FLR relationship.

I hope that you guys out there are already salivating at the possibilities. Please stay with me even though I am not trying to turn you on. I am just investigating the possibilities. We will start with a vanilla relationship and try to follow some ideas.

The Starting Position

I will describe a vanilla relationship for a hypothetical couple. It is somewhat stylized, and some features from many relationships are used to illustrate the scenario. The purpose is to include some elements of truth that could provide the fuel for the woman’s need to become blatantly dominant.

She has skirted the issue of D/S, and may have played with it in the bedroom. He is joyous to go with it as long as, and until it satisfies his libido. When done with playing in the bedroom, he reverts to his usual lovable but slovenly self. Some of the characteristics of their relationship are:

• He uses the toilet standing up thereby splattering urine on the seat, wall, and the floor, after which he leaves the seat in the up position.
• He takes out the garbage but does not wash the dishes. On rare occasion he will load the dishwasher.
• He leaves his clothes on the floor and does not do laundry.
• He earns a living but watches TV all weekend while she cooks and cleans after having come home from work. He might wash the car if the weather is good, and there is no game on TV.
• He does manly chores but also creates a mess in the house that she faces daily.
• He wants sex daily, regardless of how she feels about it.
• He wants oral sex as much as penetrating sex, and complains when not getting it.
• He always comes first, then loses interest until next time.
• He masturbates when she refuses sex, then he holds a grudge.
  

I could go on with the s**t list above, but I am sure that you get the idea. She is fed up with his insensitive and immature behavior. She still loves him (I wonder why), but knows that he needs to be taught to be a better partner. Not sexually, but to make living together less stressful and more productive in the interest of both partners. What does she do about it?

She Is Getting The Idea

It was last night that I noticed a somewhat significant change in how MW handles me. In the past she waited until I had done some foul deed for which she needed to correct me. That usually meant an explanation of the foul deed while she punished my poor ass with a paddle or a riding crop. I hope that this is a trend that heralds her new direction in self-pleasure.

I don’t like pain much, but being spanked by MW turns me on anyway. I get a hard on even as I am writing about it. It hurts like hell, but feels good when it is over. Ever since we first tried this, many years ago, I wished that she would do it just to make herself feel good. Kind of like we use fantasy as a preliminary to masturbation or mutual sex to put ourselves into the proper mood for what is coming. I have imagined her to bind me and really whack my ass for a while as she worked herself up to a juicy condition, then turn me on my back and ride my face until she is totally spent. She would then leave me alone as I was until much later, when she is either ready for more, or ready to release me.

It’s a nice fantasy of mine. Some of it had happened from time to time, but not all in one session. What was different this time, the real thing, was that she had me lean on the bed to expose my bare ass, and then she paddled it. It hurt like it was supposed to hurt. She told me it was for my “topping from the bottom,” referring to some web address that I sent to her about one of my favorite subjects (cleaning up after myself as a rule).

After the session was over she settled on the bed, and I applied hand lotion to her legs and feet, as we always try to do in the evening. She asked me whether I had a problem, referring to some expression that she observed on my face. I quickly tried to allay her fears of that. I explained that I am trying to come up with an attitude that will not “top from the bottom.” She laughed, and said, “I made that up. I just needed an excuse to whip your ass.”

Wow! I think she is figuring this out. I love it. She may whip my ass any time with or without a reason. Especially without a reason!

I also think that she may be trying to keep me interested in view of our temporarily diminished sexual activities for the reason I mentioned earlier. It is another flavor of Mistreat And Denial applied in love.

We watched a movie afterward as I struggled with trying to stay awake. After the movie I suggested to her that we “share some skin,” meaning, “let’s cuddle.” This means more than it sounds. I always get up early in the morning while she stays in bed. We plan to cuddle as a way of my waking her, but stuff happens, often in the form of cats who decide that they want attention. Many times she is up before I get a chance to sidle up to her and feel our nakedness together. This time, to make sure that we don’t miss our chance, I suggested doing it “here and now,” this evening. We both enjoyed it.

Mistreat And Denial

I have covered Tease and Denial (T&D) often enough. The last time I came up with a new idea, that of I&D (see Ignore and Denial). Alas, that did not turn out to be perfect either. So here is still another theme. I hope you love it!

Mistreat and Denial

I think that it began when she was searching her mind about what to put on my cock to give me something to think about while I was working on my current remodeling job. There are things that can be mildly irritating, somewhat painful, extremely irritating, and very painful. The Kali’s Teeth Bracelet (KTB) is all of that, so naturally, she chose it. She even helped with the installation. She is very kind that way.

In the past we installed the evil little device as near the base of my cock as possible. It just seemed natural to do that. This, of course, causes some problems whenever I sit, especially when wearing tight pants. That is not an issue when I am at home and indoors, for being in my natural state, there are fewer provocations to the Little Guy. My remodeling project requires me to go down to the garage and out into the drive way to use a radial saw every few minutes. Given that we have apparently straight neighbors, even though they are about 300 feet away, we don’t want to set them off. Besides, I don’t really want to end up in the county jail over something trivial like this, so I always put on my shorts before going outside. Pity. Anyway, the Little Guy suffered through yesterday and the night last. Today would have been the same. Except that she asked me how my last night was, and I explained, “I hurt like hell, which is why I was up at 2:30 on.”

Well, I must take the good with the bad. The only perturbation on the situation was her suggestion to change the position of the KTB. She had this perverse idea that if we put it near the head of my cock, then I would have fewer problems with sitting in tight pants. Not that I did much sitting during the night, but her leaps of reasoning seldom coincide with what I expect. I am sure that she was right.

