Cartman as submissive

"You see? This is the behavior we've been looking for: a relaxed, submissive state."

I wonder how many other women watched that and went a bit glassy-eyed at the thought of doing that to a man. Totally unrealistic, but still...

The adage says "Never say never."

I say, never say never, be damned. I will never buy a chastity device.

I suppose I can kind of understand the appeal of it. The denial of orgasm to the man. The focus on non-penetrative pleasure for the dominant woman. The emphasis it places on ownership of the cock not by the man to whom it is attached but by the woman whom it serves. I've even had a few male chastity blogs in my feed reader from time to time.

But I don't like it. And here's why: It hides the cock and it assumes that women's best pleasure is not from penetration. I'm willing to suppose that's true for some women, but I wouldn't go so far as to say most.

I sneer at this "penetration is not as good" viewpoint the same way I sneer at straight women who don't like to look at penises. Those women, I do not understand.

I like penises, the same way I like the rest of the male form, hair and all. I think penises are endlessly fascinating and erotic. Why on earth would I hide them in ugly plastic cages? And I love having a cock inside me. When I was a raw noob to BDSM, that desire for penetrative sex seemed to me in conflict with my desire to dominate. To get around that, I purposefully cultivated an ability to come on a cock with little or no thrusting. Although I've thoroughly gotten over that whole "dominant women don't want to get fucked" bullshit, I still cherish this ability. (And it later led to me dream up my favorite game ever.) It allows me to have the sex I want, whenever I want, and still restrict my partner's orgasms.

Do I want my boy's cock to belong to me and me only? Yes. But I can own it without putting it under lock and key. I expect my boy to obey my rules about where, when and how he can have orgasms; and to fess up and suffer the consequences if he breaks the rules. That is part of my dominance.

And besides, why would I ever want something that gets in the way of my favorite man-handle?

Sadism as Anger Management

I woke up angry the other morning. It had nothing to do with you, but I could feel the anger goading me to take it out on you nonetheless.

So I did.

I know everyone in BDSM says not to strike in anger. That an angry dominant is not an in-control dominant. That always made sense to me.

I did it anyway.

I told you to kneel in front of me. I held the underside of your jaw, forcing you to tilt your face up to me. And then I slapped you.

And just like that, the anger was gone and the space between us was filled with your submission and your pain and the sudden hot rush of blood to my cunt. I pushed you to the floor, demanding your cock, hard, now. I rode you with my hand still wedged under your jaw so that you had to strain to look down your body at me. When I came with my nails in your neck and your chest, you flinched and whimpered.

Bad Puppy

For those of you with no experience of dogs, this is a pinch collar. I've always wanted to use one of these on a submissive.

But I won't. It's just not feasible. Because it's designed for the fur of a dog's neck, it's not comfortable enough for anything more than a short scene. Worse, there's the consideration of how careful you have to be to pull only from the front to prevent putting pressure on the front of the bottom's neck—and even then there's potentially dangerous pressure to the sides of the larynx.

But, oh, how delightful it would be for this position.

Now if only someone would design a safer and more comfortable version of this for kinky use... preferably in stainless steel... ?

Marks

Tonight I'm going to mark your face.

I'm aiming for subtle bruises. Small hematomas, nothing grandiose, just at the corner of your mouth near the jaw. This is precision work, you understand. You're going to have to stay very still, and it's going to take a very long time. It will be a small pain, but over and over and over, until the skin is as red and swollen as I want it to be. Then you'll make love to my clit with your bruised mouth. Giving me pleasure will cause you pain, and make my orgasm that much sweeter. Before I let you sleep, I'll make you count the number of cuts your teeth have left on the inside of your lip.

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What will you tell the people you work with tomorrow? That you got into a fight? I wonder if anyone will think to ask if your opponent was a woman.

Maybe I should leave nail marks so there's no doubt.

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When you leave for work in the morning, I will roll around in bed thinking about that mark. I will masturbate on your pillow before I leave, so that in order to smell what I've left for you when you return, you'll have to press that painful lip into the cloth.

And the best part of all is that for days on end, there will be no hiding my mark of ownership. It will be there on your face for everyone to see, and yet no one will know but you and I.

The Submissive Man's Complaint

Seems I've heard it from dozens of submissive men. I'm sure you've heard it, too.

"Why are all the dominant women wasting themselves on relationships with dominant men?!"

Okay, maybe they're not insensitive enough to use quite those words, but you get the gist of it. And I guess I didn't really understand it either.

Until last night.

Last night I was at a bar, and I began hitting on a guy who caught my attention. How did he catch my attention, you ask? Well, first off, he was hot. Clothes that fit well enough to show off his lean build and the muscles that were clearly not from the gym but from hard physical labor. Sleeves pushed up to show the definition in his arms and the thick calluses on his hands. Physically, he was masculine, which I think is something a lot of submissive men think they don't need to be. I am a big fan of the classically-fit male form and lemme tell you, androgynous, he was not. Beyond that, he was direct and confident and talkative and flirtatious. He was not in any way apologetic or submissive. He made me laugh. And he had the most beautiful and expressive eyes. Once past the initial attraction, I could see in his eyes that he wanted to play, and that he was trouble. I could tell that he wanted to fuck me and make it hurt... and make me like that it hurt. And he knew how to keep me interested.

He taunted me.

Oh, it was infuriating... and it was an absolutely irresistible goad to someone as competitive with men as I am. It is not in my nature to cede control. I wanted to fight him for it, and so I taunted him back. A little personal doubt here. A little scorn there. He couldn't resist it either. Things escalated.

Was it a gamble on my part? Definitely. Maybe I wouldn't win. Maybe he'd overpower me. (But that would be okay too, because I think he really could make me like that it hurt.)

But I could make him beg. And squirm. And curse. And love every fucking minute of it.

Sometimes he'd win and sometimes I'd win. Maybe he'd even win more often than I would. But it would always be a challenge, and it would never be boring.

________________

There's no happy ending to this particular vignette. (He was looking for a one-night stand, I wasn't. Whatever.) But I thought maybe sharing this will shed some light on that question that seems to torment so many of you.

A New Game

Tonight we're going to play a new game. You're going to get hard for me, and after I bind your hands to the headboard, I'm going to straddle you, with your cock inside me.

And I'm not going to move. There won't be any thrusting. None of the friction you'll crave, and no release.

But I'm going to come. Oh yes, I certainly will. And between the moments where I clench and moan around your cock, I'm going to hurt you. There will be pinches, and slaps, and clothespins, and the mean little rubber flogger, and if things go on long enough maybe we'll even get to that cunning little dagger that you're so afraid of.

The object of the game is to see how many times I come before you start to beg me to move on your cock. You will be counting my orgasms, and there will be a penalty if you lose count. If I get to ten, maybe I'll actually let you come tonight.

Shall we begin?