Sunday, March 27, 2011
Yesterday was something of a milestone. Her Majesty and I had brunch with B and SB. We had a really wonderful time.
SB had invited us to get together as a couple with them some time ago but I declined. Her Majesty is extremely private about our D/s relationship. Apart from family and close friends knowing that she “wears the pants” in our relationship she does not share anything about our private life with the outside world. I have tried to get her to attend a few scene functions but she has always declined. When appropriate she has given me permission to attend without her. SB and I did end up having lunch together and shared a wonderful conversation described in the post;“Lunch With Subbie X.”
I have primarily kept up with B and SB through reading their blog. I have become quite fond of them. They are genuine, sincere, down to earth, regular folk who just happen to be kinky and very much in love. Thus when SB repeated his invitation that we all get together I decided to gently suggest the idea to Her Majesty. Much to my delight she said yes.
On the way to the restaurant Her Majesty confessed she was feeling a little unsure about discussing our kinky relationship with people she had never met before. I replied that kink would be one topic among many and reassured her that it would be no big deal. I made the decision not to second guess or try to control the situation in any way. Whatever happened was going to happen. It was something of a leap into the unknown for both of us.
I chose a big private table in the corner of the restaurant where we could talk without feeling self conscious. When they arrived SB and I recognized each other immediately. I need not have worried. Within the first few minutes the conversation was off and running. All doubts were set aside and I could tell Her Majesty was very much at ease. If anyone was frustrated it was the waiter who kept returning to try and take our order. We were too busy getting acquainted to bother looking at the menu.
Her Majesty and B hit if off extremely well which pleased me no end. We are around the same age as they are and share many of the same interests and life experiences. We spoke of marriage, divorce, relationships, raising kids, caring for aging parents, geology, scuba diving and exotic tropical vacations. Kink was tentatively explored at first and delved into with gusto towards the end of the meal. There was a lot of laughter and bonding going on around the table.
Her Majesty felt so comfortable and relaxed that she opened up about our kinky relationship without the slightest hesitation. I was extremely proud of her and fell in love with her all over again. B shared the story of whipping SB in the hayloft with candid, easy humor. We were enthralled. SB and I looked at each other grinning from ear to ear as the ladies discussed how much they enjoy being served.
“You should both come up to the farm sometime”, B suggested to Her Majesty. “These two can cook dinner and we can just relax and let them serve us!”
“That sounds great!” replied Her Majesty laughing and grinning with obvious pleasure.
Illustrations by Sardax
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Etienne posted a link to this article in The Scene. It's by Mark Levant and origianlly appeared in the March 23, 2011 issue of Pluck Magazine. I hope you enjoy it. I know I did! :-)
Three months ago, I thought I completely understood women. And why wouldn't I? Twenty-five years is enough time to understand three billion people. I grew up in the snug cove of the Bay Area, went to a college named after a woman, and got real good at turning my feelings into words. Eventually I got so good at talking about feelings that I started doing plays, so I could talk about feelings I didn't even have.
So why is it that, after decades of sympathizing with women, I feel like I'm just starting to empathize? It's pretty simple. I got fucked. In a good way.
As a lover, I pride myself on being a nice guy, a boy scout in an army of mere boyfriends. Just look at my badges! Monogamy sits proudly at the top of my sash, and under that are Communication, Promise Keeping, and Spontaneous Flowers.
Like all good scouts, my passion for good citizenship is rivaled only by my thirst for exploration. So I found myself proposing to my (amazing) girlfriend of two (amazing) years that we try a little butt sex. The way I explained it, it was just another way to appreciate her and build trust. (Which is true, it just looks really creepy on paper.) She was hesitant, so I doubled down and put my own ass on the line. If she could take it, so could I.
After a romantic evening of Futurama, Wine, and a True Grit bootleg, she deflowered me. And I'll never be the same again. I'm not going to get into any gory details, that's what Twitter is for.
After it happened, I felt the same exciting relief I imagine a girl feels after losing her virginity on prom night. I never realized the incredible amount of bravery it takes to let someone inside you. It's asking someone to stab you in the back, but lovingly. Masculine courage is throwing yourself headfirst into danger, like jumping out of a plane, but feminine courage is letting danger throw itself headfirst into YOU. It's even more badass. I look at women like soldiers now, and older women as grizzled retired Generals that I wholeheartedly salute.