After work I did drive to town today wearing tight pants, and I did not have the usual extreme pain near the base of the Little Guy. I did, however, have another extreme pain near his head. But I was thankful for her thinking of me that way. On the good side, I was able to remove my tight pants after I returned home, so the pain was relived immediately. Almost. The KTB is wrapped tightly on the surface of the Little Guy that is normally covered by the foreskin. It is the place that is the most sensitive to the touch.

The afternoon went well while I did some writing and general puttering about. She sent me an email whose content referred to http://www.locknkeep.com/LocknKeep/21/default.asp that I sent to her earlier. The message was,

“Okay... I went to the site, and got so turned on I wanted to jump on your face. I am sitting here pulsating........ I want to masturbate with a huge cock......have you eat me until I scream.......get my nipples sucked until I go out in an orgasmic blaze of glory.”

This was one of those “Holy Cow!” moments. She never does that. Well, never, except this time. I felt good about her being turned on like that, but bad at the same time for not being there for her to sit on my face and such. I always miss my chances.

MW made a wonderful dinner. We ate. I cleaned up afterward. She decided to start the evening early. Soon afterward I showered and joined her in watching a movie. I had had a fair amount of wine already, so I was ready to pass out early. She did not see it that way. She told me to make some tea. I did, and had some. In spite of the caffeinated stimulant, I was still ready to sleep.

Things changed a bit after that. She had me put “Saving Silverman” into the DVD player, and we began to watch it. We were about half way into the movie when she began to mess with my ON/OFF buttons. She knew exactly what she was doing. I could tell, for she was watching the Little Guy gaining stature. That in turn gave me a new kind of pain in view of KTB. Ordinarily I would have enjoyed watching that movie. The problem I had was that I could not really concentrate on anything except the pain. Good pain, bad pain, alternating.

My tits were thoroughly abused. Nothing bleeding, just painful. Then there was the Little Guy. He was now big.

Now, I ask you. “Have you ever had your cock between the jaws of a fierce feline with the sharp teeth sinking in?” I know, you ladies might not know the exact sensation first hand, so I am really asking the men out there. I could not pull away. In a way, I could have, but when MW pays attention to me like that, I could just as well have been shackled to the bed (I wish!). So I stayed.

Having my tits mistreated by her causes major erection almost instantaneously. That in turn gave the Big Guy more reason to fight against the KTB, which produced more pain. He was not about to back off, the bastard!

MW must have known exactly what she was doing. She began to flick the head of the Big Guy with her finger, and continued as she watched the movie. At that point I no longer enjoyed the pain, but I was a captive audience as such. The Big Guy pretended to enjoy it. He received reinforcement from the attention in several areas: the flicking, squeezing, the KTB, the tits which MW kept tender by repeated pinching, and the view of my beautiful MW as visual feedback to me. I gave up to the painful pleasure.

Of course, her plan did not include an orgasm for me. When the movie was over, she suggested that I write about the evening’s events. As you can tell, I am doing just that. At this point everything is back to normal. The Big Guy is little again, and the KTB is hanging in there. My tits are a bit tender, but there seem to be no damage anywhere. Maybe installing the KTB just behind the tip was a good idea. One thing is certain: I don’t think that I could masturbate on my own with this piece of vicious plastic on. Of course, she could make me do it, but that’s another story.

Epilogue

This is the day after the M&D episode. We both noticed significant swelling of skin on both sides of the KTB. MW decided that the device should come off. After removal we found some lacerations by the evil little teeth, and a patch of hematoma. I washed things thoroughly, and applied antiseptic ointment. I have stayed in my natural state since, so I am able to watch the development. It does not look like anything is about to fall off, but we may have to revise our approach to prescribed discomfort.

Mistress Wife Is To Have Surgery

Having sex between a man and a woman can result in pregnancy and subsequent child delivery. It affects the woman more than it does the man. MW and I have done that several times, and we have our prodigies to demonstrate the result. But the whole process comes with penalties. It is only lately that I have found out that our sexual congresses over the years have caused MW some physical problems.

She does have a problem, because of which, we have not had sex lately. We also are not going to have sex for a while for the same reason. She is planning surgery to fix things. That is very positive thinking.

I feel, however, that we could have done some wonderful things anyway. The kind of things that don’t tax her equipment in a bad way. Maybe she will allow me to masturbate. Not that it would be nearly as much pleasure as having any kind of sex with her, but it would be something that I could do while waiting. I believe that one orgasm missed is one too many missed, regardless of how it might have been obtained.

I know, her attention is diverted to the hard facts of what is coming up. She should not be burdened by my need to ejaculate. I would take her place if I could. I would suffer for her if that would make her be happy and safe. As it is, there is nothing that I can do.

Male Centered Activities

Tease And Denial

In recent history the consensus by women has been that giving a man all the sex he wants makes him stupid, lackadaisical and non-attentive. It did not take long for one of them to say, “He can go f**k himself before I do it for him again,” and then she decided to do nothing. As we know, divorces and breakups have happened because of that, so the approach may not have been the most expedient on the long run.

The consensus is based on blogs, forums, and some books on very stylized male-female relationships. If you accept that consensus, then you might agree with the principle of tease and denial (T&D), which explains the current big fad in D/S and FLR. As usual, it is a male centered activity promoted by males.

I don’t see what a woman would get out of T&D. Take “tease” as the first half of T&D. Why tease when she is already “denying?” Teasing is just so much extra effort to accomplish nothing, which is denying. After all, if a man wants something, and the woman denies it, nothing is done. Denying is easy. It takes no time, no effort, no money, no involvement.

