The Queen's Chair

One of my classmates in graduate school is a very accomplished pro-domme, who recently opened her studio/dungeon space to us for summer readings.  We go once or twice a month and read things that we're working on, mostly for classmate feedback and to get some experience reading our work aloud.  Most of the people attending know what she does for a living, so the suspension gear and the locked black cabinets didn't take anyone by surprise.  

However, while she did a pretty good job of clearing the space of anything that might freak out the newbies, there were little telltale signs that I picked out immediately.  If I hadn't known she was a pro-domme, these things would have clued me in:

1.  Her houseboy, dressed in street clothes, was stationed in the kitchen to keep our drinks refreshed and serve us appetizers.  While people thought he was just a friend or boyfriend of hers, I could tell from his submissive demeanor and his dropped eyes exactly what his status was.

2.  The space was spotless.  Immaculate.  Like someone, perhaps a someone dressed in nothing but sissy maid gear, had gone over every inch of the floor and counter space with a scrubbing sponge.  

3.  She had a chair at the front of the room which we were supposed to sit in when we were reading in front of the crowd.  No one really looked closely at the chair except for me.  I think she had it custom-made, because I've never seen one quite like that, but the chair was split along the base to allow for someone, perhaps that same someone in sissy maid gear, to kneel below it and perhaps offer up his mouth for.....what, I wonder?  Worship and adoration?  I giggled to myself as I watched my classmates going up to read, with absolutely no idea what that chair is usually used for.  

After the reading, I had a really pleasant conversation with her, just the usual shop talk exchanged between two women who like to be on top.  At some point, I think we're going to try and have dinner together -- we've met casually before at grad school functions, but we've never been in close proximity, so we haven't had a chance to get to know each other.  She seems like my sort of person though -- strong, confident, comfortable in her own skin.  She has a certain serenity about her that I like.

In other news, I've been having such a good time with my little pet that I have hardly thought about writing this blog.  We've been having a leisurely summer, with little day trips on the weekends, nice dinners out together, and plenty of time pulling out our favorite toys.  I'm happy to report that I'm in a healthy D/s relationship at last -- so healthy, in fact, that D/s is definitely not the focal point all the time.  (Side note:  While some people can certainly live 24/7, I find that things work out much better when you find the blend that's right for you -- and 24/7 is not right for me.  I like an equal at the dinner table, to share my thoughts with.)  We have a lot in common beyond our sexual compatibility, and I think both of us were pleasantly surprised by how things have blossomed in the last few months.  A connection like this is rare, and I am definitely doing what I can to nurture and protect it.

Away sick, coming back around

I've been sick for the last two weeks -- basically, since the week after my pet's birthday, when I got the flu. At one point, I was running a high fever for several days, with shooting pain in my neck and back. I finally had enough energy to go to the ER. I wanted a test to make sure I didn't have viral meningitis and just had the flu -- which is what they confirmed. I was really relieved. I don't get sick very often, but every few years, I get a bad case of the flu and it takes 2-3 weeks to get over it. I even had a flu shot this year, but so much for that!

I'm still got a bit of a cough, but no other symptoms. I missed the Club Fem play party this month (where I was supposed to give a presentation, no less) and spent a lot of my time in bed. I had to keep my work absences down to a minimum, so I was coming straight home after work and school and getting into bed with a dose of Tylenol PM. Not very fun.

My little pet boy was wonderful, however. He's taken care of me every weekend that I've been sick. We live about an hour away from each other, so I have to take the train out to him, but once I get there, he's been fantastic. Very sweet and patient with me, even as I'm coughing all night and feeling low-energy. We haven't played as much as I would have liked, but I haven't been completely dead from the waist down. I managed to feel a little more frisky this weekend -- I think his presence probably had something to do with that.

I still feel, though, like I'm waking up from a coma or something. Still trying to get my energy level back up to what it was. I hope by the end of this week I'll be completely back to normal.

Happy Birthday, little pet

Today is my little pet's birthday, so I'm going out to his house to make him dinner. Yes, Lola does occasionally cook. When I lived overseas, I cooked a lot more often because I had more time and I enjoyed making Western food. I generally think of cooking as something men should be doing (for me), but I will sometimes cook for someone, if he particularly deserves it.

After the cooking, there will be a lot of playing. We just recently set up a harness under his bed so I can tie him to it, and my pet took to bondage like a duck to water. His eyes light up when I tie him down.

I've been incredibly busy lately, finishing up work for school and getting a huge project done at work. I hope to write more next week, but for now, this is as much of an update as I have time for.

