ABC’s of BDSM/Kink

In celebration of Dr. Seuss’ birthday this month…let’s go on a little sojourn into the ABC’s of BDSM and kink, shall we?

A is for Anal.  Come on ladies, ass up.  It’s no longer just for birthdays, anniversaries and make-up sex.  I’ll Analyze it for you.  It is Amazing. So get off of yours and get some…

B is for Bondage.  Bound by ropes, cuffs or even words…there is no freedom like it. Hog-tied.  Tied to the bed.  Hands in front.  Hands behind.  Legs.  Ankles.  Hands tied to legs…to ankles…to the bed…I could go on…

C is for Control. The word itself stirs me…In my humble submissive opinion, it is best given away and Consensually coerced with the use of a strong Crop and well-positioned Clamps.

D is for Dominant.  Delicious.  Decisive.  Direct and Demonstrative.  All I can say, in Southern-speak is DAAYYUUMM. (Which is DAMN…for those of y’all who don’t speak the language)

E is for Exhibitionism.  Could you would you in a boat? Could you would you in my throat?  Could you would you in plain sight?  Could you would you when it’s bright?  It’s anytime.  Anywhere. Exposed.  Erotic.  Exciting.

F is for Fetish.  Fly your freak flag. All are welcome.  Flags of a feather Freak together, with Floggers and all.

G is for Good Girl.  These 2 words, when used together, dripping from the lips of my M, ignite a fire in my loins that burns like the flames of Hades. That’s HOT…Damn HOT.

H is for Hitachi Wand.  You know you’re in for a fun night when the lights flicker and dim as it is switched on. Now, that’s some powerful shit…Hello and HOWDY, Mr. Hitachi.

I is for Insatiable. To quote the late-great-Barry White…”My darling..I can’t get enough of your love baby”  (Sing it to yourself in his baritone and you’ll totally get it)

J is for Jesus.  Not trying to be funny here…but I guarantee I say His name about 100 times in the midst of a kinky weekend.  Just sayin’.  As God is my witness…

K is for Know thyself.  To set boundaries and establish limits, one must know who they are.  K is also for Kink.  And lots of it.  Go big or go home.

L is for Little.  It’s a wonderful place to be…sometimes stocked with glitter and rainbows…It can also stand for Love.  Lust.  Lustful.  Lusting after…

M is for Masochism.  The sheer pleasure from pain. Mouth-watering smacks on the ass that Melt. My Master is a master at this…More, please.

N is for Nipple clamps.  These implements demand upright attention.  And there is something so Naughty about having someone tug on your chain.  State of Nirvana guaranteed…

O is for OH MY GOD…Orgasms.  Preferably lots of them.  Sometimes they are denied, but when allowed…they are Overwhelming.  Oh..my.

P is for Paddle.  Ah, the precise Pain from the use of a Proper Paddle. It’s Penetrating.

Q is for Quiche.  In order to do all of this kinkery…one must eventually eat to keep one’s strength up.  On a side note..real men do eat quiche and they also eat pussy for that matter. So eat the fucking quiche already.  You already know what’s for dessert.

R is for Rope.  Japanese silk.  Jute.  Nylon.  Regardless of the material, it’s the technique that counts, Scout’s honor.

S is for Safe and Sane.  It’s the Sadists out there you have to watch out for, you know.  Sluts beware.

T is for Talk.  “I am your dirty whore from way back, Daddy.” I fucking love to Talk dirty during hot, carnal sex.  Although I don’t always get to say much when his cock is halfway down my Throat.

U is for Use Me.  Analogy:  What “good girl” is…when spoken to me…”Use me” is…when I say it.  It’s global warming, climate-changing dialogue that turns me into a dripping mess…as I anticipate the Unspeakable things awaiting me.

V is for Vibrators.  Be mindful of the friendly Vibrator packaged as a personal massager…it’s certain to Violate you in ways unfathomable…such Vigor.

W is for Wet. Here it is used in a sentence.  Whips and Wartenburg Wheels make me Wet. Weally…Weally…WET.

X is for, you guessed it…X-RATED.  Once again…my humble and submissive opinion.  Handle your business in the bedroom (or wherever it may be for the Exhibitionists) and act like you are making an XXX rated movie.  Crank it up a notch whether or not the camera’s rolling.  Or whether or not you know it’s there….

