Category Archives: society

We Shall See…

Another casual, light-hearted update for all you lovelies…

On top of an exceedingly demanding professional life, I am working on a significantly long paper  for a class.  I was *cough, cough* “fortunate” to have an uber-feminist professor in this class, which has resulted in some interesting debates between she and I, as well as some of my other classmates.  I am not anti-feminist, per se, in the sense that I believe equal treatment for equal work.  However, I do believe that men are significantly misrepresented within our present society by a virtual pendulum swing toward feminism in the name of emasculating men.  Ultimately, I believe heavily in evolutionary psychology and cognitive development as it applies to biology.  I believe men are men and women are women for reasons primarily dictated by biology; I believe hormones, physiology, and thus, brain development coincide with our responses toward the environment.  I do believe culture plays a heavy influence as well, akin to adding standards of performance to a basic blank slate:  As if taking a large boulder and carving it into a beautiful sculpture; the beautiful sculpture may represent something upon it’s surface, but at it’s core the subject is simply rock.  Culture carves.

Anyway, my professor has assigned readings for this particular class that I find are bias against men.  If I were a man in this class, I would feel as though I was a pig on a spit, rotating and roasting before a crowd of chanting, spear wielding women.  They would extend their fists vehemently into the air, exposing the hairy pits of rebellion.  They would dance around the rotisserie man with dangling breasts of stretched tissue and “beaver bump” one another in the name of “fem-araderie”.  Roast that man for all his oppression – Men and their penises are to blame for all our problems in the world….

I cannot stand this course.  Such potential in the material to be squandered away by personal bias.  Anyway, I digress…

After numerous debates, I have decided to compose my final paper on cultural dynamics as it effects aspects of BDSM culture and alternative relationships.  Ah, yes.  Imagine the joy I will have once I receive a poor grade in this course due to the fact that I will discuss being a female sub to my male Dominant.  My professor is notorious for grading according to personal opinion and perspective.  Undoubtedly, my close-minded professor will know little about the lifestyle, as she will see it as another way culture oppresses women.  To expose that fallacy, I plan to discuss the role of dominance and submission, as it pertains to the individual and not the gender of the person.  Ultimately, I plan to show the BDSM culture as a place where gender is an illusion; a place where a person is accepted as an “individual” and not as culture would define him/her or his/her chromosomal make-up.  She likely has read Fifty Shades of Grey and was repulsed by that pathetic depiction of the community – even though she likely masturbated to images of being dominated by a man.  Typical.  I’m going to blow the top off of this bitch, and I am looking forward to it.

Again, I can’t wait to write a substantial piece for pleasure, for a change.  Presently, my language has been reduced to legalities and formalities, and I am feeling creatively handicapped.

I also was nominated for the “Bad Girl Blogger Award” from the lovely Whispering Girl, which has brought me great joy!  I am incredibly flattered.  Thank you for such lovely words of recognition.  I am chomping at the bit to assume my more creative pursuits, I just have to get through the next week or two.


Random Reflection

I realized today that my commitment to being submissive to my delicious D/Husband holds more weight than my commitment to being “married”.  Admittedly, I have not been a fan of marriage and see very little point in it.  The only marriage I have ever given a shit about is the one I currently share with my D/Husband; before that, I left a slew of groveling men in my wake.  If I tell you I’m in love with someone else, you ask me to marry you anyway, and I end up leaving you because I am ultimately unhappy…Well, you had it coming as far as I’m concerned.  If I had a dollar for every time a man said, “I thought you would change…” I wouldn’t be sitting here pretending to work at a job that I currently dislike with “Holy Moley (see post ‘Fuck You’)” sitting across from me accompanied by her Disney character figurines.