But to my favorite, well-cherished and spoiled little pet: happy birthday. All your sweetness, patience and obedience has made me very fond of you. You're a unique and fantastic boy.

Anticipation

I had a critique last night, for a piece of creative writing I've been working on. The work is relatively fresh and challenging for me -- I've essentially been using the energy from a recent incident in my life to fuel a story which is ostensibly about something else. And in struggling to talk about these things, a lot of unexpected twists emerged. My instructor last night pointed out a lot of the potentials of this work I hadn't quite seen yet.

The story explores what it means to have a fetish, whether it is possible to love someone as a result of pursuing that fetish, what it means to lose that love, how people manipulate their own memories and experiences in order to persuade other people, and it mixes in race and gender in ways I didn't anticipate when I started. I also flirt, very openly, with the fact that this story -- or some parts of it -- may be my own experiences. The instructor warned me about the ramifications of that, even as he suggested that it was intriguing. I learned the most from him about what was working in the story by what he warned me about -- the warnings were a sign to me that I was onto something potentially dangerous, which is what I want.

Afterwards, I went out with two of my favorite classmates and we had a long, interesting conversation. Both of them are gay men, and they got me talking about sadism. We got into the specifics of what I enjoy about inflicting pain. It was strange to describe it in such detail -- the tingle in your hand when it slaps skin, the eroticism of someone gasping in pain, the desperate, lost, dependent quality of a man who both longs for and fears you putting nipple clamps on him (or taking them off), the sight of him bent over for you, the knowledge that you could do it harder and he would take it happily, the freedom of being cruel when cruelty is so forbidden to women socially. In some ways, I can't even put words to the way I'm feeling when I'm being sadistic -- it is probably one of the moments in my life when I am the most wordless. I act, I don't speak very much.

I came home to find a sweet little note from my pet telling me that he missed me. Those small little gestures of longing and vulnerability are exciting -- knowing that he can't wait to serve me again adds a little spring to my step that I wouldn't otherwise have. Feeling that hunger to use him again soon, and knowing that I will see him in a few days. The anticipation is an important part of the fun.

Fantastic weekend

I had a surprisingly good weekend. I say 'surprisingly' because, at the start of it, I was not feeling very well. My menstrual cycle, about half of the time, is quite painful, and I woke up on Saturday in a good deal of pain. I spent a good chunk of the day wrapped around my heating pad, feeling sorry for myself.

However, Domme duty calls, so I rallied, packed up my stuff, and met my little pet for dinner before the ClubFem play party. One of the wonderful things about my pet is that he's very thoughtful, and he showed up with flowers for me, and a fantastic present: a pink riding crop he bought me, from an equestrian outfitter. If he's trying to stay in his favored position at the end of my leash, he's doing a very good job so far.

We had dinner and then went early to the party to help the Headmistress set up. I helped lace another Domme into her corset, ordered a few boys around, and got changed myself. Since I wasn't feeling that well, I didn't dress up as much as I wanted to, but the power surge of so many eager little submissive boys definitely improved my mood. By the time I got dressed, I was feeling a lot sassier. I wore a black bustier under a sheer top, a miniskirt with a slit up the side, and black suede platform boots. And I made my pet wear his special little ruffled panties, as well as my collar and pink leash. That was a particular honor for him -- one that he thanked me for profusely.

The party was a lot of fun -- especially towards the end, when the masochists started lining up for me. I haven't been able to let my inner sadist out that much in a good long while, and it felt incredible. The Headmistress loaned me one of her boys, who can really take a beating, and I used a new red-and-black flogger on him which is particularly nasty. I made him bellow quite nicely, and left him with some nice purple welts along his hips and ass. I also just let myself go -- I went into that floating, happy, sadistic headspace, and I can tell from the soreness in my biceps that I really used nearly my full strength.

At one point, after I'd beat the Headmistress's boy, I turned around and saw a number of eager, slightly terrified little boys' faces. Some of them are probably less interested in me than they were -- because now they know I can really pack a wallop. But a few of them are a little more interested -- for the very same reason!

And now my pet knows just what I'm capable of. He's not a masochist, so I would really never do that to him, but he does know he'll get punished if he doesn't obey. It isn't a bad thing for him to see just how much power and authority I can have when I want it.

On the train home, he gave me the other half of what I need -- cuddling and service. And then the next morning I woke up and got the pampering I deserve. We put his foot-worshiping skills to good use once again, among other things. He knows I'm quite pleased with him so far.