Y is for Yours.  It is about belonging to your One.  It should be said frequently.  It’s a powerful statement.  Practice with me, “I am YOURS.”  Say it loud.  Say it proud.  You know who You are.

Z is for Zen.  We, subbies out there refer to this as “subspace” which is a state achieved when you lose all conscious awareness and rely on the sublime feeling of pure ecstasy as you float in the moment.  It is heaven on earth.  ZEN….Namaste…hey…hey…hey

So I will close with this…

Down and dirty and downright flirty, this little post is meant to amuse those who use those

For their pleasure, with a feather or even paddled and likely straddled.

Some like it hot and some like it cold.  Some want them young.  And some want them old.

Some crave the pain while others like to restrain.  Some prefer the view from the top as they wield their crop to their unsuspecting bottoms’ bottoms…

Waiting to hear that first “POP”

But it’s all in good fun, for now I must run.  The wheel calls my name in decibels of pain.

Waiting for “good girl” to drip from his lips as I arch my back and hips and spread my thighs, I watch his eyes and I hear my sighs ring out into night’s sky…

I recite in my head as I approach the first O…

Oh The Places You’ll Go.  And Go.  And Go. And Go.

Oh the places

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss…

 

 

Advertisements

50 First Dates

I have a feeling this post will be cliché-laden.  I apologize to those readers who loathe the overused cliché, but it’s all in good fun.

I began this reflective post prior to the New Year as a summary of my experiences so far…but a family crisis prevented me from writing much more than the title.  (More about that will come in a later post)

So here goes….

“You’ve come a long way baby”

This journey started out as a venture into the exploration of Dominance and submission.  I honestly wanted nothing more than a simple romp in the hay with a man in charge…in control of himself, able to direct and control me.

So let’s reflect on those who were nothing more than one-hit wonders…those not worthy a repeat performance….or worthy of anything other than a mere play-date.

You know, “you never get a second chance to make a first impression.”

“At the end of my rope”

There was Don Knots…the fact that this boy scout was into tying knots more than he was into me, was a sign that I needed to do a better job screening my suitors.  But we all have to start somewhere.  Guess I started at the bottom, on the bottom, as the bottom…literally.

“An apple a day, keeps the doctor away.”

Then there was the good doctor…”Dr. Pierce”.  He gets the award for the most awkward date ever.  EVER.  But I did enjoy myself on the trip to his little corner of the world and I learned quite a bit about hockey.  Yes.  You read that correctly.  Much of our date was centered around his view of a televised hockey game.  And I can now say that I have experienced a piercing.  Even if it was with Sheldon’s twin.

“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”

There was the over zealous firefighter.  Never had a play-date and feel like I dodged a bullet there.  I could feel some serious stalker tendencies and I likely would have ended up tied to him for longer than I wanted.  With no escape.  Nice guy.  Just wrong guy.

“Sharp as a marble”

There’s Opie.  I know I haven’t named him before now…pure vanilla.  Pure waste of time. Not worthy of a test drive around Mayberry.  Not the one.  Not even close.  Not the droid I was looking for.  Bless him.

“Missed the boat”

There was the Captain.  Such potential there…but not what I was hoping for.  Reminds me of a NFL draft pick gone wrong.  Had all of the credentials, but just fell short when it was game time.  I bet he is his own worst enemy.  Another nice guy, but not a Dom at heart.

 

Now onto the next group…

“Business at hand”

Marky Mark and I had one playdate…however, we found that from a business stance, we were exceptionally compatible.  So we channeled our intensity into some creative business ventures.  We continue to be friends and I have immense respect for him.  And I will admit, we had a great time…but we are far better as business partners.

“Your father wasn’t a glass maker”

There’s Father D.  Kind man, but just not Dominant enough for me in the way I need it.  He was too controlling for my taste.  I think he would fare better with a younger woman who looks to him as a Daddy.  I just couldn’t go there.  Not with him.  I feel certain he will find the right fit.  She’s out there…I even helped him build his online dating profile.  Wish the best for him.