So why tease at all? Is that going to improve her situation? Is that what she needs?

No. That is what he needs.

Sometimes when denial goes with the tease, it works great for a while, unless the “while” is too long. Then it suddenly doesn’t work. The woman has a sullen, bitter, resentful man or her hands. Even though he is likely the one who instigated the process, he is now totally unsatisfied. If she keeps teasing and denying for long, at some point he will rebel. Where does she draw the line? Well, she could ask him. He would give her an answer, even explicit instructions.

Forced Chastity

There is another issue that seems to go along with T&D. The issue is a matter of forced chastity for the man. The common theme in forums is that the woman forced chastity on the man because he masturbated too much, or he was philandering, or he was inattentive, etc.

Yeah. Right.

Regardless of the insidious method she may have used, I don’t see how a woman could realistically force a man into chastity against his will.

The other way of chastity device application is the man proposing it because he gets off on wearing one. She sort of goes along with it for a while.

One observation emerges from all of this. Assuming that the chastity is legitimate and constant, there is a little bit of irritating factor not mentioned much. Chastity devices cannot be used indefinitely without the keyholder’s attention from time to time.

This means no such thing as “Lock and forget.”

This means that she will have to spend time, effort, and attention to this pesky detail. Make sure the man’s parts are not damaged by long-term effects in some restrictive device. I am not talking “milking”, etc., just some sound maintenance, such as regular cleaning and checking for blood clots and edema and making sure that the dangly bits don’t fall off due to misuse or nonuse. Other issues are hygiene, dealing with bathroom usage, etc.

So why is she doing all this?

“In her own behalf, of course,” at least according to all the forums and blogs.

The “Other” Method

I have come up with a new improved version of tease and denial. It can be implemented with or without forced chastity. I call it, ignore and denial or I&D. Here is how it works.

The man does not tell the woman how to ignore him. After all, he would be silly to say, “Dear, I want you to ignore me. I have always wanted to be ignored by you.” Besides, she already knows how to ignore him.

Are you with me so far? This is definitely not topping from the bottom. This is definitely not male centered. If, or when he brings up the subject, she can say, “What?” and go back to watching her TV show. So far we have covered the first half of ignore and denial.

Next, the woman would be expected to deny the man’s need to be ignored. This too, should be easy for her. She has already practiced that part with the T&D, or vanilla for that matter, so she can apply it to I&D directly. Notice that she does not need permission, direction, or anything. She could take a vacation and be back in two weeks. Her absence would make no difference to the man. Isn’t this perfect? There is no room for complaints from man or woman. The woman is doing the job perfectly by doing nothing, and the man feels absolutely ignored and denied. Just like he wanted it. Only an ingrate would complain.

But wait! This is again centered on the man. Why would she do this if doing nothing already works? Dang! I thought that I had a good idea here.

Disclaimer (again)

Before I quit my tongue-in-cheek pontification, I want to declare some of my observations from my experience and from those writings that I assume to be real.

T&D and forced chastity are interesting games that sometimes satisfy both partners. They are not a way of life except in very rare circumstances. I don’t condemn them, I don’t dismiss them, I don’t care if everybody or anybody practices them. They are fun to read about and to practice. They are fun to be part of one’s bedroom activities. But please, don’t try to claim they are real when they are only a game. Leave that to admitted fiction.

A Way Of Life With MW: Part Two, The Resolution

Prologue

I related an incident A Way Of Life With MW: Part One, The Situation a week ago. I have been holding off the presentation of the resolution of it to see what some of you would have done, or assumed that I had done. Here is what happened.

How I Responded

I did not respond. I walked away to give her privacy with her friend as she talked on the phone. Yes, I felt hurt, but not in a way that would cause me to retaliate. I realize that she has problems that have nothing to do with me or this situation. I have agreed to serve her in any way, which includes helping her with any problems that she has. So, I am called to serve her at this particular instance. Like it or not, it is my duty if I try to be true to my commitment.

It took me just a few seconds to figure this out. I was over my “hurt”. It was not a thing that I had to address. I took it in stride, for I love to serve her. She was not being bad, bitchy, vindictive, or irrational. I don’t really want to analyze her action. I am her supporter in all circumstances, and this was just a minor test of my ability and willingness to do so.

A few seconds later I could have kissed her on the lips (or anywhere else), and say, “I love you My Sweet.” I did not do it because she was still on the phone.

Don’t misunderstand my intent. I don’t claim to be a saint, or anywhere near the perfect pet that she thinks I am. I simply practice kindness. That practice works well when dealing with reasonable people.

We have an understanding: whether she is right or wrong, it is her prerogative to fix my behavior under any circumstances. I may dislike the particulars, that is, the associated pain or embarrassment, but we both know that it is for the best on the long run.

A day later, after seeing my posting of the first part, she apologized in a very nice way. I appreciated that very much, but there was no need for her to do it. I know that she is a good person, and that is good enough. She just demonstrated that.

I hope that I can live up to all of this goodness that I claim of myself. Of course, she is known to whip my ass when I don’t. She is not being hurtful at those times. She is just expressing her opinion, and I love it.

Wise Guy Comments

Intelligence, Wisdom, Experience, Reliability

My definitions without first having consulted a dictionary:

Intelligence: willingness and ability to learn without being taught
Wisdom: willingness and ability to do the right thing
Experience: having made the mistakes, than applying them to improve one’s reaction to events
Reliability: accepting a commitment and following through

I am not talking absolutes here. All have a degree of measure. There is a lot we could argue about these definitions, but this is a monologue, so argument is not an option. However, you may leave comments.