I also never realized how instantly bonding sex can be on the receiving end. I already felt close to her before we began our little experiment, but now I feel like she's tattooed under my skin. Even though she was staying the night, I almost begged her to call me the next day.
So if your boyfriend doesn't understand you, the next time he tries to give it to you, see how well he takes it. After years of formal and informal Women's Studies courses, I feel like I'm just getting to know the opposite sex in a way I never could before.
God I hope I'm not pregnant.
Max Levant is a perspiring comedian and teacher living in Chicago. He writes sketches for the celebrated group Side Hustle. Illustrations by Kami Tora.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
I have been reading a book my friend Etienne recommended called “Destructive Emotions: How Can We Overcome Them?” Etienne is a good guy and a sub who I admire. He has extensive experience in the pro scene and has struggled with cancer for the past few years. Etienne recommended "Destructive Emotions" to me in response to my blog post entitled “Rabid Subbie Angst.”
“Destructive Emotions” is not the typical self help book one is used to seeing atop the bestseller list. The author Daniel Goleman presents dialogues between the Dalai Lama and a small group of eminent psychologists, neuroscientists, and philosophers. Together they probe challenging questions about destructive emotions; what they mean, where they come from and how they can be effectively dealt with in the course of our daily lives.
As I mentioned in a previous post I have been practicing meditation on a daily basis lately. The book is helping me understand why it is important to meditate and what I can hope to gain from it. The Dalai Lama observes that people who meditate regularly have much greater control over their mental and emotional state. Brain scans of subjects who practice advanced meditation reveal areas of the brain that are highly developed. Some disciples are able to control involuntary facial expressions brought about by powerful emotions that others are not even aware of.
Meditation is making a difference in how I relate to myself and the world around me. I can remain calm when others get upset. I am less inclined to let another person’s words or actions ruin my day. I don’t project my emotions onto other people and assign blame where it doesn’t belong. I am taking responsibility for my own mental state. An old adage states; “happiness is an inside job.” I am learning to recognize emotions as they come up. I don’t let them take me over with the force of a demonic possession. I think they call that maintaining a healthy emotional balance.
It used to throw me into a tail spin when Her Majesty was in a bad mood; especially when she became irritable with me. This morning she grumbled at me and left without saying goodbye. She has been feeling sick and out of sorts lately. My Queen can be extremely moody sometimes. This morning I didn’t take it personally. I recognized the dark cloud as belonging to her and didn’t let it rain on my parade. I just let it slide.
I am not saying I have this thing licked yet but I think I am making significant progress. When I am finished reading “Destructive Emotions” I am going to lend the book to Her Majesty.
Images: "Anger" by Kevin Stilley, "Jealousy" lithograph By Edvard Munch, "Dark Sadness" photo by Lonely Pierot
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
“The Elegant Spanking” appears on the same DVD as “The Black Glove” and is also directed and produced by Maria Beatty and Rosemary Delain. It is shot entirely in black and white and pays homage to 1920s cinema with text boxes displaying the dialogue between the characters. The only soundtrack is an ambient piece for harp, cello, viola and percussion composed by John Zorn.
Mistress (Rosemary Delain) reclines on a settee dressed in nothing but a white lace teddy, black pumps and a long strand of pearls which she runs lasciviously between her legs. Maid Kitty (Maria Beatty) stands before a vase of long stemmed roses smelling them and staring longingly at her Mistress. A text box on the screen reveals her inner most thoughts; “Is she even thinking about me? I doubt it!” With a single gesture Mistress summons Kitty to kneel before her.
Kitty places a ceramic bowl beneath her Mistress who pisses into it. Kitty cups her hands and catches the golden nectar, raising it to her lips. When Mistress has finished Kitty fetches her a cup of tea. Mistress swirls her finger around and around inside the tea cup. “She is sopping wet before I even touch her!” a dialogue box tells us. Maid Kitty lies beneath Mistress who continues drinking tea while pissing copiously into her maid's wide open mouth.