“Yanking my chain”

There is The Natural/The Seeker.  Our time together was his first foray into the lifestyle.  A quick-study, he looked to have incredible potential.  I had great sessions with him.  We seemed to connect on every level, but the conversation fizzled the farther we went.  We ran out of things to talk about.  Looking back, I now understand why he was limited in communication.  He was in another relationship and had not been honest with me.  Which is the reason I let him go.  No trust…no play.

“Good fences make good neighbors.”

The Goodfella…Henry Hill.  Even though we never sealed the deal, we became good friends. And when I turned to him for advice…he never steered me wrong.  And he is Ray Liotta’s twin when he wears a business suit.

“Hope springs eternal.”

There’s Hemingway and Billy the Kid.  On opposite sides of the age spectrum, these two fellas were gents in the true sense of the word.  Both brilliant.  Both successful.  Both incredibly fun.  Both served a great purpose in my life.  I realize that they were getting me ready.  Preparing me for something bigger.  Something more.  I was able to explore a deeper friendship with these two and it allowed me to be open for the One.  Through my connection with them, I realized that I (the cynic) could open my heart to the right One.

“You live and you learn….”

There’s Ike Turner.  I hate to waste space even mentioning his name, but it needs to be written.  Ladies (and gents alike) listen the little voice inside your head that tells you something is wrong.  Don’t try to rationalize.  Don’t overlook red flags.  I was lucky.  I was able to learn a lesson with minimal damage.  There was far more that happened on that Sunday in July than I shared.  Maybe one day, I will put it out there, maybe I won’t.  But I learned from it.  And I am stronger and wiser because of that wrong turn.

“Baptism by fire…”

There is the one I call Sir.  The one who helped me understand that what I sought was more than just play time.  That what I really wanted had a purpose.  He helped me see the spiritual side of D/s, which led me to begin writing this blog.  It led me to see things in a different light.  We have lost touch over the last few months.  Wish him the best.  Our limited time together was pivotal in directing me on this path.  Peace be to you, Sir.

And there’s the title to this blog.  Some of the BDSM purists initially overlooked my page because of the title.  I’ve gotten some serious flack for it.  But being in marketing, I couldn’t resist the opportunity.  I felt like giving the blog this title would open it up to a larger audience….which it has.  And I do feel that I have been saved.  I am humbled by the number of followers and views I’ve received in this past year.  I do hope that my readers have gleaned something from my experiences.  

So that’s not 50 first dates, is it?  No, not quite 50.  But all of these encounters.  The good. The bad.  The ugly.  The hysterically funny.  All were leading me to the One.  So 50 first dates on 50 Shades of Saved led me to One Amazing Man, my Maestro.  I can’t wait to continue chronicling our journey towards the enlightenment we seek together.  So I will conclude with this…

“A good man is hard to find.” I am thankful that I found my Maestro.

He found me “in the nick of time.”

And “the times, they are a changing.”

Stay tuned readers…”there’s lots coming down the pike”  (hee-hee)

(Here’s a cliché for what is on the way…“Space, the final frontier”)

Happy New Year.

The Road Not Taken…

We all know the poem, a Robert Frost classic.  It is a poem about the choices we make.

One road is traveled, assumed to be the easier path.

The other road is less traveled and unknown.

Unpaved and filled with uncertainty.

I have spent the majority of my life walking between these two roads.

In career, I have often taken the road less traveled, making instinctive decisions and taking risks.  Luckily, this has paid off for me.

In my family life, I have always done what is expected of me on the well-traveled path.  My methods may be a bit unorthodox, but I am usually able to keep everyone healthy and happy.

In my social life I teeter between the two roads with an eclectic mixture of friends and acquaintances.

Some friends stay on the main road, never diverting their eyes from the path in front of them.  Only going where others have gone before them.  Obligation and expectation serve as their compass.

Other friends occasionally take a detour off of the main thoroughfare, but always return to the comfort of the well-established, clearly lit road of familiarity.

A handful of friends don’t need a stinkin’ road.  They blaze their own trail in their bare feet.

In my love life, I have always taken the paved road complete with signs, mile markers and most importantly…

Well-defined EXITS…

When it comes to matters of the heart, I have never wanted to venture down the road less traveled, with unexpected twists and turns, one way streets and potential for dead ends.

I have never traveled that road until now.

