Expanding Horizons…

So tonight instead of bending someone to My will, I attended the Norweigen Celebration in Fairount Park. Now, I am not a fish person (no lesbo jokes, heh heh) but I went to support a friend and ended up meeting several new people and tasting quite a few things I would never have before. I have found I like salt-cured salmon on toast points, and I can abide seafood soup so long as I avoid the actual seafood chunks in the broth. Eating shrimp is a no for me, and since this shrimp was served with heads on, absolute no no no… But it does prove you can teach an old dog new tricks (hey! Not that old!) and that there is always room for more in your personal palate….

I have several subs that have come to me practical virgins… and now they are some of the broadest ranging I have. I have, for instance, a sissy slut that came to me knowing what she/he wanted, but unable to express it or be in a non-freaked head space after a session. He/she warned me that typical behavior was to bolt to the bathroom, hurriedly dress and leave in a panic. Our first session, after all was said and done, I witnessed this “freak-out”, and instead of allowing the headspace of our session to subside, I kept my distance and still stayed close enough to stroke my sub’s leg and croon encouragment while they subsided to the real world. Ever since, zero problems with coming down from a mind-fucked session. Even the rawest newbie can adapt with the proper support system. And even the cruelest top can be a font of care and concern when needed to be.

Sometimes it’s not what you do in a session but the way you take care of your partner after that matters. I often stress in my “intro to BDSM” classes that the most important part of playing is the bonding and easing out of the headspace you get into and reassuring each other that what you are doing is not sick, or wrong, or anything other then your own personal likes- it’s merely a part of who you, and so many many other people, are.

But back to trying new things… I love it when a sub I’ve seen comes to me and has new ideas they want to try. Some work, some don’t, but often the things I do spontaenously work out the best. Depending on the mood, I often interject something new, something we’ve never done or that they’ve expressed interest in. Often they are surprised and enjoy themselves immensely, not knowing that something they would never have chosen by themselves would have such a positive return. Rarely though they react negatively, and this is a true Dom’s role- to read your sub and adjust accordingly. Unless you are a true sadist (and if so, have found a masocist who understands your game and plays accordingly, willingly, to your particular kink), causing unwanted pain in your bottom is not the point. Dominating your partner is. Forcing your will on them so that they want to fufill your desires is the goal. But if they don’t enjoy your desires as you do, then it loses the shine of the moment. It takes you from an actual dominator to a mere playground bully. And that’s the last thing a real Dom is, isn’t it…? So common, so low brain. Anyone can be an asshole, but it takes a true master to learn to read the body and emotions of their subservient… don’t you agree?


Mistress X


A few of my favorite things…

Sometimes when I am at home I wonder about having a little pocket slave to do mundane things for me. Like my laundry. Or cleaning my kitchen floor, preferably in French maid garb. Or when I’m relaxing with Domina Lexx watching movies, to massage my feet and paint my toenails. Or scoop the poo out of my cat trays. Mostly tho I think it would be fun to have some who would quietly move around my home, tidying up, making sure dinner is ready and preparing a hot bath for me without even having to ask. Sometimes I think that would be fun, but I know that would not be the ideal situation for me.

I relish my privacy. I love the peace and quiet of my home. I like being able to know that I can sit around bare ass naked, reading a book and drinking wine, with no one to bother me. And while it would be amusing to have a naked slave to prop my feet on instead of my leather ottoman, I could only do with that for a weekend. I love the idea of having a sub over to clean my carpets- real ones, not my beaver, pervs 😉 – and then sit quietly by my feet while I shop online with their credit card and allow them to massage my calves. I think I could truly enjoy a weekend of using someone as my furniture and having them organize my panties by color and texture- but that would be all.

I adore chaining a slave to my dungeon wall and treating them to a a thorough lashing with one of my floggers, or binding them up in plastic wrap and gagging them and leaving to have a drink while they painfully await my return. I love blindfolding and playing loud music so that they only know where I am by my perfume, my breath and the gentle touches I may treat them to before I run an electrical current through their balls. But I also love watching a slave indulge in their fetishes too. Watching a slave caress and lick my feet, savoring every inch of the soles, sucking on my toes and watching that light of happiness come into their eyes gives me my own sense of pleasure too. Or forcing a slave to watch in the mirror as I torment them, and always that same look of “coming home” settles in their faces. It is reminiscent of seeing a small child lick an ice cream cone, or stressed-out smoker take that first drag of a ciggie after a stressful day. But would I want to come home and have to be “on” all the time? No. Not even for that look of bliss that tells me I have done a very good job topping whoever I may see that day.

This is why I love my job… I get to be the secret me and indulge in what truly satisfies me, then go home to my every day life with a secret smile upon my lips…. Bliss.

Idle thoughts of a Dominatrix….

