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Acutal message on YT: This video has been removed due to terms of use violation. Come on!!!!!!!!!

Twisted Monk addresses this in his blog today April 2nd, 2009

In August of 2007 I wrote:

Using sir can give me such delicious feelings of surrender, joy, safety, sexual tension, anticipation, nervousness…any number of wonderful intriguing emotions. It reminds me that I can be myself with that individual, expressing my submissive nature comfortably.

It’s been less than 2 years since I wrote that but it feels like a lifetime ago…At this moment in time I feel far, far removed from the person who once felt the desire to kneel at someone’s feet and feel a sense of their ownership.

What’s changed? Well, my living situation, my relationship status, my career, my whole life really.

Now, toss in menopause.

Quite a mix, huh?

Last Summer I pretty much moved in with my partner who identifies as a daddy dom. I still have my apartment but it pretty much has become little more than a storage space. (We need to deal with that…:;sigh::) I started back to college full time in September after a 30 year career, and promptly entered menopause.

At times I wonder where I went and who I became.

The submissive is still in there…although she only gets to express herself as a little girl these days. (Daddy is not into bondage or service…) In many ways it’s the woman who is lost. Or should I say temporarily misplaced? Because I do hope this is a temporary state of mind.

I liked the submissive who could be turned to jelly with a tug of the hair. I liked the submissive who could drop into subspace so deeply, so without inhibition. I was proud of how strong, how weak, she could be. Content with what I could offer a dominant partner.

Right now, I have few moments of such familiar contentment.

This is not meant to sound so pitiful. I wouldn’t call myself depressed, or even unhappy.

Just unrecognizable.

For so many years I focused on BDSM, and focused on my career. I defined myself within those perimeters perhaps more deeply than I should have. And, for the moment, those definitions don’t fit in the same way. They’re altering, mutating, re-adjusting…

In time the new identities I’ve taken on will fit. They will bring me back to a mirror-self I recognize.

I like my new life as a little girl, as a full-time partner who shares in the daily living that is making meals, doing laundry, sharing…I’ll grow to feel confident and competent in my new career, and wake up happ to be going to work, to be helping people again. But this time I’ll know better than to allow my definitions of who I am to be too narrow.

Partner, optician, submissive, writer, photographer, friend…

…and more…many more identities I haven’t discovered yet, I hope.

So, take a moment to look at yourself in the mirror. Ask yourself who you are, and make sure you’re recognizing, and embracing all of yourself. You’re many more facets than you think…and that’s what makes a gem.

Now, back to battling essays, memorizing formulas, and hot flashes…before snuggling with Daddy in front of the TV.

Bonderella is a bondagette who believes in educating those around her.  The little vixen knows that Mother Superior is just a misguided soul and can see the light when shown the way. Good job, Bonderella!

I’m working on developing a comic strip about our sweet vixen very soon. Stay tuned!

I’ve been thinking a bit about rope lately. Okay, a fair bit. A lot even. And not just recently either.

But I digress.

Rope is wonderful. We all know it. We love the different textures and colours of rope; the easily adjusted lengths of it. We love the way it hugs us when it goes on, the way it makes us shiver when it’s removed. We love the ligature marks. So, it comes as no surprise that when I noticed a link to a DIY rope gag, I had to check it out.

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I was pondering the idea of rituals in M/f D/s relationships and started wondering why a fair amount of them seem to revolve around the submissive’s appearance.

I suppose a lot of it revolves around the fact that so many men are visual and the way a woman dresses and does her hair can make a huge difference in his feelings towards her.

In so many long term relationships it seems the fire and sexual energy dies after a period of time and my guess is that so much of that comes down to the old adage about familiarity breeding contempt.

Moving in together (even just part-time living together) can play havoc on any relationship. So many of us greet our man in high heels and mascara at the beginning of the relationship, and then eventually start greeting them in flannel pants and t-shirts. It’s often just a matter of necessity and convenience, and pretty unavoidable.

Lingerie that creeps up our backside, or fails to cover our bottoms, finds its way to the back of the drawer and we stop worrying that he’ll see us in the comfy cotton ones our mom gave us for Xmas.

After a while those rarely comfortable push-up bras and bustiers only come out on special occasions, and as they things wear out – or stop fitting! – we find there are more serious things to spend money on.

So, one obvious reason for this apparent obsession with appearance is that when a male dominant takes charge of his submissive’s appearance he is ensuring that his desire for her will stay fresh. He heads off the problem of her letting the visual stimulus fade, and if his tastes change he simply starts leading her her into his latest fantasy look.

This is only one aspect however. There are deeper layers around controlling such basic adult choices as what clothing to wear that can truly make a submissive feel she has given over power to the man she wishes to please.

There are also the delicious darker kinks of objectification that come from carefully orchestrated appearance choices.