Here I am on my journey to enlightenment and the only way to reach my destination is to navigate this elusive path of unchartered territory, that in a word… is love.

Until this point in my travels, I have been led by guides…gentlemen I’ve met on this trip who have pointed me in the direction of my destination.

I’d like to take a minute to reflect on those whose guidance led me to where I am now.

There are the ones who showed me what I don’t seek:  Don Knots, Dr. Pierce and Bond/Ike Turner.

I learned a lot from exploring what I did not want, understanding that I have no use for frustrated boy scouts, pierced psychiatrists without social skills and cruel bastards who pretend to understand the lifestyle.  These experiences allowed me to further bypass these exits along the journey.

No need to travel these dead-end roads once again.

There are those that just didn’t work out.  They weren’t disasters, but there was something missing from either the chemistry or the dynamic:  Father D, The Captain, Marky Mark.

These gentlemen had all the makings of guiding me further on the journey, but fell short of navigating the distance.  No hard feelings.

There are those with amazing potential, that just never happened:  Mr. Hyde in Baltimore and the trident carrying firefighter, who told me to trade in my trainers for stilettos…it was time to stop running.

There are those who made a significant impact on my life: Sir, Hemingway, Henry Hill, Billy the Kid and the Natural.

Each of these gentlemen transitioned from their position as guide to being a friend.

Sir still gives me spiritual guidance (whether or not I heed it).  He is always hopeful that he will someday save my wretched soul.

Hemingway gave me my confidence back.  He helped me heal from a horrific experience.  He restored my faith in the journey.  He put me back on my spiritual sojourn.

Henry Hill has morphed into one of the best friends I have.  I rely on him to help me make difficult decisions.  He has a true wisdom and has yet to steer me wrong.  He is one of the few people on this earth that can make me laugh out loud.  And he’s pretty easy on the eyes.

Which leads me to Billy the Kid.  Billy has been the biggest surprise of all.  Who would have thought that this young gun would make such an impact in my life?  He is the personification of cool.  A true gentleman who enjoys the finer things in life and reminds me that to get the best, one must demand the best.  Never settle.  In my humble opinion, no one will ever be good enough for Billy.

And finally….

The Natural taught me valuable life lessons.  He allowed me to hear my inner voice, to atone for things in my past and to let go. Most importantly, in his own way, he prepared me for the One.

No longer will my fragile heart seek the solace of the well-traveled road.  Instead, I boldly skip along on this path of unknown origins heading straight for the One.

He is out there.  I now know Him.

I have looked into His eyes.

I have kissed His lips.

He has touched my soul.

I am His.  I give myself…

Freely

Shamelessly

And although I am walking upon this road without signs or exits, I have a peace knowing He is leading me.  Walking with me.  Protecting me.

Guiding me on this road to enlightenment that just so happens to be filled with love.

No doubts

No detours

Just hand in hand on the journey to happiness, how ever we define it.

Heading confidently towards our destination.

As I close this reflective post, I can’t help but think of one of my favorite quotes:

“She wasn’t where she was,

She wasn’t where she was going…

She was on her way.”

Off we go…

Numbers

Numbers play an important role in our daily lives.

We set alarms to wake up at a specific time
There’s a number…not my favorite.  Today it was 4:15 AM

We leave at a specific time to arrive at work/school on time
Another number…perhaps one I should pay closer attention to

We buy gas for our cars
How about those numbers?  Yikes

We buy coffee, lunch, etc
Numbers that quickly add up

We pay our bills
Numbers…some bigger than we want

We celebrate birthdays
The ever-increasing number

We date interesting gents from an online dating site
Number?

What?  Wait a minute….

What are the important numbers in dating?

Aside from keeping up with the exact number of spankings I receive, numbers often play an interesting role in the dating scene.

Here are a few I like to keep track of…

How many messages are exchanged before they bring in sexual innuendo?

How many messages before they ask for a phone number?

When is the initial meeting?

Those are all significant numbers.  Some would say I have skipped important numbers like their income…how many kids they have…how many times they’ve been married.

But I say, no.  That stuff is not a priority for me, unless they have been married more than Elizabeth Taylor.  We all make mistakes.  No judgement here.