Sometimes it’s nice to get away, but it’s always nice to come back home. The Bahamas are great, sunny, hot and with a plethora of people to watch and be amused by. Why is it that no matter where you go there are always “those people”? You know, the guy who looks like he’s wearing a hair shirt in the Speedo on the blanket next to you, the fat woman in the tiny bikini, her rolls of fat glistening with tanning oil… the hot girl who spends her time making sure everyone is looking at her and therefore making herself UNATTRACTIVE, and the Jersey Shore rejects strutting the beach, talking in bad New York accents and enough hair gel to style a third-world country. Then there’s me, huddled on my lounger in a white men’s button down shirt under the umbrella, frantically reapplying sunscreen and still getting burned. You know, that girl that as they walk by, everyone wonders what the hell she’s doing on a beach when it’s obvious the sun hates her?

Well, even the albinos of the world need some downtime, peeps. So sunburn and freckles be damned, I am going to read my trashy novels and drink too many mixed drinks and attempt to tan, damn it! I had such a great time in Atlantis, all the water slides and rafting, and the general malaise in the air. Still, I found myself doing what I always do, sizing people up, wondering if the guy who won’t put his Black Berry down and talks self importantly secretly wants to be bound up in duct tape and have someone piss on his face. Or if the skinny business man in the droopy swim trunks and a pot belly whiter then my legs is wishing to be dressed in women’s clothes and forced to submit to S/O worship. And, does that older gentleman with that hot younger woman (and I can’t tell- daughter? wife? Mistress?) is waiting for the sun to go down so he can be tied to a bed and thrashed soundly with a cat o’ nine tails…

This is my secret game. I like to sit out in the real world and wonder what kink random strangers are hiding. Does that lawyer have on women’s undies under that power suit? Is the weird guy in my mailroom a closet leather fetishist? What would my boss look like dress up in a pink maid’s outfit and high heels being chased around my dungeon with a paddle while I accuse him/her of stealing from me in a roleplay? I suppose it’s like any one’s idle thoughts really- probably pretty weird to anoyone who knew, but a small pleasure for me alone to enjoy….

Mistress X

Fifty Shades of Negative Stereotypes….

I am so sick of people thinking that just because I am involved in an alternative lifestyle, that I came from an abusive home. That Daddy must have diddled me or that I had a nun that was a little too enthusiastic with a ruler. With everyone and their mother ( and I do mean that) telling me I HAVE to read these books, “they’re soooo kinky!” I broke down and did. Kind of wish I didn’t. Not that it’s not a cute little story line (once you get past the gratuitous and frankly, totally unbelievable sex lines) but that once again, that our culture is stemmed from being abused horribly as a child. I have two loving and intelligent parents. Were they perfect? Hell no, but as an adult I know that they wanted nothing but the best for me and that’s what they provided. 50 Shades has good technical detail, but terrible implementation. The description of tools is fine, but if I hear the words “gasped” or “Oh my!” in common conversation again I may slap ANYONE out of pure annoyance. So what if your heroine is claiming she isn’t a “true sub”, or a virgin or what ever else. Why don’t you make her a barrista at StarBucks,  or how about an astronaut or even better still, let’s make her a champion of abused children. That would be more believable.

Besides the trite and overly visual imagery in the sex scenes in this series, I want to vomit that she presents this twisted view of BDSM. The sex scenes are ho-hum, everyone I know that told me how wet they got when they read it obviously doesn’t have the sex life I do. No, mine is not all chains and candle wax, in fact it’s none of that- it’s very vanilla and normal. Even on a slow night in my t-shirt and grannie panties, my bedroom is hotter then “he nibbles my thighs and twirled his tongue just so”… Really? THIS is what everyone is getting all “het up” about?

Why isn’t everyone getting all “het up” about the fact that this kid who was severely abused and obviously not treated (and his mom’s a doctor-yes it’s pretend I get that but I have a point- bear with me) now turns out to be a Dominant who needs to subjugate women who look like his crack head mom. I cannot even start with how wrong that imagery is. Anyone in the scene who even presents to a real dom with any HINT of emotional or mental distress would be turned away. No we are not licensed therapists but even a new Dominatrix  (if trained properly) would know if someone was not capable of handling it. Plus that he’s turned on to it by an older woman with obvious emotional issues? Again with the child abuse+emotional instability= BDSM tendencies?  Uh, no.

Most people I know are smart, healthy and otherwise “normal” human beings. They don’t watch child porn, they weren’t abused as kids, they don’t smear peanut butter on themselves and howl at the moon while channeling Adolf Hitler. They have college educations, beautiful children and faithful spouses. They don’t organize their poo by date and color. or have psychotic tendencies to hurt others because mommy was a crack whore. I think that if Ms. E.L. had spent a few hours observing how therapeutic these interactions  can be, or ,how damaging her words could be to the community at large, she may not have been so trite.

Just my thoughts. Not blaming her for all the negative views on our community, it’s bringing it mainstream as much as that gags me to say, and therefore a tad more acceptable, but if you’re going to write about it, do it realistically and don’t make us any more dark then we are.

Mistress Reese Dragostea

Philadelphia Dominatrix and Dangerous Vixen