“He didn’t change me; with his chains, he freed me”

My previous divorces were no different than childhood breakups, just a little more financially complicated.  I believe our society has turned marriage into a joke.  Marriage is a drug laced with false sense of security; people smoke it up and conjure delusions of a monogamous “forever”, escaping into a naïve alternate nirvana, and meanwhile paying no attention to their present reality.  In the real world, the man has not had a blowjob in over a month because she’s completely preoccupied with asserting her feminism and watching reality t.v shows.  He’s miserable, but she feel secure with her “Prince Charming” in her delusional matrimonial haze; because he said “I do”, and therefore, relinquishing his soul and sexual liberation – FOREVER.  I can hear them whining in my head now, “But…He promised me forever…”

Stop with this nonsense. 

My commitment of submission to my D/Husband, however:  Solidified beyond anything that I have ever experienced nor been capable of.  I have never been so certain of my role, my place in a partnership, or more present in my daily life than while in service to Him.  There is a distinctive difference between my choice to submit to Him and aligning with societal norms by getting married.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that my marriage means nothing to me – that’s not the case.  I’m simply stating that it was shocking how easily and emphatically I identify with my rules and regulations as my D/Husband’s sub, and rebelled against anything associated with marital “rules and regulations”.

The ring did not rein me in; but, His reign does.


Animal in Us

 Lion-Love-lions-12265175-858-740

Are we really so evolved?  A question I ask myself frequently as it applies directly to my sex life.

We claim to be so evolved.  In fact, some people associate a sense of pride with being highly evolved, snubbing their noses at anything that resembles simplicity or being reduced to our archaic past.  We attach social rules to instinctual drives and call ourselves civilized for not acting upon those drives.  For example, people feared sexual liberation and their own lack of control over their drives; therefore, the people found it necessary to impose religious restrictions upon sexuality.  But, did we really evolve past the need for mate selection on an instinctual level, or did we simply comply with the established social rules for how to conduct ourselves for assimilation?

And here lies my greatest question:  What’s with the stigma placed on the BDSM community?  The community fuels on a particular application of two basic concepts: Dominance and submission.  Dominance and submission is a basic primal concept: The strongest survive, survival of the fittest, and the desire to find the most suitable mate.  Animals have operated on this basic principle as the essential building block for the survival of their species.  Humans used to operate under these basic codes in ancient civilizations.  I believe the people in this sexual community are simply on a quest to restore natural selection, on the most basic of levels, sexual expression.

In our present society, we are consciously weeding out natural selection.  The natural competitive drives within our young boys are being discouraged on the basis of equality.  Plastic surgery can make those less desirable (with regard to natural selection) suddenly find a place amongst the genetically superior for mate selection.  We have conditioned our society to level the playing fields on the basis of evolutionary strength; we place the strong on a diminished level and the weak at an elevated level, essentially meeting somewhere in the middle.  Although I believe this concept is fair, I feel it has done very little to improve the condition of society as a whole.  I, quite honestly, long for a life where social order is restored.  I long to exist in a place where hierarchy social structure consists with the strongest, most “fit” leadership at the top and the weaker individuals operating a place below.  Amongst the lower levels there lies a hierarchy of power, creating many levels of organized dominance and submission.  The essential problem with this is there will be people who always question and oppose authority.  A society like this would, regrettably, remove the choice of submission for individuals.  The lack of choice promotes passive aggressive overthrow.  The choice to be submissive to a Dominant is one that makes the entire situation flow beautifully.  Of course, negative situations can arise with the intoxication of power, but that is not the point of this post.

Submission had nothing to do with race, sex or gender.  Submission was the relinquishment of power in the presence of a more dominant individual.  Unfortunately, submission was not always a choice; rather, people understood that their need for survival accompanied the servitude of a powerful individual.  In the world of BDSM, submission is a choice.  Submission is a choice that is respected by the Dominant, because the Dominant understands that a submissive’s obedience is a gift.  I know I struggled for a long time to find a man who could handle me.  I could not be tamed, could not be reined in, and could not be reasoned with.  A man would have had to be incredibly dominant, strong, stoic, confident, steady, and respectful to be able to even begin to have my submission.  My point is, I would have searched and searched until I found the most “alpha” dominant man I could to give my submission to.  Had I been with a weaker man, and he was challenged by a more aggressive and dominant man for my affection – I would have given my affection to that more dominant man.  That’s about as animal as natural selection gets, and it’s happening every day amongst us all.  It’s happening regardless of whatever your sexual preference is.  Its happening despite what your religion is, whether you admit it to yourself or not, and whether you ever truly put action to your thoughts.  It’s happening because we are all animals at our evolutionary core.  We will always want what we consider to be the “best” mate for us.  We will all assume our roles of dominance and submission within our relationships to varying degrees, and I believe that to be incredibly healthy.