Intelligence

I have read, and continue to read so-called “forums” on certain subjects. It can be any subject, but in our context it is CB, chastity, FLR, D/S, etc. The human mind has nearly infinite capability to assess something instantly, which computers have not, and may never be able to duplicate. For example, reading one of these “forums” a person presents some problem or an example of what he wants to elaborate. The posting is full of emoticons and texting shortcuts. There are mistypes and spelling errors. Grammar is not a major ingredient. Superfluous or missing phrases are the rule. The writer of this text is not quite what I would call intelligent. One might argue that the writer is simply uneducated. True, but why? One can become educated through self-motivation. There are books on many subjects.

Wisdom

Wisdom, experience, and reliability, are not easy to comprehend by a mind that produces such drivel. To that mind these concepts are foreign. Yet, he has an agenda. He can tell you or me, how it should be done, and how wrong we are when we are different. He makes rules. He is not a bad person, just limited.

I overcame some of these problems earlier in my life, but I am still struggling with the wisdom part. I don’t remember having made wise guy comments on purpose in the Blogosphere lately. However, in my self-education in female led relationship I was at a point where I could say something that sounded like wisdom. Of course, after I thought about it, I knew that it was just an opinion. Wisdom is different.

Now that I have attained wisdom, I can say, “A person is a poor judge of deciding whether he has attained wisdom.” I know, I am getting wrapped around that proverbial axle here. My point is, that whether or not I am wise, another person will decide.

Experience

Not one human will live long enough to claim to be an expert in our subject. At least not by first hand experience. Collecting case histories from people with some experience helps, but they need to be organized, and then analyzed. And there is the rub. We tend to just form a conclusion, and be done with it.

Aside from being so self-effacing and humble, I have a few points to make. When I began with this topic that covers FLR, WLM, D/S, etc., I had some notion of where I was heading. What I lacked was the experience (well, maybe wisdom too). Sure, I read books, and later blogs. But one can become an academic pain in the ass with too much learning but no real life experience. See any of the thousands of university professors for an example. It was not until I began to experience, or put into practice my liking of a female led relationship that I had actually accumulated experience. Sure, it was all based on sex, but that is how most men are wired. Where we separate men from boys is “the commitment to serve a deserving woman.” Oh, there is the word, “commitment”. That comes after a lot of learning, and most of us never get there.

Commitment

I already accumulated the ammunition via having read all the available female domination books. I knew that I had an affinity to serve women all my life, but the opportunity did not come up blatantly. I went through a tumultuous period of my marriage with my dear wife, and made a life changing decision that had nothing to do with FLR or D/S. It was not what kicked me in the butt, so to speak, to realize that I wanted to serve her.

My breakthrough came by a lot of self-analysis. Being dominated in the bedroom is great, but it requires a self-sacrificing service from my partner. My need to be dominated that way was just my need to dominate her into doing my thing. I had that eureka moment.

Not that all of this is clear, even now, just that I understand one thing: if I need to serve, then I must not anticipate or desire service in turn. Recognition of my service, yes, but not reciprocation. Oh my! Isn’t this profound?

Don’t think that I have become the perfect servant. I still have, and experience renewal of black and blue marks on my ass for failing. I love the life, so this is not a complaint. It is, however, a demonstration of my trying to improve the relationship that will never achieve perfection.

Why? I can name several reasons:

I am not truly committed to FLR
I am selfish and lazy
I am cheap
I am easily offended
I am never satisfied
I am fickle
I don’t pay attention
…

In other words, I am human. I may be better than the next guy, but not perfect. The road to perfection is challenging, but I have the rests of my life to walk it.

Post Script

I don't mean to be unfair, but I feel that I should present at least one example of lack of intelligence. This person has a fair vocabulary, but does not quite know what to do with it. Yet he thinks that just words alone will carry the message. In a way they do, but they also raise a flag: "Warning, there is no brain behind this!" This is not really the worst I have seen.

"recently i received a few websites to visit that were given to me by a couple masters/mistresses on here who were kind enough to take the time 2 try and help me figure out if the life of a slave was really for me,in these articles was a detailed list of outlines and expectations of what life as a born slave would be like,now before i read these articles all i knew is that i had these desires towards servitude ever since i was a young lad,and that in all my relationships and all of my bdsm adventures(4 lack of a better word)i had never met any one who enjoyed it as much (or as deeply)as i did,but i never considered myself a born slave,but as i read these outlines of rules/behaviour etc ifailed to find even one aspect of slavery that wasnt exactly what ive been looking for and wanting,this is where my title to this board comes into play because it was one off the most scary realizations that ive ever been struck with,is this my calling i asked?im left wondering if it is normal to be overwhelmingly happy yet deeply intimidated at the same time,if this is hat i was "meant"to do shouldnt i be over joyed and nothing else ?im struggling with where this intimidation/nervousness is coming from,what does one do when they realize their destiny/fate,now that i know where im meant to be,how do i get there?is that it?the source of my uncertainty? so im left wondering if anyone else has experienced this same --juxtaposition-so to speak of emotions after theyve found something that feels so rightand whether or not this is a good or a bad thing,mabey this is what pre wedding jitters are like perhaps,any way any thoughts abought this important stage of self realization in my lifewould be greatly appreciated,and i cant help but wonder where i go from here,thank u all 4 your thoughts sincerely ..."

