Category: Reflection

Nonfiction content: discussions on – musing about – or analysis of topics relevant to my amazing, smart, good-looking, and kinky readership.


A few weeks ago, I went to an event that was billed as being a space, “exclusive to Female Dominants and those submissive to them.” This event failed to live up to what was listed on the tin, but that wasn’t really a surprise. What was surprising was that my jaded ass came away with some ideas to contemplate.

Specifically, there was one moment I found striking.

A girl was being beaten in the next room. I did not go to watch this session. I just listened.

Honestly, I’ve heard seen scenes like this enough times that I could probably guess with decent accuracy what was being used on her her by sound alone.

The wailing turned to sobs and it was clearly cathartic, and I got some satisfaction listening to her take it. Especially because she’d been such a brat earlier, the sadism of the tops working on her was gratifying. (Yes, yes, I know that’s what she wanted, but whatever – people can play whatever game they please)

Anyway – at some point I interacted with the girl who was being beaten and remember her claiming to be “transparent when she bottoms.”



Overthinking Pleasure and Pain

A former Domme once confessed she felt both guilty and aroused when she hurt me. It was early in our relationship, and her sadistic desires left her deeply conflicted. Before, during, and after sex, she’d shift between pangs of guilt and jolts of lust. Lucky for me, lust won out.

About six months later, I’d notice how she flexed her fingers while pacing a bit to hold some of her more destructive urges in check. Where she was once torn, those feelings of guilt were  ‘mostly’ gone. Hell, at that point, the mere idea of using me hard made her wet to the knees. (more…)

Revving In Neutral

Sometimes I fall into a vicious cycle where I’m mentally and emotionally frustrated and cannot manage to channel that energy into productive avenues. In the old days, this would lead to drinking or drugs, but I don’t do that anymore. Instead, I try to go about my day, generally fail to complete mundane tasks, and end up feeling ‘stuck.’ This progresses into a cycle of mild depression, feelings of inertia, guilt over said inertia, and on and on it goes until something snaps me out of it.

It feels like I’m seated in a car stuck in neutral yet compelled to rev the engine until it screams. (more…)