Or if they haven’t held down a job since Clinton was president.  (There’s actually a number for that…a big fat ZERO)

Here’s another number to look at when dating….

Their age.

I have been surprised to find how significant and insignificant these numbers are.

Someone may be 46 years old in human years….but have the social acumen of a nervous 14 year old.

On the other hand, he could be 26 years old…and have the presence of a seasoned CEO.

He could be 31 and carry himself with the confidence and humility of a military General.

He could have his AARP card and still have the stamina of a freshman at Florida State.

Age is relative to the person.

Relative to their life experience.

Because I have learned this firsthand on my journey, I find that I pay little attention to age when perusing the dating scene.

But I do see trends.  Just my observations…

The older, more experienced men have a tendency to skip over the niceties.  They are often the gropers on the first date.  The ones who just try too hard.  Many of these men have been married for a long period of time and they are looking for that level of familiarity.

I also find that the older crowd is less apt to embrace change.  They have done it this way and it’s the way they do it.

The younger ones are eager to learn the ways of the experienced older teacher, while bringing their own set of skills.

I have found in my limited experience that they are more attentive.  And tend to be great listeners.

Listening to learn from their elders.

They can be a bit pushy at times, but I find it easier to redirect the younger student than their older counterpart.

Maybe I am a bit twisted…

Don’t answer that…

But I have found that my favorite suitors have been a bit younger or significantly younger than me.

They seem to embrace what I am in to and do all they can to learn more…

Their quest for knowledge and understanding is sexy.

And on a side note,  they are great with tech support stuff.  If I have an iPhone issue, they are the first on the scene with a solution.  Computer issue?  No problem.  It’s great! 

And those who are my age are fun and have their benefits.  Many of them are bitter from their impending mid-life crisis, but nonetheless, I enjoy them equally.

But the young ones are intriguing…

And nothing against the older, more seasoned gents.

Sometimes I crave the freshness over the seasoning.

And we will leave it at that…

Luck Be a Lady

rat pack

His last message to me was Thursday night…

“Just be ready tomorrow night at 8:30. Wearing something that makes you feel sexy and shows cleavage. And leave all your doubts outside my car door. I won’t speak to you until I see you in your driveway. And Darlin’, don’t be late”

The man knows how to express himself.

Who am I referring to, you ask?

Billy the Kid, the ultimate Outlaw.  Yes, Billy.  The Young Gun, who actually carries one (with the proper permit)…which I find sexy in an wild west kind of way.

Promptly at 8:30, I opened my front door and there he was…leaning on the hood of his sparkling clean car, arms crossed, smiling with a hint of mischief in his eye.  (Keep in mind, I don’t allow my kids to meet anyone I go out with…it could be confusing to them.  So I meet my gentlemen callers outside, while the sitter is inside with the kids.)

He walked over to me, took my hand and put me in the car.  Very old-school….

And speaking of old-school, Billy looked the part of a classic gentleman.   Wearing a lavender checked button-down, gray slacks and suspenders, he was equally classic and hip.   And his sleeves were cuffed showing his impressive Tag Heuer watch.  (I don’t know what there is about a man in a nice dress shirt, with the sleeves cuffed, wearing a big watch…but it always does it for me. Maybe it’s the time thing.  Seeing as I am always late…maybe it represents some inner longing to be punctual…I digress…)

But let me announce to my readers, for ONCE in my life, I was punctual.

We went to a local night spot and had a few drinks, and then Chrissy arrived to join the party.

You see, Billy has a Bucket List of naughty things he’d like to do.  And the number one….the holy grail….is participating in a ménage a trois.

And this man has accomplished so much in his 26 years on earth.  He is so driven.  So ambitious.  I want to give him this experience.  He is deserving.  After all, he will be doing his post graduate work at an Ivy League school, far, far away.  I see this as my gift to him, before he leaves.

So the three of us spent time getting to know each other, to explore our dynamic together.

There was palpable chemistry.  It made the server uncomfortable.  She could see it…and the fact that I announced, in my tipsy state, that Billy was trying to get us drunk to “have his way with us” probably didn’t help.

Initially though, I could feel some nervousness from all of us at the table.  Think about it.

How does One

Who is looking for “Three”

Make sense out of the Two?

Yes, I know.  The question sounds like a word problem from a standardized test.

