Femdom Resource – Page 171 – The beauty of dominant women

Folsom Fair

Once again I missed the premier fetish event in San Francisco. It seems I’m always there just before or just after, but never on the right weekend. I’m heading down next weekend to SF, but unfortunately this year the event already happened a week or so ago. One of these days I’ll get my act together and attend.

I had to laugh at this brief TMZ article on it. Despite the fact that gay men in leather are the majority part of the scene, they still had to describe the images as ‘dominatrix pics’. Apparently if you want to sell a story you have to make it straight, and if you want to make it kinky that means a dominatrix. That’s not to say you can’t see all sorts of gender and kinky combinations at folsom, but the very images TMZ feature under the ‘dominatrix’ title are mostly hunky gay guys.

The above Folsom image is from here and I’d guess from the 2014 event.

Weirdly wired on wood

Axe over at UnspeakableAxe has an amusing post on subliminal signals and manufactured triggers. Given his partner is Mistress Sade and the triggers are all about having sex, then I don’t feel to bad for him. At least he’s not trying to kill the president when flashed the queen of diamonds.

I had my own odd encounter with subliminal signals and rewritten kinky wiring the other day. I walked into a sake store in one of the old buildings in downtown Seattle and after a few minutes browsing bottles realized I was strangely aroused. As much as I love great food and drink, I’ve never been excited by it in quite such a direct way. I don’t browse the Robert Parker site with my pants around my ankles, or feel the need to leave restaurants in an awkward doubled over posture. I love sake, but I don’t love it.

I had a few puzzled minutes before inspiration struck – it was the smell of the building. The shop was in an old warehouse type space with lots of old exposed wood. It’s exactly the kind of space that a lot of West coast play spaces occupy. They typically need large open spaces at a reasonable cost in an area without a lot of neighbors. That means industrial districts, old converted buildings and a rich aroma of aged wood. After years of hot kinky fun surrounded by the smell of old wooden industrial buildings I now have a mild sexual response to it. That wasn’t something I ever anticipated when I started playing.

The space in the image below looks like it might have a similar scent. Lots of wooden flooring and framing. This is from the Dudes in Distress tumblr.

Satan in high heels

Yesterday’s post about a yodeling dominatrix got me thing about the idea of a singing domme. That inevitably led me to the rabbit hole that is web searching, which ultimately landed me at the wonderfully named 60’s movie Satan in High Heels. From scanning the description it’s a fairly standard 60’s morality tale of a woman using her vixenish sexuality to lure unwary males into depravity. There’s no dominatrix involved anywhere as far as I can tell. Fortunately, for the sake of this blog post, there is a scene featuring Stacey Kane (presumably channeling the spirit of Satan) wearing leather, brandishing a crop and singing that the female of the species is more deadly than the male. It’s not great cinema, but it is the kind of random pop culture I love stumbling across.

The yodeling dominatrix

There are some words you never expect to see next to each other. For example, ‘joyful’ and ‘coroner’ or perhaps ‘Donald Trump’ and ‘modest’. Until today I would have put ‘yodeling’ and ‘dominatrix’ in that category, but thanks to a pointer from this article on Manuela Horn, I stand corrected. If you really want to blow your mind with unusual juxtapositions I give you the yodeling dominatrix singing AC/DC’s highway to hell.

If I’m going to be pedantic (and I usually am), then I might quibble about the dominatrix bit. She certainly has a fine line in fetishistic outfits, but I’m not sure I see any evidence of BDSM play or general sadism. Unless you count yodeling at people, which personally I would.

If you’re in Spokane in October then you can catch up with her at Oktoberfest. For those not in the Washington state area, I leave you with another image of unusual juxtapositions. If there’s someone out there who has been fantasizing about sitting in a paddling pool, wearing a panda suit, playing an accordion, while an attractive lady in an odd fetish outfit holds your leash, then today is your lucky day.

A hanger on

The image you see below was my alternative shot for the previous ‘ouch’ post. In many ways it is scarier than the one I ended up going with. Anyone who has tried to do rope suspension will know how surprisingly difficult it is. The average human body is pretty heavy and isn’t fitted with well designed attachment points. Just getting it safely into the air and balanced is tough, let alone ensuring it’s not twisted the wrong way or being painfully compressed by the rope. I can’t imagine what it’d be like to be suspended and then have someone hanging off you like this. He doesn’t even have that many support points, so he’s either very well balanced or that must be fairly painful.

The lady is sporting a strapon, but it’s tough to see how she could use it in this position. Maybe a crazy inverted suspended 69?

The image is of course from the Captive Male site.

Ouch

This article on sex related injuries and mishaps made me laugh. Alcohol, slippery substances and horny naked people can be a dangerous combination.