In my opinion, my relationship with my Dom is classic, perhaps archaic, as it aligns us with that natural essence of who we are as people.  Who we are, together, as evolved animals.  We align beautifully in our assigned roles, because it ignites something innate in us both:  My deepest desire to serve, and be at the mercy of, the most worthy mate possible; and his desire to protect, control, claim and reinforce his territory though his primal (animal) power.  I honestly feel that, if practiced from a place of emotional clarity and psychological health, BDSM is one of the most beautiful representations of returning to our roots.  It’s one of the most beautiful expressions of releasing the veil of social oppression, turning our backs against modern relationships, and turning toward something more basic.

In our basic states of Dominance and submission, we are returned to the animal.  I will use my favorite animal as an example:  The aggression expressed between two male lions in the quest to assert territory over the female lionesses is akin to something you’d see if another man attempted to traipse on my Man’s territory.  He’d die to defend it.  The female lioness is a powerful unit in herself, able to hunt and provide for the pack.  She is capable of survival, but feels she cannot survive without the protection of the lion.  The lion will pick the most genetically superior and strong female to copulate with.  He will copulate with her at his will, as many times as he wants, whenever he wants.  She should not try to resist him, as he will remind her of his dominance over her.  Though she may playfully bat at him, resist his initial advances, she ultimately submits.  Is this any different than a healthy BDSM relationship?  If we are animals at heart, is there anything wrong with someone wanting to find their perfect mate?  Is there anything wrong with dominance and submission, if these principles have been the foundation for evolution as long as life has existed upon the Earth?  Is there anything unnatural about asserting power over someone during a sexual act, as long as that person willingly submits their sexual power to the other?  This seems very basic to me.  Participating in a BDSM lifestyle aligns with something so deep within me that it seems to be ingrained in the very essence of who I am.  It brings me back to my primal past.  It feels as though I evolved into an intelligent, powerful, feminine human being; but, ultimately, I am designed to serve Him.  He is designed to protect and have ultimate power over me; something that he feels is ingrained in every fiber of his being.  Being my Dom puts him in touch with his most primal, animal past.

Modern relationships strip away the element of dominance and submission, placing the couple on equal levels of power in the name of “respect”.  Ultimately, this is a farce as couples will repeatedly and relentlessly fight over maintaining the power in the relationship.  The quest for power is still there and will forever remain in the human species, as we are ultimately animals at heart.  Modern relationships are simply generic boxes containing intense power struggles.  They are externally wrapped in beautiful paper, and aesthetically pleasing to the general populace.  Inside, a kitten.  BDSM relationships are slightly misshaped packages; but, inside they hold the treasures of agreement.  They are wrapped in basic brown paper, having no desire to present something visually appealing to the general populace.  But…

Inside, a lion.


Fuck your “Box”

I think the most interesting people operate two sides of very different worlds.  They have the complexity to traverse between those interdependent realms with ease, pulling off either role seamlessly.  I often think about how heavily we judge people based on what we see through our own eyes, and the socially obstructed veil that ever looms before them.