So yes, I'm a little smug and happy today. People ask me how my weekend was, and I can't answer them honestly -- I can't exactly say, "Well, I spanked four or five boys this weekend, and really beat the hell out of one of them, got my feet worshiped, used my little pet as much as I wanted, and generally feel quite rested, thank you." But when I say, "my weekend was quite nice, thanks for asking", all of that contentment is definitely in my voice.

Foot worship

I got my feet worshiped by my little pet last night. He cooked me dinner, bathed my feet carefully in hot water, and then as a reward I let him worship. It turns out this is a particular strength for him -- it was one of the best foot-worshiping sessions I've ever had. I was close to orgasm by the end of it, seriously. He'll be doing that a lot more often.

And now back to reality - work. Although I'm working towards being 'my own boss' someday, I'm still somewhat at the mercy of academic forces above me. My current higher-up is a woman, a woman who really does not know how to wield power effectively and fairly. She's too critical at the wrong moments and she leaves the running of the office solely in my hands, but fails to appreciate just how often I protect her back for her. You should never have someone do your job for you, and then get snippy with them about the work they're doing. It is a dangerous combination.

I had a meeting with a mentor of mine yesterday, though, and he reminded me that I work only for myself, for the pleasure of financing my artistic work. Remembering that makes it easier to let the little stupid things go. I have a lot in the works, and if I just keep focused on that, I should move forward fairly steadily over the next two years. This job will eventually be a distant memory.

Meanwhile, I'll be taking my little pet on his little pink leash to a play party this weekend, and that should be fun. I love the happy look he gets on his face when I snap that leash on.

Weekend Update

After a very satisfying weekend -- including an overnight visit with a very special little pet, you know who you are -- I still have another day off tomorrow. I should really be getting more work done, but I admit, I've been spoiling myself this weekend. I needed a few days off.

I had an afternoon coffee with the Headmistress of ClubFemNYC, the organization to which I belong. She's such an amazingly gracious and wonderful person. I felt instantly at home with her, from the moment we met. Sometimes people and situations come into your life at precisely the perfect moment, and that's how I'm feeling about ClubFem. I've spent too long looking for the right boy online, when the online environment is a place that breeds the kind of bad behavior I want to avoid. I've never been more clear in my life about what I want than I am these days -- and never so determined not to compromise that, or myself. ClubFem absolutely provides the right support system for that. I had almost forgotten how vital it is to socialize with other Dommes -- they remind me of what I am, and how important it is to safeguard and honor that.

Anyway, a few hours with the Headmistress, and I was feeling very good about where I am right now, very clear-headed and happy. We talked about our plans for a training academy for submissives who want to learn how to really attract the right mistress, and I agreed to take on some of the logistical organizing of this -- I'll be really curious to see if any boys have what it takes to make it through. If they do, they'll have the approval of at least five formidable Dominant women, and I'm sure our references will certainly count for something. We each will take turns training one boy, he'll get a different Domme each month to teach him skills he needs to learn. I don't know -- if a guy approached me and he had the approval of five Dommes and had been trained in almost everything I liked, that would really make me sit up and take notice. That's like a dream-submissive right there.

Domme Group last night

The Dommes' Group that I went to last night was the absolute shot of positivity in the arm that I needed. It was so nice to be part of a community again. The women were all very cool, and it felt empowering to be around such like-minded, good people.

And yes, there were hopeful single boys. I had a lovely talk with one of them. He was gracious, sweet, polite and respectful: something that gave me encouragement that there are good submissive boys out there. No one is perfect, certainly, but knowing how to treat a Mistress is essential to ever successfully attracting one. If you can't even manage to be respectful in a conversation, you are not ready.

Last night also reminded me that I am still firmly in control of this process. I felt like I was back in my element. For me perhaps the most powerful part of the evening was hearing the older women reinforce what I already knew, but their experience gives them a steadiness that I am still learning to achieve.

There was also a married couple there. The woman wore a key around her neck - a sure sign that she's got her husband locked in chastity. It touched me to see a successful, smart couple like that out in the world, making it work. There were other, older couples in attendance who've been together for several decades, and that also touched me. You can get very downtrodden in this lifestyle, thinking that things will always be fleeting and short-lived, that people will only disappoint you and that the voiced devotion of submissive boys is only that -- voiced, not real. To see people making it work was a kind of encouragement I didn't even know that I needed. After the last few months, especially, I needed to see that -- it moved me almost to tears.

They have a play party coming up, and I also got invitations to other events. Getting out there seems to be a vast improvement for me right now. I might even be able to put my sissy-training skills to work again someday.