But Billy, an Ivy League scholar, is great with math…and great with women.  He quickly sorted it out.

As an icebreaker, we talked about things we had never done, but wanted to do.  Vanilla things.

For Billy, he wants to bungee jump.

For Chrissy, she talked about skydiving.

For me, I disclosed that I had never been camping.  And I can’t say that I want to.

But bungee jumping? Yes, I would love to!

Skydiving? Yes, I would love to!

A three-way? With Billy and Chrissy? Oh, yes…I would love to!  And they were in also.

So we set a tentative date to play.  At Chez Moi.  Next weekend.

And we walked Chrissy to her truck. Both of us stole a kiss before departing.  Which was a different twist for me.  But it’s intriguing.  I kept hearing Melissa Etheridge songs in my head.

As we walked back to his car, we passed a man on the sidewalk playing guitar.  I love that Billy paused for a moment and gave him a few dollars.  Not because his playing was stellar.  Not to impress me.  It’s just how the Outlaw rolls.  He is classy.

And being the class act he is, he put me in the car.  Someone needed to….after all, Billy ordered me a very strong beverage called the Grateful Dead.  I don’t know what it had in it…likely the ashes of Jerry Garcia were sprinkled in there, as it was one potent drink.

On the drive home, I recalled another item from Billy’s Bucket List that involved my “involvement” driving on the highway.  I thought it the perfect time to dive into that bucket and make it happen.  Which I did, since we were traveling on a dark parkway.  I am not as flexible as I once was, but I am forever in debt to the man who invented tilt steering.

When we arrived at the house, we talked for a bit in the car.  Aside from the intense and kinky physical relationship we have, Billy is a great conversationalist.  He can keep up with my ADD style of chatter with ease.  And prior to my exiting the car, he handed me money.  Honestly, I was thinking…I don’t need any money for the work I did on the drive home, honey…when he said,

“This is for the babysitter, Darlin’.  If it’s not enough, I will be glad to give you more next time we meet.”

I was floored.  Of all of the middle-aged, professionals I’ve dated, not a single one has ever offered to pay for my sitter.  (And my sitter, that I affectionately call Mary Poppins, is amazing…and expensive).

Again, this man, this enigma, Billy the Kid, channeled old-school charm like Gregory Peck or Frank Sinatra, himself.

Whoever snags him as their mate, is one lucky gal.  Damn….

So on that note, I am closing this post with a throwback song that foreshadows the upcoming event, tentatively planned for next weekend.

Luck be a Lady…or TWO Ladies…Best is Yet to Come, Billy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well okay then…Okay Cupid

You know my disdain for online dating.  As I’ve said, I find the whole thing tedious.

But yet, I am still on there. I am on Ok Cupid. 

Must be the masochist in me that keeps me registered.

But as I reflect on my experience, I have managed to find a few gems in the dark mine of contrived hedonistic limbo, that is online dating.

After all, I met Sir there.  And although we don’t see each other, we are in contact.  He still guides me, spiritually.

I met Henry-fucking-Hill there.  And although we have yet to seal the deal, he has turned out to be a real favorite.  He is the first person I call when things go south.  He and his gangster ways help me to put things into perspective, like a real goodfella.

I met Billy the Kid on there.  The one who provides the perfect dynamic in my chaotic life, blending friendship and hot carnal pleasure.  And his brilliance is the ultimate aphrodisiac.  I enjoy riding off into the sunset/sunrise with this young gun.

I met Mr. Hemingway.  The one man who penetrates my tar-black soul releasing me to new levels of Nirvana.  The one most likely to be the One.  Sigh.

And I am registered on Fetlife and Alt.com.  (Met Ike Turner on Alt, yuck)

But again, I have found more success on OKC.

Why is that?  Is it pure luck?  Or have I learned to master the questionnaire enough to select those who possess what I seek?

Here are the questions I examine when looking for those with potential to bring the dynamic.

There is the blatant question:  Do you consider yourself to be: Dominant, Submissive or Balanced?  Do you prefer your partner to be, Dominant, Submissive or Balanced?

If they can’t get that one right, I automatically move on.  They have to be willing and able to put it out there.  After all, if they are Dominant, it shouldn’t be an issue to do so.   And I look for those seeking a Submissive partner.