Her thirst sated, Mistress extends her leather pumps to be worshipped allowing Kitty to suck greedily on the metallic stiletto heels. She kicks off her shoes and Kitty passionately worships her bare feet. Kitty slides a pair of black Cuban heeled stockings up Mistress’s legs and fastens the stays of a corset over her slender body. She places a pair of white stiletto pumps on Mistress’s feet, bends down to kiss them and smears the white leather with bright red lipstick. “You will pay dearly for that Miss Kitty!” Mistress exclaims.
Mistress drags Kitty over her lap for a long, sensual over the knee spanking. Kitty grinds lasciviously against Mistress’s leg, a rapturous look on her face. Her punishment continues as she is bent over a table, strapped with a belt and birched with a long stemmed rose. When her punishment is over Kitty is brought to the pinnacle of ecstasy with Mistress’s nylon covered toes while Mistress pleasures herself with her fingers. When the orgy of masturbation is over Mistress finishes dressing, pulling on a black dress, doffing a black hat and sliding on a pair of shoulder length black gloves. Kitty clings to Mistress’s feet and legs but she is coldly pushed aside. Mistress leaves Kitty lying on the floor kissing the long strand of pearls, lost in her sepia toned fantasies.
“The Elegant Spanking” is a delightfully sensual piece of lesbian BDSM erotica. It is impossible not to be sucked into the smoldering chemistry between Maria Beatty and Rosemary Delain. If these women are not lovers in real life we certainly believe they are. Both “The Black Glove” and “The Elegant Spanking” straddle the threshold between porn and art without sacrificing the best parts of either. The DVD featuring both films is highly recommended by yours truly, though you may find it difficult to remain chaste for your Mistress while watching... ;-)
Monday, March 21, 2011
"The Black Glove" is a short, exquisitely sensual film, written and directed by Maria Beatty and Rosemary Delain. In the tradition of classic Film Noir, "The Black Glove" tantalizes us with startling contrasts between light and shadow. The sound track by John Zorn is composed of ambient sounds; wind howling, rain falling, occasional sighs and groans.
The first scene opens on a dirty window in the center of a black screen. Grey sunlight vainly tries to penetrate the glass and dispel the shadows. Mistress Morgana (Rosemary Delain) enters dressed in an exquisitely tailored man’s suit. She casts an imposing silhouette standing in front of the window. The camera slides down her body lingering on her black leather pumps. Her stiletto heels echo down the corridor as she walks out of frame.
A male slave has been transformed into a woman dressed in formal attire. He is preparing Maria Beatty for a session with his Mistress. Maria lies on the bed, dressed in sheer black stockings, a black bra and panties. The slave caresses her lovingly with his opera length black velvet gloves as he binds her wrists and ankles. He sticks his velvet clad fingers into her mouth and she sucks on them greedily. Once she is bound and helpless he takes the opportunity to tease her with a variety of toys; a silver vibrator, a rattan cane, a Wattenberg wheel. We are treated to evocative shots of Maria’s haunting eyes, full sensual lips and long lascivious tongue. We can feel her hunger oozing from the screen. She wants this.
Mistress Morgana changes out of her business suit into a gleaming black leather corset, black thigh high stiletto boots and shoulder length black latex gloves. She uses an evil looking silver knife to trace lines over Maria’s flesh, then cuts her bonds, rolling her onto her back. Maria hungrily sucks Morgana’s latex clad fingers and strains her neck to deep throat her stiletto heels.
A black latex mask is placed over Maria’s head. Morgana uses the Wattenberg wheel on her willing victim, rolling it slowly up Maria's body, lingering on her hard nipples and exploring her greedy tongue. She uses evil looking medical clamps to stretch Maria’s nipples to their limit, twisting them cruelly until Maria moans deliriously. Morgana opens Maria’s legs and penetrates her, forcing her to lick the juices from her fingertips. Maria stares at us mournfully through the mask. She throws back her head and cries out as medical clamps are attached to the lips of her vulnerable pussy and she is stretched wide open.
Morgana lights the wick of a candle shaped like a big black cock. She holds it between Maria’s legs allowing drop after drop of molten wax to drip onto her exposed sex. An inflatable gag is placed in Maria’s mouth and pumped up. She is left to savor her predicament still in bondage, clamps still attached, wax cooling and hardening between her legs.