I almost feel that he faked the atrocious style of writing. I think this because he has a good display of vocabulary. It also seems that he may have forced the writing to just run on to disguise his true self. If so, he has done a good job. Nevertheless, it is a fair representation of the prose out there.

Just Another Beautiful Evening

We had a great day again. MW thought that I should pay for it by marking my ass with a paddle. She mentioned it a couple of times, but did not do anything about it, so I did not anticipate much. I figured that she would forget.

MW was catching up on some email after dinner. I paid attention to her, to be sure that I could help her dry after a shower. I was about to shut down my own computer for the evening when she left the room. Alas, some chores got in the way in the form of furry felines. Upon my completing the chores she was already in the bedroom. I missed my chance.

The day before, and today she talked of my painting her toe nails with polish. We both prefer to do it when the sun is up, so I missed that chance too. I felt like a failure. I don’t know how she felt, but she did not seem to be angry about it.

She lay down in bed, and allowed me to kiss her feet before I picked up the lotion. I followed our evening ritual of applying lotion to her legs and feet. This is a wonderful opportunity for us to bond once a day. I give her pleasure and she gives me pleasure by allowing me to do this. I massage her legs. Her legs are impressive. They look good in nylons, bare, standing or walking, sitting or reclining. I could spend hours feeling them, kissing them, lovingly looking at them. Her feet are sensuous. With her sexy shoes she draws my attention. She can stand bare-footed and I drool over them. She can feel my face with her toes, part my lips with them, and have me make love to them with my tongue and lips. I get lost in pleasure.

But I digress.

After the massage she said something that I can’t remember clearly, but it had to do with getting close to the center of my being. Her heavenly aroma drew my attention already, so this was exactly what I needed. As usual, I misunderstood her suggestion, and tried to kiss her lips. I think she meant to sniff only. But even that was perfect.

We settled down to watch a movie on a DVD. She gets involved in some dramas, and tends to have bad dreams when the drama is violent. So, after the movie she picked another that was less stressful and more light-hearted to take the edge off the drama. I liked it, but was passing out as we sat side by side. With the movie over I was ready to sleep. She again reminded me of the re-marking of my ass. Well, I was not about to do it to myself, so I waited. I did not have to wait long.

She had me lie across her thighs, with those curvaceous beauties capturing the little guy and the boys. I am sure that they were as happy about that as I was. Just that they did not know what I knew was coming.

She used a homemade paddle that packs a heavy wallop. She was being very nice about it, not really trying to hurt me, just sort of. Well, you just had to be there at the receiving end to really appreciate that. Lying across her thighs is erotic by itself. I mean, one could give up a fortune to experience that. She had me do that. Can you imagine my ass up and the family jewels between her thighs?

I could not use my hands, but I felt as much as possible through our frontal contact. She began with the paddle. I thought that she would give me a few whacks, and then put me down for the night. She did give me a few whacks. They were light, then hard, then severe, then light again. I could not guess what would come next. After sixty or so whacks she began to work on the back and sides of my thighs, but not really ignoring my butt. At some point she picked up the pace so much that I lost count, and I just gave up the pleasure of her attention. It hurt, but in a really good way. She alternated barehanded strikes with the paddle, and then two-handed strikes. She was a virtuoso with her hands and instrument. I was no longer sleepy.

She had me kiss her thighs, the place where she had the boys captured during the Miss Treatment episode. It was appropriate, and I could have done more. But this was a special gift from her to me, so I did not feel greedy. I felt grateful. She may have hurt her hands on me. Such lovely self-sacrifice given to me. I love her.

I was expecting to be dismissed for the night, but she said, “You will write this up for your blog.”

“Yes.” After a pause, I said, “Do you mean now?”

“Yes, now,” she responded.

This is way past my bedtime. I could handle it, just that I have some mechanisms that always get me up early, like around three o’clock, and I need my sleep. One of the mechanisms is a cat. If that fails, it’s another cat. Sometimes it is MW who needs something, such as having me turning on or off a fan, opening or closing a window, or getting her a drink of water. Once I am up, I tend to stay up. I make the word’s strongest coffee, and settle down to mess with my writing and such using my computer.

Well, here I am, writing about the evening’s pleasures provided by my loving and lovely Mistress Wife. There is nothing that I would have changed about this evening. She can really make my life wonderful, and she is doing it.

A Way Of Life With MW: Part One, The Situation

The Way I See It

MW and I don’t kid each other about who is in charge. I know that I could overpower her in many ways, but I am not known to have done that ever, neither do I plan to do so. We used to wrestle, and she always won. Not because she was stronger and bigger than I was, but because she had her ways, and I loved it. We have not wrestled for a long time. I wish we would, and I would love to lose to her again, regardless of what the consequences of my losing would be. It is because I trust her. She would take advantage of me, but only for her pleasure. She would not destroy a wonderful relationship that we have forever.

Ok, so she is in charge. Maybe not the way I think that I would like it, but I really have no choice here. If I want her to be in charge, and I do, I follow her orders and her needs. There is no other way. It’s funny. “I want her to be in charge.” So who is really in charge, she or I? Is she doing her thing or mine?

It’s not really "my giving her the option to be in charge," as if I had it to give in the first place.

It’s not that "I let her play with the idea and the real thing." She can have the whole thing if she wants it.

It's hard to explain the reality of it. I want it, she wants it, I want to shed responsibility, she does not want to assume it, … You can see that there is not a clearly defined role for either of us here. Yet we still have a viable relationship. I want to be her pet, and she wants me as her pet. She may or may not want to pretend to be anything, but she may actually be, or trying to be the person in charge. It is detached from my being physically stronger. It is not because she may be stronger in several other ways. Then why do we both want her to be in charge? Strange situation.