Describe yourself, are you more carefree or intense? They must answer “intense” as I will have no Deadheads, Parrotheads or the like, trying to dominate me.  They are so laid back, I’d never get tied up.

Next question:  What makes for a better relationship, passion or dedication?

I seek those answering “Passion” as I have found those looking for “Dedication” are needy and clingy.  I want someone to be passionate.

Next question:  Do you want your partner to be kinkier than you:  Yes, No, Not possible.

I may be a slut for saying it, but I want those who answer, “Not possible” as it lets me know they are a bit “out” there.  Incidentally, I answered it, “Not possible.”

Next question:  What is more important to you right now, love or sex?

I am not looking for love.  Let’s be real…we are all adults here.  Even when they answer love, they mean sex.  But if someone has the balls to put “sex” as their answer, they score points with me.  Those who put ‘love’ have the potential to be clingy and possessive.  Not what I seek.

And the final one, in my litmus test of finding the kinksters:

If you were to die and people were to go through your belongings, would they be shocked at what they find?

Answer choices are:  Yes, No, A little, Very.

I want the ones who answer with a “Yes” and I really like the ones who answer “Very” as this implies they have some varied accoutrements in their possession.  I answered, “Very”.  I do think about that from time to time…what would they do if they found my box of fun…complete with cuffs, riding crops, collars, etc.

So if the person answers the questions accordingly, I may engage them in a message.  Typically they have already messaged me.

Question to the other subs out there reading this:   Is there an invisible tattoo that appears on our foreheads that only Dominant types can see?  I have had so many approach me, almost already knowing that I am a submissive.  How do they do that?   Hemingway knew out of the gate that I was submissive.  He says there’s a look in my eyes that tells my story. 

I digress….

So as the messaging moves forward, I can determine even more.  If they are the jealous-type, they check when I log into OKC.  “Saw you were on this morning…I haven’t messaged anyone since I found you.  Are you still getting messages?”

Code word:  Stalker.  Insecure.  Clingy

That message shuts it down for me.  How dare they assume that because I have had an exchange of friendly cyber-banter that I belong to them.  I block them and move on. 

Other messages take on an overt sexual tone. 

Now folks, we have established that I am no prude.  I have been known to enjoy the company of a man.  Preferably a Dominant man. 

When they become too sexual too fast, that’s a huge red flag for me.  I find it crass and unsophisticated.  I am fine with a little innuendo peppered into the conversation, but when it goes to, “I love your tits.  I can wait to….”

Code word:  Frat boy. Troglodyte.

Again, I am no prude.  I know the conversation will eventually go this route, however, I demand a higher level of finesse.  When they are crass and overtly direct, I know they will never understand the dynamic I seek. They are focused on their needs.  So I move on…but not without a scathing message to let them know why things have never worked out for them…

When they fall in love too quickly, that sends me running for the hills.  What I find most amusing is when they says things like,

“If we really hit it off, I have season tickets to XYZ, we’ll have a great time going….and I have a feeling that you’re the one for me….blah, blah, blah”

Code word:  Desperate.  Co-dependent.

Many men who have been married for long periods of time fall into this category.  They are accustomed to being part of a pair, and they are determined to recreate it.  Whether or not it’s a good fit, is secondary.  They want the person to “cuddle” with and have issues being alone.  This type bothers me most.  It’s set up for failure from the beginning and they never learn.  They are so focused on finding anyone to pair with, that they find themselves heartbroken over and over.  And they will never see that it’s their own damned fault.  I wish I could take the time to let them know why things never work out for them, but I don’t have the time nor the patience.  And they would see my assistance as a sign that we were “meant for each other”.  Geez….

So after I have determined that the person is none of those referenced above, I will continue correspondence.  And eventually we meet.  Sometimes it’s good.  We like each other. There is chemistry. 

Sometimes, it’s just not good. 

For me, the number one thing missing from online dating, the reason it’s so difficult to find the right fit via messages and phone calls…there is no accounting for presence. 

Do they stand tall and confident? Or are they slumped and broken?

Do they have a commanding way about them?  People talk “shit” all of the time.  You may think you’ve found the most Dominant man in the world by your conversations and messages. 