I was thinking about this the other day when wondering about what people think when they read my blog.  I wonder if any homely woman stops by my page and subsequently renders me a slut.  I wondered if they read me speak of affairs openly, understanding instead of condemning, perhaps even congratulating people on harnessing their own happiness.  I have been the recipient of so many insults aimed directly at my sexuality; they seem to bounce off my thick skin without much thought.  Further yet, I wondered how many people judge me specifically on the basis that I am passionate about being in a 24/7, monogamous, marital, M/s relationship.  The thought of my taboo sex life complicating any other information or solid advice I bestow in my writing.  How many people even bother to read it as soon as they see “BDSM” in the category cloud to the right.  I’m sure you’re asking, “Why do you care?”  You’re right.  I don’t necessarily care for the approval, but I care from the standpoint of analysis and principle:  Why do some people follow the socialistic patterns they were taught?  Is there truly some people that have not a single part of them inclined to understand what lurks behind the unopened door?

“If all I did was stare at polka dots, my eyes would starve for stripes”

I know people see me and believe I desperately hang from the outstretched hand of my financially savvy husband.  You see me in my body hugging, cleverly revealing, yet professional sheath dresses and think I have a library full of beauty magazines.  You assume I obsess over dieting, refrain from eating carbs, spend my entire life on a treadmill, or get plastic surgery.  Perhaps you see me strutting through the grocery store in one of my many pair of 6 inch stiletto heels, and assume I carelessly sling them over the shoulders of men for enjoyment.  A tasteful amount of cleavage escapes the v-neck of my sweater and you assume these beautiful, full breasts are fake; again, you assume they are probably a purchase that my meal ticket husband or my affair partner bought me.  I place a high value on physical appearance; I choose to never leave the house without being “done up”, so I must be under-educated and compensating for my miserable intellect.  I carry myself with poise, so I must be a conceited bitch.  You see me with my kids and assume I’m their biological mother as you watch them hold my hand, tell me they love me, and scurry beside me in their splendor.  You assume I listen to Carrie Underwood, ask my husband to make sweet love to me, grace a pew every Sunday, and obsess over the next episode of some popular reality T.V.  Oh my…

I am financially independent and always have been.  I have maintained my professional career throughout several personal setbacks.  I fully embrace my sexuality, to all degrees possible.  I haven’t touched a beauty magazine since my early 20’s, and don’t define myself by any standard other than that of my approval and that of my Dom.  I have an intense passion for cooking; therefore, I possess an even greater passion for eating.  I don’t deny myself anything that brings me pleasure, nor make myself feel guilty for embracing the pleasures in life.  I sling my 6 in heels over the muscular, mountainous shoulders of my husband, my Dom.  My favorite necklace is a collar.  I am well educated.  I am high maintenance; preferring my husband to parade me about as his trophy wife than walk 10 steps ahead of me while I trudge along in my tattered sweat pants.  I am confident, powerful, and outspoken.  I would still wear my 6 inch stiletto heels while stomping the heads of zombies, should I ever need to do that sort of thing.  I choose to be my husband’s full time submissive, because I have never met a man who can handle me until him.  They were small in spirit.  They were insignificant in presence.  They were boring in entirety.  I wait on my husband hand and foot; I make his meals, plate his food, wash his body, fold his clothing and carry his cum inside me with equal pride.  I serve him and his every request, relentlessly.  We blast NIN, Rob Zombie, Deftones, Massive Attack, Portishead, Tool, Puscifer, A Perfect Circle (yes, they deserve to be listed separately as I have an obsession with Maynard).  I fucking hate Carrie Underwood and her male bashing, spiteful “bitch in a pair of cowboy boots”, country bumpkin, lyrically trite, bullshit example of “music”.  Oh, and those kids…They are my step-children.  I love them as if I’d birthed them.  I love them with a power so great, it instills a fear of jealousy so vile in their mother that feels it’s necessary to punish them for saying my name.  We raise them with confidence, strength; provide them with an example of what love, appreciation, adoration and respect looks like in a marriage.  We eat family dinners together at the table, insist they use their impeccable manners, and share all the pleasurable tales of simplicity of their day.  We look forward to family game night, weekly.  I don’t pray to God, but openly worship my God (my D/Husband).  I am agnostic; but, possess a deep regard for souls, energy, and the possibility at previous lives.  My breasts and every part of this glorious body, often dressed so beautifully in the knot work of my D, are 100% authentic.

Try to place me in a box now…