I don’t need a chastity device to keep me from philandering. I also don’t need it to keep me from self-gratification. Yet, I am encased in one purely to satisfy my wife’s preference: she wants to be the one to control my private parts. It is effective. I could try to play with my parts, but there is only so much that I can do. I could try to make love to or with her, but there is only so much that I can do there too. Once the device is in place, she is in charge of it. I could break out of it, but she also has a mental chastity device on me, so I just don’t do it. So, here I am with a cage around my cock. It looks sexy, but does not get me anywhere. I think of her, and my cock gets fat and long. Too bad! The volume of the cage is limited.

Here Is What Really Happened

Take any regular American male in the following real scenario, and guess his response to this situation. You may substitute your own response.

The phone rings. The answering machine’s memory space is full, and can’t handle the new call. MW is very busy concentrating on a task from which she does not want to be disturbed. I pick up the phone to find out that one of her dear friends is answering an assumed emergency email from MW sent earlier. I explain to the friend that there is no real emergency, and then say, “Please talk to the Sweet Thing yourself, here she is,” as I am about to hand the phone to MW.

MW pulls back from me, and says in not a nice way, “Don’t do this to me. Who is that?”

I explain who is on the phone, and she takes the handset from me. All is well as far as she is concerned.

I was hurt. I was offended. I did not do anything wrong. I did what I was tasked to do. Yet she treated me as if I had offended her on purpose.

What do you think I did at that point?

Did I smack her in the jaw?

Did I say, “Up yours, too?”

Did I say, “There is no need to treat me like this?”

Did I go off in a huff and hold a grudge for hours or days?

I would appreciate your input here. I will report on how I actually responded in a subsequent post.

Am I Still In An FLR?

Why do I ask this?

Why am I in doubt?

It is because we are not acting the roles. I am not in frilly female clothes doing the dusting. She is not being bitchy.

I am not serving all of her female friends dressed as a maid while she is imperiously telling me where I failed.

I am not sucking her toes every day and giving her countless orgasms, and she is not teasing and denying me while keeping me locked in a chastity device or a dog cage 24/7.

She is not earning more than I do, and neither of us resent that.

She is not spanking me every day for real or imaginary wrongs (although I wish she would), and I don’t make mistakes on purpose to cause punishment.

We don’t seem to follow the script in any of the FLR themed books: Ms Rika, Elise Sutton, Lorelei, etc. (although I wish we would).

We seemed to have departed from general expectations.

Her position, her actions, her feelings are a matter of my interpretation, so I must present my view based on something more tangible: my position, my actions, and my own feelings. Here is what I see:

• I mop the floors, I clean the bathrooms, the kitchen, although not as often as I should (she does work on the kitchen sometimes).
• I vacuum-clean carpeted rooms.
• I wash dishes by hand after every meal.
• I make the bed every morning, and fold and put away the laundered items.
• I do the cars, the repairs, and the maintenance on everything including emergencies.
• I handle the family finances, I pay the bills, and I do arrange repairs and remodeling with or without external help.
• I discuss all issues with her: financial, medical, legal, family-related, long term plans, etc., and don’t go against her will when it is time to decide.
• I deal with the Sheriff, thieves, robbers, bankers, lawyers, wild and domestic animals.
• I deal with relatives and friends whenever MW does not feel like doing so.
• I give her all that I have and more, as long as she wants it.
• I don’t demand anything from her.
• We have sex at her convenience.
• We have sex when, where, how, and who is to be pleasured.
• I have sex only when she allows it, and how she allows it.
• I try to talk her out of feeling guilty when she experiences real or assumed failures.
• I am polite, respectful, and uncritical with her.
• I try to show my love in tender ways, and try to be there when she needs me.
• I love her for the children that she produced for us and the companionship that we shared over the years.
• I love her for being with me in spite of my faults.
• I love to be with her even when nothing is going on.

I make mistakes, but they are just that, not purposefully wrong things. I still wish for a very blatant FLR, but I take what I get instead. I still wish for total sexual domination, but I take what she gives me, and I try to give her what she wants.

Our relationship is not at all stylized. We don’t show off on purpose, although there are times when people envy her and our relationship. I feel good about that. Most of all I feel good about her when she is happy with what I give her. My position is that of a trusted, and loved slave. My purpose is her well being, I have powers to make that happen.

I am not a mindless tool who does only what I am forced to do.

I look for her love, satisfaction, and approval in all I do.

I look for her guidance when I am lost.

I need her discipline when I am wrong.

I miss her when she is not here.

She gives me much of all of that.

Is this an FLR?

Of A Supreme Female

Those of you who pay attention to my scribbling know this: I love women, I love to serve women, I desire women. But I don’t buy into the religion of female supremacy. Some females are supreme, and I have no problem with that. My problem is when supremacy is based simply on gender, ignoring intelligence, compassion, and accomplishments. The advocates of female supremacy are populated mostly by naïve submissive males, dominant females, and extreme feminists. They are entitled to their opinion, I just happen to disagree with them.

I generally stay out of political discussion on this blog, for this blog is not the forum for that subject. But, seeing that politics, feminism, and female bashing have come together this time, I feel compelled to say a few words.

