The beauty of dominant women
I think most non-kinky people would consider water sports to be fairly ‘out there’ as far as sex acts go. Yet I’m looking at this winter sport, and thinking its making a little splash of hot urine look pretty good in comparison. Definitely more relaxing and comfortable than a faceful of icy snow.
I found this via a tweet. Despite digging around online, I’ve not managed to find a source or story behind it.
I’m safely back in Seattle, my short San Francisco trip at an end. Before I left I was lucky enough to be able to sneak in one final session. Following my usual algorithm, having played with someone I know well, I wanted to play with someone new to me. Via the Domme Sisterhood site I found Domina Akira and I was fortunate enough to find a suitable time before my flight left for us to meet.
Her style was definitely different to Yuki’s – more formal and interrogative – while still mixed in playful and teasing elements. There was some interesting arm rope bondage in a style I’d not experienced before and, while I’d never describe myself as a foot fetishist, I did discover a liking for having a domme’s bare foot smooshed into my face. I suspect that’s more a scent and objectification thing than a foot thing per se. Despite the fact that I’m not a fan of more formally structured scenes, I think the session actually worked out really well. The fact she laughed a lot as she hit me was certainly a big plus!
Domina Akira also demonstrated the instinctive reactions I’ve come to recognize in all great dommes. Namely, immediately poking and slapping all the tender places I’d acquired in earlier sessions and beating my ass prior to getting on a plane (point 4 from here). I think she might have been disappointed that I only had a 2 hour flight back to Seattle rather than a 10 hour one back to England.
This image is taken from Domina Akira’s image gallery. If you’re in the Bay area and want to schedule a session, her contact page is here. She also has tour dates posted for the next few months via twitter.
If she was a golfer, she’d know that the maximum permissible height for a golf tee is 4 inches. Also I’m sure her coach would have something to say about that badly bent left elbow.
The model here is Estella Warren.
I had a weird random fantasy today in the middle of a session. I was playing once again with the fabulous Domina Yuki and CBT was on the menu. Normally that’d be pretty much the only thing I’d be able to focus on. Having the head of my cock smacked with the handle of a whip will tend to get my attention like that. Yet in the middle of all this, I suddenly pictured myself as one of the hosts (robots) from HBO’s Westworld. I was brought to life for one of the guests to enjoy torturing and when it was over I’d be wiped and switched off, awaiting the next guest to arrive with a sadistic hankering.
In many ways it’s a standard objectification type scenario – the submissive treated as a plaything by an all powerful dominant. The interesting part to me was the idea of being deactivated when the pain ended. So the pain was life. As long as the pain continued, then so did I. There was only torture or a mindless blank eternity.
I’m not really sure what triggered this line of thought. Probably it was because I’m just rewatching the first season of Westworld (prior to starting the new season) and that Domina Yuki had piano music playing in the background to our scene. If you’ve not seen the show – and I highly recommend watching it – the soundtrack includes a lot of beautiful piano pieces, including some fun riffs on popular music tracks. It’s also possible I had this scene with Ms Hale lurking in my subconscious, although filtered through my own peculiar sexuality.
Talking of Westworld gives me an excuse to feature a shot of one of its stars – the amazing Thandie Newton. This fetishistic getup is from her role in the Chronicles of Riddick.
I got to play with a zentai suit today with Domina Yuki. This was actually a first for me and it was an interesting new experience. A lot of sensory deprivation accessories are very focused and very binary. Things like hoods, blindfolds and earplugs target specific senses and are all or nothing. The zentai suit was all encompassing, but very incremental. Sight, touch, hearing and breathing were all affected, but only fractionally. That in turn made it less stressful to handle, even when combined with a bondage bag and some heavy nipple and cock torture.
I can’t say I discovered a new fetish that I didn’t know I had. Frankly, wearing the zentai suit alone made me feel like I was cosplaying Spiderman. Which is fun but not my kink. However, I did like it as an option for a sensory deprivation scene. My claustrophobia can sometimes make those tough to pull off and a zentai suit is a nice way to gradually work into that zone, particularly when combined with layers of bondage.