I’m a little surprised there are no kink related stories in there. You’d expect that given the potential risk of most BDSM activities that there would be a greater potential for mishap. One possible answer is that kinky people plan carefully and practice the risky parts. More likely that BDSM accidents are just less funny. Humor comes from surprise and unexpected juxtapositions. Describing how you hurt your boyfriend by hanging him from the ceiling and sticking a cattle prod up his ass is less a surprise and more of a ‘duh’. Bad sex can be funny, while bad BDSM can be a court action.

Talking of playing with cattle prods and suspension, here’s a lady doing exactly that. Given it was shot by the professionals at Divine Bitches, I’m sure it was a mishap free scene.

Fings I ave learnt

I believe it’s customary to reflect back on lessons learned when reaching a significant milestone. Given this blog just reached its 5 year birthday, it seems fitting to reflect on a few learning points I’ve taken away in that time.

If you use your phone to take session photographs, don’t give it to friends when they want to browse your holiday snaps. It’s possible they’ll side swipe right past that charming little restaurant you found and right onto a close-up of a cock with needles in it.
Never schedule a dermatology appointment the day after a scene. Cane and clamp marks take longer than 24 hours to fade.
It’s unwise to tell a domme to ‘avoid X and Y, but anything else is fair game’. The set of things that are not X or Y is really big and contains much that is painful.
Ninety five percent of dommes will immediately reach for a cane when they discover you have a long flight coming up in a few hours. They’ll also giggle about how painful it’ll be to sit down afterwards.
It’s possible to become blasé about discussing the exact type of anal play you enjoy with a unfamiliar lady you met just 10 minutes earlier. This remains true even if you’re a generally shy person who can get embarrassed while watching TV on your own.
Hot wax gets everywhere. You could be pressure washed down by a team of expert nurses just minutes after hot wax play, and still be finding wax in odd crevices days later.
When a domme asks ‘Have you tried activity X?’ do not take that opportunity to brag about what an intense and crazy amount of X you did in a previous session. That will be seen as a challenge that you can only lose.

Hopefully that’ll aid you all on your kinky journeys. In the meantime, like this young lady, I’m off to raise a glass to mine.

I believe this is by the NZ artist Archia!, and is fan art from the TV show Hannibal.

Half a decade of perverted sexual practices

This blog is 5 years old today. Happy birthday and hip-hip-hooray!

Since it started in 2010 there have been 1,626 posts (an average of 6.5 posts per week), and 3,703 comments. I don’t find the age particularly amazing, but the number of posts and comments does shock me. If I guestimate 30 minutes to write a post, and assume a 8 hour work day, that’s around 20 work weeks of nothing but blogging from 9-5. Or, doing the maths another way, at a glass of wine per post, that’s 271 bottles of Bordeaux.

I started it originally because the blog I wanted to read didn’t exist. I therefore thought I could write something to entertain myself and maybe others like me. I also thought I could impress lots of dominant women with my wit and wisdom, and thereby attract many offers of kinky shenanigans. I’d rate my success as therefore a ‘maybe’ and a ‘maybe not so much’.

I’ll probably write some more thoughts about the last 5 years in coming posts. In the meantime I’ll finish with the kind of imagery that makes me glad to keep doing it. This is by Zemekiss Photography and was shot at the 2015 Vancouver Fetish Weekend. I found it on the Happy BDSM tumblr (where you can see other shots from the sequence). Happy people doing kinky stuff is a wonderful thing.

Grumpy

I normally steer clear of the snarling and glaring BDSM shots and bias towards more happy positive scenes. I’m going to make an exception for the image below because, while nobody looks happy, it did make me laugh. They just look so damn grumpy about the whole situation. I haven’t tracked down a source for the image, so I’ve sadly got no context for it. I’ve long been a fan of the Happy BDSM tumblr. If anyone wants to start an Unhappy BDSM tumblr this would be a great opening post.

I’m into leather

A picture of me with my primary school class popped up on my faceboook feed the other day. It was kind of a shock. Social media and facebook has anesthetized people to old friends and old images suddenly reappearing, but this reached back further than I’m used to. There was only 7 of us in the class, and it was a tiny school in the middle of the English countryside. Me in college or high school was still a variation on me today, but this little boy seemed a world away.

It put me in mind of the classic scene in Annie Hall featuring Alvey’s classmates telling the camera where they are today. Unlike the girl at the end of that clip, while I like leather, I can’t say I’m into it. I am into cock and ball torture, bondage, corporal punishment and piercing. And mummification, sounding, electrical play and golden showers. Not to mention breathplay, zippering, trampling and anal play. I guess the equivalent Annie Hall scene with the younger me wouldn’t have been quite so pithy.

I’m not unhappy about how I ended up. I’d much rather be mature and complex than old, dry and boring. But I do envy the innocence and simplicity of the young me, even if some of the early signs of kinks to come were already in place.

Talking of cock and ball torture, here’s someone indulging in at least 50% of that particular kink.