Based on that, you may understand, that I was somewhat amused by the gushing about Hillary Clinton’s would be candidacy a while back. The writings on the blogs mostly in comments indicated that members of the female supremacy group were falling all over themselves to elect this woman for president. It was tacit that after election she would immediately establish a matriarchy that will right all wrongs, put all good old boys into slavery to women, and make pets of submissive males who are already bent that way. Women would no longer have to support their (fatherless) family, or work for a living for that matter. All housework would be done by willing or unwilling males drafted for the position. As to who would earn their living, was not addressed in general. I guess that would have come from taxes.

Too bad that Clinton did not make it. I guess there are enough good old boys among the Democrats to have made a hasty decision and pick her antagonist for the position. Just as bad, her antagonist could have selected her as a running mate, but no, the Democrats were not ready for a female vice president either. Instead, they chose a good old boy. I still can’t figure out how Democrats survive as a party while acting mostly like buffoons. Well, not being a member of the Democrat party, I can’t show my displeasure to the DNC, since I was not making contributions to them anyway.

What really prompted my discourse this time was a vitriolic piece by Richard Cohen. I understand his political view, and he has a right to take sides. What I totally disapprove is his ripping to shreds Sarah Palin just because she is Republican, forget the idiocy about her not being qualified. I could take each of his simpleminded sarcastic utterances and point out how baseless they are, but it is not worth my time, and this is not the place for it.

After being thoroughly mistreated by the Liberal media, Palin responded, “Here is a little news flash for all those reporters and commentators. I’m not going to Washington to seek their good opinion. I’m going to Washington to serve the people of this great country.”

Intelligence speaks.

Here is a supreme female. She has the gender, the intelligence, the compassion, and the accomplishments. I wonder who or how many of the submissive males, dominant females, and extreme feminists will say that she is the right person for the job. She could be president. Will they come to her aid against the deliberate Liberal attempt to destroy her, because they are afraid of her? Because Liberals are angry that the Democrats missed their chance to bring in a female candidate?

I am certain that Sarah Palin, if elected, will not institute the silly view of what was expected from Clinton. Clinton would not have done that either. First I expect that she will do a fine job of being Vice President. She will also be there to be President if she were to be called to do so. And, by the way, she is a great looking female, so some of us submissive men will get off on that.

The Day After

The dust has settled. MW has been home for some days. I remain horny as usual, and MW has been sweet and kind with some spice. I guess that she knew about the long-term effects of confinement on the Little Guy, so she generously gave him a rest, “When you finish your chores, you may remove the cage. Clean it and your parts, and report to me with the device of obedience in place.”

The device of obedience is also known as “signaling device”. The name depends on how it is used.

I did all the work I could do on my current remodeling project, and asked her permission to shower. After the shower I installed the electrical device, tested it, and reported to her. She, of course, tested it again. After all, we must be sure that the device works!

Seeing the swollen condition of my foreskin, she generously allowed me to remove the silver ring [more to be said in a later post]. That took some time, for the Little Guy stayed big, and the ring does not stretch. But, after an hour or so I was able to remove it with the aid of some lubrication and several increments of push and pull.

I don’t remember what caused her to decide that my ass needed re-marking. Nevertheless, she had me leaning on the bed with my butt in the air. The very stylized little flogger with the chains for tails


can be used gently, although it still hurts like hell, or with abandon. I show our heavy-duty home made paddle, and a Coke can for size comparison.

I can stand the pain, but sometimes The Boys get in the way, and that causes me to make some very unmanly sounds. I know that MW is a very sweet and loving mistress, and did not mean to hurt The Boys to that extent. Well, anyway, at least I think so. It could have been just a bad aim. But, according to her remarks as she observed my naked butt while I washed dishes later, “You were marked well.”

Well, I certainly hope so, after all the pain!

Damn, I am horny! There is no indication that I will be getting any sex in my behalf. Well, that may be wrong. Any sex in her behalf is sex in my behalf, but still, it would be nice to orgasm again. And again, and … I know, I am greedy.

She had me put on the silver ring again so that she could take some pictures. That somewhat diminishes the chance of my orgasm through intercourse for now. The ring is a bit intrusive to soft private internal female parts, so she seldom allows entrance with it on. However, it is on.

Removing the ring is a possibility. She would have me do that if she felt the need for the Little Guy masquerading successfully as the Big Guy. Then again, she could have me take matters in my own hands while supervising the proceeds. But she has never done that, and I don’t see why she would begin now. I guess it will be another two or three weeks of honing my horny skills. I am likely to become very sharp and pointy in spite of the dulling effect of the silver ring. It is kind of “damned if you erect and damned if you don’t” situation, with me mostly being “erect.”

I walk a tightrope where pain is on either side. Pleasure is a promised possibility if I manage to stay on the top. Falling into pain is likely, but then there is no promise of pleasure. I wish to stay on, but it takes extreme concentration. At times I even look forward to falling into pain so that I can abandon my concentration to stay on the rope. MW will, I am sure, accommodate either event, and I will accept it. I am a willing slave to her whim. I crave her attention. I serve her in many ways to deserve her attention. When she gives it to me she is generous. And then the cycle repeats.

Really The End Of Her Vacation

The Last Day Of Her Vacation

Saturday came, the day when I was to join MW at the resort for her last evening there. I packed my bag late afternoon, and left to do just that. On the way I stopped in town to buy some wine and other essentials and then entered the freeway to drive across the valley.

Upon my arrival she and the girls, Laura and Beatrice, were happy to see me as usual with the accompanying hugs, etc. We sat around sipping wine until dinnertime. I barbecued a steak for each of us. We had a pleasant dinner. Afterward I set up the massage table (we never travel light). I have a shoulder condition that I have been nursing back to usability. One of the ladies, Laura, is into healing, so she volunteered the help of the three of them to fix me real good. I am not much of a supporter of psychic healing, but I figured that I couldn’t go wrong with three women getting their hands on my body at the same time. I just hoped that the Little Guy would cooperate by not making a spectacle of himself. Even though I was dressed in shorts (outerwear) and teeshirt, he has a way to draw attention. I was ordered up on the massage table on my back, and then they took it from there.