I highly recommend "The Black Glove" for connoisseurs of BDSM and FemDom erotica.The DVD ships with a companion film called “The Elegant Spanking” which I plan to review shortly. Stay tuned! ;-)
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Her Majesty inadvertently picked the featured photo for today's blog post. She was browsing through the bridal gallery section of a site called artkarat.com when she chanced upon this photo of a Hindu bride's feet being bathed in milk for her wedding ceremony.
Her Majesty is of Hindu descent. In the Hindu culture bowing at the feet of a parent, a spouse, a teacher or a guru is a sign of deep love and respect. In the Hindu tradition it is usually the wife who bows at the feet of her husband. In our relationship we have an interesting twist on that custom which Her Majesty quite enjoys; I bow at her feet not vice versa. Her Majesty tells me that when she was a little girl she used to make her brothers kiss her feet before she would do her homework. As her submissive husband I have taken over the foot kissing duties with great reverence and enthusiasm! :-)
Her Majesty tells me it makes her feel deeply loved when I worship her feet. Hardly a day passes without me kneeling before her and passionately kissing them. It is a lovely ritual that embodies the heart and soul of our D/s relationship; a simple act that carries with it great significance and profoundly romantic associations.
The nightly foot massage is a regular ritual in our house. If I do a good job and it is time for my scheduled orgasm Her Majesty allows me to kneel before her and cum on her feet while she holds my head in her lap and tenderly strokes me hair. Occasionally she will spice up the ritual with the addition of a pair of Japanese clover nipple clamps. Yowza!
Top Image courtesy of Artkarat.com
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
I found these pictures of Her Majesty's new Steve Madden "Kattrina" pumps online and wanted to share them with you. Not sure if they are Martian shoes but they certainly are out of this world! The Stilettos are over five inches high. The photograph proves a human can walk in them, though it could always be Photoshopped I guess. I love the red but Her Majesty's pair are black.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Objectively, I don’t believe women are superior to men any more than I believe one race is superior to another. I believe all human beings are created equal. That said, I have been blessed/cursed with a psycho-sexual quirk; the urge to submit to a dominant woman. That doesn’t mean I consider myself an inferior being who should be treated like a doormat by the opposite sex. I am a proud submissive who holds his head up high. I belong to one very special woman; Her Majesty. I treat all other women with courtesy and respect and expect to be treated the same way in return.
I strongly believe that people in the D/s community should be courteous and respectful to each other. Though I have posted on some rough bulletin boards, my experience in the blogosphere has been overwhelmingly positive. If you want to leave a comment here please be respectful and courteous. We don't have to agree. The difference between a personal attack and a friendly debate should be evident to anyone. I promise to extend the same courtesy to you that you do to me. The overwhelming majority of posters have left comments that are enlightening, insightful and supportive. You have my sincere thanks for that. For the other 1% comment moderation is extremely effective.
Illustration by Sardax
Monday, March 14, 2011
So much of this stuff is about one's point of view. If I see the cup as being half full, leave my heart open and serve Her Majesty from a place of love and devotion things usually fall into place. If I see the cup as being half empty and focus on my needs being met things start falling apart. Amazing how that happens. You would think I would know that by now but emotional intelligence isn't always rational. You have to be in the right place to receive it which is sometimes easier said than done.
Illustration by Sardax
Sunday, March 13, 2011
I went upstairs and lay down next to my love. She put her hand on my arm. Her touch sent waves of tenderness coursing through my central nervous system. We talked for awhile. She started reminiscing about some delicious bread pudding we had enjoyed at a neighborhood restaurant. My thoughts went from focusing on myself to serving my Queen. I called up the restaurant and asked them to prepare two orders of bread pudding to go. Her Majesty’s face lit up. She was pleased that her wishes had been answered so quickly and easily. Sometimes it’s good to have a slave! ;-)
Later that evening she modeled her new high heeled pumps for me, allowing me to smell the delicious new leather and polish them with my tongue. “These look like Martian shoes”, she said as I sucked on the skyscraper stiletto heels. She used the Eros Tek, slowly increasing the current as she rested her feet on me in their shiny new stiletto pumps. I licked the sides, the bottoms and sucked on the heels as she turned up the juice. At some point she kicked off one of the shoes and pressed her toes over my mouth and lips. That intimate physical act of dominance pushed me into the zone. The delightful tingling in my cock and balls started to push me over the edge.