You meet for drinks and he is uneasy about getting the server’s attention when we need another drink.  No command at all.  No presence. 

For me, presence is by far the most important piece.  I am not fixated on what they look like.  I realize how quickly looks can change (I work in healthcare, I’ve seen some tragic things).  I am not particular about body-type, facial hair, height or anything superficial.  For me it’s about how they carry themselves.  How they present themselves. 

And they have to have a brain.  No scarecrows here.  I need an intelligent man.  One who can keep up in conversation and hold their own in intense discussions.  That is the ultimate aphrodisiac for me, cunning intelligence.  Sigh…

He’s out there somewhere.  The One. 

I’ll find Him somehow…I already have His song ready.  It’s simple and straightforward…

But I’m a man, yes I am
And I can’t help
But love you so

I got to keep my image
While suspended from a throne
That looks out upon a kingdom
Full of people all unknown

That’s what I’m talking about….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Making the Team

Congratulations are in order!

I made the team!

Coach Fifty pulled me off of the bench and played me today…

I haven’t mentioned Coach previously, have I?  You didn’t even realize I was athletic did you?

Coach Fifty:  I call him this as I see him beginning to morph from a dirty Vanilla type to a more exacting Dominant.  And since Fifty Shades is a bedtime story compared to my BDSM activities, we will call him Coach Fifty for now…the man is on his way.

So who is this Coach Fifty?

We met when we were both in a relationship crisis, and we were “there” for each other.  It’s been a reciprocal “friend with benefit thing” that’s lasted for about 10 years.  We don’t see each other often.  We are not in contact often, but we always come together when the time is right.

And the time was right…

We have been trying to get together for several weeks now.  Both of us are workaholics, so it makes it challenging.  But we managed to get our schedules aligned.  And no matter how well we plan, we always end up meeting in a very spontaneous manner:

11:05, Thursday morning

Coach:  Hey sexy.  Where are you?

Me: Just finishing up some reports.

Coach:  I may have to reschedule our time together today at 1:30.  Sorry babe

Me:  Really?  Again?  Okay.  I get it.  When are you thinking?

Coach:  How does NOW look for you?

Me: Now?

Coach:  Twenty minutes tops…Have the door unlocked.  And get yourself ready.  I am on the way.

I noticed a bit of bossiness in his text.  He had always been direct.  We had always been very honest and open with each other, but this had a different feel to it.

I liked it…

I heard him arrive.  He saw himself in and immediately came to me.  Coach has a way about him.  He always greets me by holding my face and planting a hot kiss on my lips to get the mood started.  But afterwards, he did something different.

He put his hands on my shoulders and gently eased me down to my knees.  And then he said in a deeper tone, “You know what to do”

I was immediately turned on by his new assertiveness.

He stroked my hair as I quickly went to work.  “That’s a good girl.”

He pulled me up and pulled my dress off in one fair swoop of his hands….

We moved to the bed and he eagerly reciprocated the work I’d done in the dining room.  And then he flipped me over on my stomach.

“You have been a bad girl, haven’t you?”  he growled.

I immediately went into my submissive self.  “Yes Sir I have”

“Well, I am not going to stand for that” he quipped.

And with that, he smacked my bare ass hard.  With an open hand.

Very good for a Vanilla amateur.

I realized as he continued to smack my ass…

I had created a monster.

Just the kind of monster I like

We continued playing.  He held a strong offensive line to my defensive strategies.  Overall he scored multiple touchdowns and always…always…always scored the “extra point”.

There were a couple of minor penalties.  In this game instead of causing a loss of field position, penalties were further punishment for me.

What a great game…

He definitely brought a solid showing on special teams….literally scoring on punt returns many times over.

Coach Fifty just ran all over me.  He is such a good player.

It seemed like a complete shutout, until at the end I was able to go off-sides and score the touchdown I needed to score on him.

And I even got a two-point conversion to close it out.

The Fifty in his name may have another meaning…as many points as he scored on me.

The game we played reminds me of a song: 

“Put me in Coach.  I’m ready to play.  Today”

And yes, the song is about baseball, not football.  Who cares which sport it’s about?

A good coach will always tell you the most important thing is “how you play the game.”

Well-played, Coach F.  Well-played.