If at this point you are expecting lurid details of an intimate massage, you may be disappointed. About the closest was when Laura felt bump under my shirt. “Have you seen a doctor about this?” she said. My wife answered before I had realized what bump she was talking about, “That’s his nipple.” I guess I should have had my shirt off to avoid misunderstandings of this nature. I wonder what they would have thought of the other lump that was forming further south of my nipple. Alas, they did not discover that one. I enjoyed being their center of attention.

After the session broke up MW and I retired to the mistress suite. I had expectations of sexual nature, but I could tell the she was not quite ready. It was also late, and we knew that we had to be up early, so we got naked and went to bed. We shared some skin, and then I passed out.

Going Home

I was up early the next morning. MW and her nocturnal friends were still asleep, so I left for the dining room where I set up the computer again to catch up with some chores. I checked MW a few times before the sun was up. I assumed that she would not mind being awakened around eight. I made coffee and returned to the bedroom to kiss her butt awake. I took my time to run my tongue over her twin dimples while inhaling her pleasantly musky aroma. She was up, I was up. We set in bed sipping coffee.

The plan we made the night before was to leave well before checkout time. I had a lot of work to do before I had to leave on another trip that involved a six-hour drive. I started thinking that this would put MW in a difficult situation. Her planned activities with her friends would be shortened, they would be rushed, she would need to do some chores at home that I normally do, and I would still be way behind schedule to set off on my trip. After being apart for a week already, except the three times I already mentioned, I would be gone for another four or five days. It was apparent that she did not want me to leave. She actually missed me. I made arrangements to postpone my trip until the next day.

After coffee we played a bit, and I put on something to make me appear decent in polite company. Read that as “I did not want to scare the straights with my PA piercing, tortured tits, and shaved balls.” I put on my athletic shorts and tried to keep my poor tits out of view. The women were in the living room already packed. I apologized for being two hours late in the implementation of our plan, and asked them to relax, for after we check out we are going to lunch. After they tossed around a lot of guilt, and worry about my late start of my trip, I generously allowed them to thank me profusely. When MW showed up all dressed, she found three happy people.

Not having eaten since dinner the night before, I was ready for breakfast. MW had other Ideas, and I began to load the Beast. The luggage, food, and furniture were to go into three distinct heaps on the floor, which I could then translate to the vehicle. There was a good reason for this. The longest time was consumed by unloading the refrigerator. Since I was the only one with an ice chest, MW ended up loading it to the gills with perishables from the almost full refrigerator. She always returns home with more food than she takes on a trip.

I checked out at the front desk, and we were leaving just as the maid pushed her cart into the unit. We agreed to meet at the Dos Amigos restaurant for lunch. The two ladies went ahead to, I assume, enjoy a drink, while MW and I drove to Beatrice’s condo and I unloaded their luggage. As I said, there was a lot. Only ours remained in the Beast. We joined them at the restaurant.

We shot a couple of hours on lunch, then MW I headed back toward home.

At Home Again

Our dogs and cats were happy to see us. I unloaded the luggage and ice chests, and attended to chores. By the time I finished we were ready to have a drink and relax. But MW still had things for me to do. After I showered she had me put on the CB3000. It was not for punishment or denial; it was just because she could make me do it. While in my natural state I did some computer work for her, paid some bills, and was finally in a position to relax early evening.

We enjoyed the evening. It was good to be home again. I suggested that I could get a real early start on my trip in the morning. She expressed her wish to have coffee with me on the top deck, something that she missed while she was away. It was thus decided by her that I would leave later, in order to give her my time.

In the morning I was up early again, did some messing around on the Internet, and bumped into her in the dark unexpectedly. It appears that one of the cats awakened her. Dawn was just becoming visible. I made our coffee, and we met on the upper deck. The morning air was cool enough to be pleasant, due to the breeze. We talked until the sun came up from behind the mountain.

We returned to the bedroom where she instructed me to remove the cage. I did, and was back with her in a flash. She drew me on top of her and did that wonderful thing with her fingers and my on/off switches.

“You know, I could give you your thrill afterward, I hinted that maybe this time she would allow me to server her orally after I have had mine.

“You could do it now,” she replied.

I did not wait, but turned around and began to do that wonderfully fragrant and tasty chore that I love so much.

I think that she was trying too hard. By her admittance she had one orgasm, but I could tell that it was not an earthshaking event. She stopped me after that because of an instant headache. We paused, and the headache was gone in a while. I rejoined her at the top and we continued with very traditional sex.

She whispered, “Maybe I will have you clean me afterward.”

She usually says something like that to mess with my mind, so maybe this time she meant it, I thought. Whether or not she meant it, it did not happen. I did have an excellent sendoff. It’s interesting how we behaved almost like newlyweds, but with a kink.

After I finished some chores I had breakfast, and then loaded my luggage into the Beast. It took me a long time to get away, because somehow she kept finding more things for me to do. I don’t think that the dead rat floating in the bucket of water outside the front door was done by her in an attempt to delay my departure. We have had some rains. In any case I did have to dispatch the dead animal.

The last chore she had for me was to photograph her standing on the bridge while I stood below with the camera. It was done, and I could leave on my trip. We kissed again, and I was gone.