Saturday, November 19, 2016

Attempting seduction

In my shallower subspace I am a bit of a brat.  I tend to be a little bit of a tease and will occasionally attempt to turn her on and/or lose control.

This may be bad form on my part, but I've always felt if the dynamics weren't ramped up, there probably isn't any harm in letting the woman I love know that I'm attracted to her.

In regards to this, K was a bit different than F or T. 

With K, it was more of a sensual seduction.  I could rub up against her and nuzzle my face into her shoulder, gently kissing her.  If she looked at me I might make some small motions with my tongue.  If she was "into it" she would look away and pretend to ignore me, forcing my advances to get more aggressive.  At some point she might ask, "what's wrong pet?  I get the impression that you want me to put your tongue to work..." or something along those lines.  K was a bit of a voyeur, so her response was often to have me strip and tease my genitals or my nipples until I was whimpering for her attention.  That was her "warm up" process and it took a few cycles of her ordering me to do/stop doing something for her to get revved up.

F and T were similar in that the majority of what they wanted to do involved my rump.  If I was feeling adventurous I might wiggle my rump for them, "dropping things" and bending over to pick them up, and so on.

With F it was easy to see her progress.  As she would get turned on a grin would form on her face that wouldn't go away and her eyes became... predatory.  F didn't like getting too aroused when it wasn't her choice, so if I did this, I knew I was playing with fire.  This was the start of our sex though, so I will admit to being the guilty party in this.  If I tried to turn her on... she would use that to fuel her sadism... the insolent slave attempting to seduce his Mistress.  It wouldn't be long before I was writhing and squirming, sobbing and struggling within her grasp.  That was what she wanted... to make me cry out in pain and watch my tears flow.  That was her warm up.

With T, I knew that once I offered that up she would both hurt me and violate me, but unlike F, she preferred much more to violate me than to hurt me.  T required a lot less warm up than F or K.  Her arousal was often like a light switch... once it was on, it was on and things would start soon after.  It would only take her half a dozen swats to my rump before she was ready to take me.  I knew after she violated me and my tears subsided, that we would lie together and feel close and intimate. 

I know that in some situations, these attempts at seduction would be frowned upon.  I know that I could live without them but in my memories they are often quite happy times.

Interesting Advertising

Over the past 10+ years I have made a habit of collecting images of clothing that I find attractive.  These have often been used as models in my drawings.  For some odd reason most of what I follow happens during the winter months :P

A recent trend (over the past few years) that has bothered me lately is that the majority of upper end department stores are now cutting off the pictures so that the models aren't visible in the shot... it makes me feel like they may as well have used mannequins.  Most of this is disappointment on my end since I just don't like looking at clothing unless it's on a woman.

While "making the rounds" this year, I randomly stumbled across a collection I had saved years ago  from the Bebe advertising campaign that I managed to save and found it to be rather interesting.  While Bebe designs are often somewhat froufrou, their ads are interesting in that they often seem to push the sexy = powerful type of vibe.

Some years it's a little more blatant than others:

A little CFNM:

I can't lie... this one caters to my Lesbian fantasy:

I stumbled upon this about 2 minutes after making this post. Didn't anticipate them going "this far":

First Snow

It snowed here yesterday, which basically means that winter has started and the weather will likely be shitty until around... May.

I've written about it before, but I was raised to tough it out.  I wear a pair of gloves when it gets cold out, but I rarely zip my coat and I never wear hats, scarves, etc.  This greatly seems to impact the humiliation of my previous experiences with being forced to wear what I have worn.

This past year the ache has grown stronger.  The need for attention in this part of my life is ever-present and very little happens to appease the hunger. 

Over the past few weeks I've mulled over the idea of wearing a pair of fur earmuffs on my way to and home from work.  Nothing outrageously bad, probably something dark colored but probably just past the edge of unisex.  The thought of it makes me squirm a bit and I would have to wonder if this would help.

Self-induced humiliation always feels a bit wrong... but is it better than just feeling desire?  Or would it just be a reminder of how sad I feel on a daily basis?  I don't know.

Some random "What ifs"

Depression has hit me full on these past couple of weeks... I will keep writing in hope that I will see some light at the end of the tunnel.

Some recent events and interactions within the kink realm have gotten me thinking about something again. They are more thoughts than serious considerations but I will go ahead and put them out there.

I have known a handful of male Doms out there that aren't naturally dominant.  They were in fact subs, but due to their enjoyment of kink and inability to attract a Domme (over the course of several years), they switched roles and reclassified themselves as Doms in order to make it easier to find a partner or partners.  This change shuffled their spot on the hierarchy and led to an almost immediate shift in their success.  Basically, they went from being one of the man to one of the few... one of the overlooked to one of the desired. 

I won't lie, at times I've felt this was a bit of a "cheap out."  Instead of working to better oneself as a submissive, to merely flip to a different role in order to make things easier... sort of like giving up the guitar in order to become a bassist or drummer simply to find a band.  My pride as a sub had never allowed me to consider that before, but as I sit here with a heavy and aching heart, what is my pride truly worth?