She can become little more than a doll for him to dress, perhaps. Or he can turn her into a schoolgirl, a whore, or a french maid for a period of time, and she ceases to be his lover, his friend, his partner. She is now a new woman he can explore, make love to, abuse…whatever tickles his fancy.

Most males love variety when it comes to sex and poly is not for everyone.

These things that work so well for male dominants work for most female submissives, as well. Many of us enjoy the kink of being someone society doesn’t let us be. We also love the loss of control we feel when faced with something as fundamental as losing the right to choose our underwear.

When a dominant makes a decision about these things the female submissive may find herself in a position all day long of being reminded of the D/s relationship.

Just ask any submissive who has worn some article of kinky clothing under her work clothes.

Hot, hot, hot.

I’m sure I’m only tapping the surface here, but there are very good reasons that these rituals are so attractive to those of us in the lifestyle. It’s no wonder we instinctively lean towards them.

Myself included.

This week’s prompt asked the question: How has kink improved your relationship?

As a genetically inclined people-pleaser I’ve never been good at asking for what I want. When it came to relationships I always felt guilty that I might be forcing my partner into doing something he didn’t want to do and that eventually he’d decide I was a bossy selfish person and leave. (Not a really rational way of thinking but then many habits aren’t logical, are they?)

In the past I tended to deal with this discomfort by keeping my needs and wishes to myself, and trying not to let eventual resentment take over in the long term. Not exactly the healthiest way to keep a relationship happy and alive, huh?

D/s gives my relationship a nice tangible power structure that allows me to see that there’s a difference between being demanding and selfish, and making healthy, mature requests to get my needs met.

I’m expected, as an intelligent respectful submissive, to lay my needs (and my wants) out on the table for discussion. It’s then up to my partner to make the final decisions which takes any layer of guilt off my shoulders. As a dominant person his job is to be aware of my needs and not to allow me to sacrifice them for his sake. Knowing this I’m compelled by the code of my relationship to make my needs and wants apparent to him.

Just knowing that my partner will take the discussion into account when making decisions helps me to feel valued and loved. Knowing that he will choose an action that is best for the relationship – and therefore best for me – allows me to be at peace with his decisions.

Odd as it may sound being in a D/s relationship as a submissive has allowed me to become a more assertive individual. In – and out – of my relationship.

In a comment on my Consenting Public post Puppy Princess wrote:

My 13 year old grandson thinks my collar is cool; he doesn’t think it’s odd in the lease. He’s just used to it. He may have asked me why I wear it once; I told him that I like it, that I think it’s pretty and he was content with that answer. Could some people, perhaps, be over thinking this one?

I think there’s a lot of over-reaction in the BDSM community, all in the name of trying to be safe, sane and consensual. I applaud the SSC tenet as just a basic good approach to life, really, but it’s like political correctness, it can go way too far!!

I’m not a cookie-cutter type person, I never truly fit the social mold and I’m sure almost every kinkster agrees that they felt, most of their life, that they just didn’t quite fit the conventional life. I never really wanted to, and I doubt I ever will want to. The plain truth is I like being a bit different, I like being a bit odd by social norms.

I don’t want just one type of cereal everyday for breakfast, I don’t want steamed broccoli every night for dinner. And while I love a little spicy curry in my diet I wouldn’t want it as the sole staple of my culinary existance.

Variety is not only the spice of life, it’s the spice of sex and love as well.

I wasn’t willing to conform in grade one, I never conformed in my early adulthood, and, as I sit here, at the ripe age of almost-50, staring at the pile of college textbooks waiting for me to return to studying for tomorrow’s exam, I can see that I haven’t learned conformity yet.

And I sincerely hope I never do.

Society could benefit from a little shaking up, a little splash of cold water on its face. Isn’t it about time we woke up from the silly dream that we are all alike and we all live in this safe sterile world where all the leftovers neatly fit the stacking tupperware containers in the fridge?

Let’s not forget, if it wasn’t for mold we’d never have penicillin.

Don’t be afraid to rock the boat, just make sure you do it at a depth where you can swim, and wear protection against hypothermia and jelly-fish. No need to risk your life.

Splash on, dear kink-folk, splash on!

We all hear the constant talk about dominants and their honour. We know, without thinking much about it that a dominant needs to be honourable, and we quickly step in to denounce a dominant we feel is lacking in it.

But exactly what is honour…and is it only confined to dominants?

Do slaves, submissives, bottoms have honour? Do we need it?

Honour, for me, is all about inner accountability.

As adults we experience a certain degree of outer accountability, but for the rest, we’re on our own. It’s easy enough to get away with things; no one can watch you 100% of the time. And many things we can get away with, with no one being the wiser.

Occasionally we all play a little loose with our honour. Perhaps sneaking in a quick phone call during company time, or putting less than our best effort into something we agreed to do.

Is it wrong? Technically, yes.

Is it harmful?

Well, perhaps that’s debatable.