Talking of spiderman – here’s a nice shot by Carlos Adama of him under the heel of black cat. While my zentai suit might have put me in mind of spiderman, I don’t think his outfit has cut outs for the cock, balls and nipples like mine had. That’d be a very different kind of superhero.
Fetishism and repression always seem to go together. The more forbidden or subversive something is, the greater the thrill.
Take for example this Victorian illustration (found via the Whores of Yore twitter) of what I assume is a device for privacy when fitting shoes. I guess it’s supposed to separate the lady from the process of measuring and fitting the shoe, and hence make it a more mechanical and impersonal act. In actual fact it’s a foot fetishists dream. The gentleman involved is even sporting a lascivious grin.
It looks like the top of the device has some sort of crank system and the panel has a split across the middle. So does it separate and then close around her foot once it’s in the hole? If so, it’s even kinkier than it looks at first glance. It’s device bondage crossed with foot fetishism.
I’m on vacation again. This time down in San Francisco. That means an opportunity to meet up again with some old domme friends and hopefully make some new ones. Much kinky fun should be forthcoming.
One thing I want to try and start to do on this trip is mentally re-focus my approach in sessions. I don’t want experience to turn into cockiness. My reaction to play over the years has constantly evolved, with responses that might be summarized as…
I need to make sure I stick with (3) and don’t slip into (4). Learning something is useless unless it’s applied, and that application requires focus and awareness. I think I’ve sometimes assumed that past experience automatically translates into future success just because the relevant information is in my brain somewhere. That’s a bit like a musician turning up a concert and not bothering to play because he knows the songs. I need to be more active about applying, reassessing and building on what I’ve already learnt.
Serious thoughts aside, the fact I was on an airplane today, gives me an excuse to feature this shot of Mistress Iris. This was part of a recent series she did with a flight attendant theme.
Here’s a final vintage pulp novel cover to complete my trio of posts featuring them. I’m definitely not a religious man, but even an atheist like myself can see this book clearly raises some challenging theological issues.
Firstly, there’s the whole Satan as a gay woman thing. Is that actually a progressive view? As John Oliver might say – #satanism #feminism. And then there’s the past tense aspect of the title. Is Satan now dead? Or still a woman but no longer gay? Or maybe trans? She’s definitely looking pretty masculine in the background of the cover drawing. For all the sexual and gender confusion, at least Satan is maintaining the tradition of villains with an evil goatee. It’s important to have standards.
Regular readers will know that I occasionally feature a post on women who aren’t necessarily dominant in the femdom sense (as far as I know), but who perform impressive feats and set an example in their field. Today’s example of such a post is a twofer, featuring a pair or runners.
Firstly, there’s this feelgood story of Susan Sellers, who just finished second in the Boston Marathon. It was only her second marathon, and she was a complete unknown, with no sponsors or agents. After a promising junior career, she picked up a major injury, causing her to quit running and take up a nursing job. Now, at age 26, she’s found quite a way to make a comeback with a second place in Boston.
That story put me in mind of Kathrine Switzer, the first woman to officially run the Boston Marathon in 1967. It seems incredible now, but women weren’t allowed to enter the race because organizers thought women were too ‘fragile’ to handle it. So she entered under the gender neutral name of K. V. Switzer and then relied on her boyfriend and her coach to block officials who tried to physically pull her out the race. Impressively, aged 70, she came back to run it again last year.
It wasn’t until 1972 that women were officially allowed to enter the race. The Boston Athletics Association director said of the 20 year old Switzer – “If that girl were my daughter, I would spank her.” I can only guess his bookshelves were filled with novels like the one below, and he considered himself in the front line of the fight against those evil feminists.
This book came out in 1971, and while the cover suggests it might fall into the ‘so bad it’s good’ category, this review suggests otherwise.
There are many things to like about this awesome vintage femdom magazine cover. My favorite is probably the line about “Here are sex witches; sex bitches; dominas; slaves of Satan.” Is it just me or is one of those things slightly out of place? It’s like opening a true crime magazine with “Here are serial killers, psychopaths, jaywalkers, murders…” Could they not think of four insanely over the top labels to use? How about freaky femdoms? The devils devious dominants? Lethal ladies of love? Sex crazed harlots from hell? If you’re going for trashy, you might as well go all out.