The first squirt of come shot onto my chest without warning. The second took a long time. I passionately sucked on Her Majesty’s toes lost in my submission to her. My orgasm was totally controlled by my beloved Queen. She milked it from me slowly and deliciously.
Illustration by Sardax
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
This week I purchased Her Majesty a pair of killer black leather stiletto pumps on the Internet. I was very excited about their imminent arrival. These are the type of shoes I stare at with furtive longing when I seem them in a shoe store window. I knew they would be strictly for play. Her Majesty would never wear them in public. She chided me about spending the money but I got them for more than half off so it wasn’t too bad.
Steve Madden has my e-mail address now. They are bombarding me with advertisements for sexy feminine foot wear. If Her Majesty liked high heeled shoes as much as I do she would be Imelda Marcos by now. I can resist anything but direct marketing.
I have confessed before that I am an ardent boot fetishist but I enjoy sleek stiletto pumps every bit as much. They are so elegant, so feminine and so divinely sexy. Her Majesty often jokes that I should have made my career selling ladies shoes. She might just have a point there.
After 2 failed UPS delivery attempts the precious cargo finally arrived. I had to have them delivered to my office. When I got them home and opened the box the reality hit home. Her Majesty would never be able to stand, let alone walk in the impossibly high 5 1/2 inch stilettos. Most humans would be hard pressed to don such footwear.
"Oh my God that's ridiculous!" she said, when she finally saw the shoes.
"Should I change them for the patent leather pair with the slightly lower heel and the slightly higher platform?", I asked somewhat hopelessly.
"No it won't make any difference", she replied. To her credit she did let me slip one of the pumps on to her foot. She even stood in it for a moment and teetered precariously.
"Sorry. I can't wear these", she said removing the shoe.
"Could you wear them sitting down?" I responded, blurting out my last desperate hope.
"Maybe", she replied.
I feel somewhat foolish for buying the shoes. What was I thinking? I knew Her Majesty would never be able to walk in them. I was chasing a fetishist's dream too perfect to be translated into reality. At least I got a little thrill from making the purchase. Perhaps she will be able to wear them sitting down...
Pumps by Steve Madden.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
I have discovered that maintaining a positive attitude is probably the single most important factor in living a happy and well adjusted life. Getting there requires some self discipline though. Combining regular mediation and swimming has made a big difference in my overall state of mind lately.
Every morning I count 100 breaths evenly and slowly while visualizing a candle flame in the middle of my forehead. Hindus call that meditating on your third eye. Her Majesty comes from a Hindu family so I have the benefit of her wisdom to help me on my journey. The chatter of my mind is incessant. Thoughts come into my head; I examine them dispassionately and allow them to dissipate without becoming attached to them. Then I return to the candle flame. I have found that the benefits of regular meditation increase exponentially with practice. Even 15 or 20 minutes a day can make a big difference.
Swimming has also been extremely helpful. Swimming relaxes me and fills me with a general sense of well being. My overall outlook on life becomes more laid back after a few laps in the pool and my attitude seems to improve dramatically. I don’t sweat the small stuff quite so much and I am deliciously tired by the end of day.
I have also been spending less time on the Internet. The Internet gobbles up my brain, fractures my concentration and short circuits my attention span. With my morning routine set in stone I simply don’t have time to get on my laptop as often as I used to. At night I prefer to relax with my family and serve Her Majesty in the manner to which she has become accustomed.
My relationship with Her Majesty continues to evolve in a service oriented direction. She is turning me into her personal masseuse. Last weekend she requested I give her a full body massage before our customary queening ritual. She provided exact instructions throughout which I obeyed to the letter. Her Majesty is a tough but extremely appreciative customer once you know how to massage her correctly. I worked on her for a long time until she was blissed out and thoroughly relaxed.
Then she allowed me to go down on her until I was ordered to stop. I could tell she greatly enjoyed my ministrations which increased my enthusiasm and filled my heart with joy. It was a long, slow, tender interlude in the department of deliciousness. I truly felt like her slave. Finally she queened me, allowing me to serve as her throne and thoroughly worship her while she tenderly guided me to an explosive orgasm.
I hope for many more enchanting interludes of oral servitude along the road to enlightenment.