Will my boss suffer because I spent 5 minutes on the phone instead of working on a file that I end up handing in by deadline? Not really, and we can argue that it’s pretty much a given that employees will do these things, and as long as it doesn’t interfere with our work the employer opts to look the other way.

A trade-off.

We can always rationalize it in our heads, and most of us do, in order to allow us to step out of our sense of honour and give in to the baser impulse.

But, later, even if we don’t get caught, we can’t help but hear the nagging voice of guilt in our head. We know it was wrong, and even if it wasn’t harmful, it still feels like a bit of sand in our shoes. Our inner accountability is our voice of honour, perhaps.

How does this relate to BDSM?

As a submissive I am often in the position of making promises and following rules and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even when the situation grates on me a bit, I like exercising my honour. I like knowing I have a sense of inner accountability that can rise to a challenge.

We talk about Tops and Dominants having honour all the time, but when I agree to something that my dominant can’t check up on, I’m on my honour to do the right thing.

Otherwise, I’m cheating. I’ve devalued the relationship I have, and tagged it as less important than whatever impulse I was wanting to indulge. I’ve truly cheapened what I’m supposed to cherish, when I am less than what I can be, made the relationship less that what is should and could aspire to.

In those situations, when I bend the rules, it may seem unlikely my dominant will suffer. But I will. And that’s not the kind of suffering I look forward to.

Of course, that’s just one example of where we need to show honour. It’s in our commitments to each other, and to the world around us. When we do our best, when we hold to our honour we help make the world a better place.

Personally I’ve come to expect honour from myself, and from anyone I let into my closer circle of life. I don’t care whether they capitalize their name or not, I don’t care where they think they sit on the power exchange scale, the sexual orientation scale, the gender scale, or even the weight scale for that matter.

Honour is a quality I value, in myself, and in the people I love. Bottom line (no pun intended!).

The next time honour is brought up on a fetish forum, or at a munch or kink workshop, take a moment to see if people are holding all of the fetish community up to the same standards or are they simply dragging out a double-standard and airing it as Truth.

You might be surprised.

Had a great time at the Rascals Halloween party last night.

There were so many wild and crazy costumes. Some traditionally frightening, some wonderfully imaginative and many just plain sexy.

Probably the funniest moment of the evening was glancing over from where I was helping some lovely gal pals tie up a delightful male bondage bottom to see one of my favourite doms all gussied up as a french maid, flogging his sub with his usual thorough abandon. Complete in beard, stockings and a blonde wig.

Now that was worth the price of admission!

R. looked very imposing and authoritative in his cop costume; I’ll definitely have to ask him to wear that again sometime! Sexy! I was decked out with wings, not surprisingly; I know the little fairy inside of me has just been shrieking to get out. (I so looove Halloween!)

Two of my favourite regulars showed up in wondrous full-body wildcat costumes, and naturally they were the first thing I noticed. I wasn’t absolutely sure who they were at first but that didn’t stop me from heading over there to have a self-indulgent kitty-snuggle moment.

I just couldn’t resist the urge to drag my hands all over He-Cat’s slinky-soft fur, and She-Cat was so scrumptiously sensual, I just wanted to crawl into a huge kitty bed with them and heap like kittens. What a deliciously decadent pair they made!

After I left them to go visit with another friend I watched them from a distance and finally figured out who they were. I was thrilled, because I’m very fond of both of them.

Later, I dug my own favourite leopard ears and gloves out of my bag and went over for a little furry-bonding. She-Cat and I had a very scrumptious kitty-moment that quickly led from purrs to yowling and scratching – as kitties will do. But we dragged He-Cat into a cuddly-rub and all was well again.

::puuurrrr::

I do hope they bring out their wildcat-selves again soon. I so want to have more furry feline fun! This is one area of my play-self that so far I just haven’t had an opportunity to explore in depth, unfortunately.

Later R. and I had a chance to get out on the dungeon floor and indulge in some delicious impact play with paddle and rope flogger. He was very commanding, and dragged plenty of Yes Sirs!, and No Sirs, out of me.

::melt::

I love the fact that although it was mostly an impact play scene R. made it nicely sensual instead of blatantly sadistic; I do hope we get to do some more of that!! I know he’s interested in doing some play with the medium weight suede flogger we have, so maybe I can coax him into that sometime soon.

Last night was hands-down one of the best nights I’ve had at Rascals; The fairy and the kitty got to come out, I got to play with friends, and with my daddy/dom/cop as well.

Slept like a baby last night and now I’m looking forward to a dinner munch tonight. I’ve had to alter the munch I organize and it’s been quite the chore changing websites, and posting everywhere local to clarify the changes. Still, it’s a great munch and I’m proud of it. I’m not a great event organizer-type-person. I admire the work they do, but it leaves me wanting to pull my hair out generally. I’m lucky I have a nice group supporting this munch.

A perfect weekend, really, and one I badly needed after all the stress I’ve had the last 2 weeks.

Now, if only I didn’t have homework to do…