The other reason I am thinking about this is after hearing from a submissive friend that they discovered their Dom had been looking at a lot of Femdom porn.  I've never considered it "wrong" for a femsub to change roles and become a Domme.  In fact, I've always considered femsubs to simply be those lacking in confidence or self-esteem, and if those factors were present, I have often felt their dominant tendencies would surface quickly.  I'm not sure why I hold this sort of double-standard, feeling like male subs that become Doms are "fakers" while femsubs that become Dommes are "confident and healthy."

It has always been my pride that blocked me from anything other than "dabbling" with what it would be like if I ever switched.  I have been told by a few that they felt I would be a good Dom.  In a lot of ways, my meticulous personality and understanding of how human emotions work within an environmental system probably would make me a responsible Dom.  I doubt that I would ever leave a sub wanting for more strictness.   I am a natural tease and I know how to get into a person's head.  I also know for a fact that with the level that I care for others that I would be able to sustain an environment that could make a sub happy. 

Something that has always puzzled me is why people with strong fetishes are mostly submissive.  e.g. why does someone with a shoe fetish associate as a submissive and often alienate their partners by being drawn more to shoes than to the person?  Wouldn't it be easier for them to be a Dom and order their sub to wear the styles of shoes they fancy? 

With that in mind, would it not be easier for someone like myself to order a sub to wear fur/leather/boots/gloves that I find attractive rather than hope to find someone who enjoys wearing those things?  Probably.  I also know from conversations that most women would be horrified to dress in the way that I have been forced to, so many of the humiliation aspects would carry over. 

Why then do I choose the hard route? 

I know in my heart that this choice isn't for me.  Two major factors come into play.  The first is that I cannot physically hurt a woman, so that pain play and/or corporal punishment is off the table.  I am emotionally incapable of doing such things.  If her face shows suffering my instinct is to make her smile.  The second is that I am sexually incapable of responding from the top role.  I would not be able to perform in that way and I think that would probably be hurtful on many levels.

Beyond that, I know in my heart I do not deserve it.  I am the one who suffers.  I am the one who must earn approval and affection.  I am the one who endures, ever grateful that someone took notice of me. 

I know deep down that if I were to ever attempt a switch that I would be a faker.  I do know that I should probably stop feeling that way about others.

Thursday, November 17, 2016

More blogger changes

I noticed today they made more changes to the dashboard and have removed the "followers" display from the basic interface.  It's still visible if you enter your stats page but seriously...

I know google doesn't seem to give a damn about blogger anymore, but I have to wonder why they persist on making changes that make things worse... rather than just leaving them the same as what they were.  They had to pay someone to make the change... so why this?

The Speed of Time

I remember someone once telling me that time passes as a snail's crawl while you are younger and flies when you get older.

If I delve back into my youth I remember being impatient, slowly counting the days until there was something I was really looking forward to.  It almost felt like time was standing still.  Time seemed to move at a similar type of speed throughout school and until I was done with college.  I have come to believe that having a constant set of responsibilities and time constraints kept it moving that way.  If I have a paper due Friday and an exam on Tuesday, the time from now until will move slowly.

Post-college and in a vanilla life I found time began to fly.  Days pass without notice.  Holidays and the like arrive quickly and without warning.  I feel this happens because there isn't a lot to differentiate one day from the next.  Same shit, different day.

I have frequently been accused of not being able to live in the moment.  This is true in some regards, mostly because I worry about consequences.  The most recent person to tell me this was a local friend (that I have since purged from my life) that on a whim drove to Las Vegas with his wife and blew through their entire savings on booze, drugs, whores (3-ways), and gambling in a week.  They returned broke, asking for loans, and she was pregnant with their third.

I can't say I'm the type to do anything like that.  If I spend money on myself, it is likely on something that can be resold for most of (if not all of) what I have invested in it.  It isn't fleeting.  It will be there tomorrow.  I'm not sure if this makes me boring or not.  It's just how I am wired.

The closest I come to living in the moment is during D/s-related play. It is a break from my other thoughts and stresses and I try to appreciate it for what it is and not "cheapen it" by bringing distractions into the mix.  That being said, even in play I am thinking about the long haul.  While the activity may bring pleasure, it is the bigger picture that really touches my soul.  The play is part of the dynamic.  The dynamic is what I live for.

Since I got out of school, the dynamic is the other factor that has the ability to slow time for me.  A strict dynamic returns about those feelings of responsibility and constraints.  The twinge of fear in the back of the mind... carrying with it the weight of wanting to make her proud, not wanting to be punished, and wanting to feel good about myself as a submissive is a powerful tool.  It is the series of moments within the dynamic that brings it all into perspective.  My desires are no longer my own.  My thoughts drift between the now and the near future as I mull over ideas for new ways in which I can please her.  

Altogether I find it interesting... how "same shit, different day" has such a different impact upon ourselves when it is a life that we would want to live forever.  It's almost like... how we perceive the meaning of our lives determines how quickly time seems to pass. 

I hope some of this makes sense... these are just some thoughts that stir in my heart.