Sunday, April 26, 2009

Sprung Spring

There's nothing like a beautiful, warm, sunny, April day to unleash my submissive side. I want a spring fling! From the very ends of my fingers to the tips of my toes I long to gaze stupidly into the gorgeous eyes of a dominant woman who thinks I'm cute and follow her everywhere, doing her bidding. This April day finds me still married, still living at home, and still enmeshed in the puzzle of how to sort out my life. So what am I to do with all this seasonal ardor?

No single domme in her right mind would get too close to me. I'm unavailable to be a boyfriend and worse yet, I'm in transition. It's completely unfair to invite a woman on a train trip which could end in a massive, tumultuous wreck. But does that stop me from fantasizing? No way, dude. I'm a guy and it's spring! So other than spring, what brings this on?

One of my favorite flirt friends of all time is leaving New York this weekend for good. That is if she can stand life west of the Hudson River. She of the Mah Wah Kiss is leaving me. She's the one that when I confessed my proclivities said, "You mean whips and chains?". While that really took some of the wind out of my kink-dreamer sails, more than anything she was a symbol. She's the woman who thinks I'm smart, sexy, and desireable. We are not entangled in each other's lives in any major way, but knowing her over these past years has really helped me own myself and my kink as pleasing and attractive. I will miss her alot.

So who am I going to meet for coffee, lunch, and dinner and flirt madly with?

Another woman friend may have the answer for me. She has also been one of my "crush girls". She's married now and very happy. She's also kinky. What particular brand, I'm not sure, but one Halloween when she was single she told me her costume was a nun's outfit over a corset, stockings, and stilletos. I mean, that's a whole sub-genre of role play on its own!! She tried to get her then boyfriend to wear a priest's collar and a raincoat with a diaper underneath. He was having none of it. I offered to reprise the role the following year. She just laughed. Suffice it to say she's knowledgeable and way kink friendly if not flat out dommy.

Anyway, this woman and I occasionally work together and I just came out and asked if she had any kinky women friends who might like to have dinner with me and flirt. She said she could probably hook me up!! Despite the seasonal juices flowing, I still think flirt friends are more important to me right now than hard core play or sessioning. One day I'm sure The Hunger, as my friend HMP defines the need to play, will return. But for now, a new flirt friend would be just the thing.

Who knows, maybe I'll see her on Mercer Street, getting on a motor bike, looking rather ladylike...

Monday, April 13, 2009

The Perfect Fetish Accessory

I'm a bit of a clothes horse, at least when it comes to work wear. Not a fashion victim, not a fop, and certainly not a dandy. I will, however, answer to dapper, pulled together, and well turned out. However, I am at a bit of a loss when thinking about an outfit for a fetish party. Not that I've ever been to a fetish party, mind you. Never been to a fetish party in my life. I do want to go, but the haunting question is what would I wear? Axe wrote recently about a guy's fetish dress for success dilema. For a guy like me, the trick is how to be different, yet classic.

While I have an outfit in mind, I think the perfect fetish accessory is the bow tie. Indeed, the venerable Wall Street Journal has come out and said the bow tie is cool and is making a comeback. That the WSJ is proclaiming a staple item of my workaday wardrobe to be cool may be reason enough to abandon it. But that aside, there are many reasons why I love a bow tie as part of a kink ensemble.

A bow tie is the perfect pervertable collar. You can wear it with a suit and look dashingly cool with that devil-may-care edge of nerdy chic. But shed your clothes and re-tie the bow around your neck and you have a colorful collar. I'm going to have the tailor at my local dry cleaner sew a D-ring into a black and blue bow and call it my perfect clandestine, pervertable fetish accessory. Tied tight and sure, a domme could drag me around a dungeon floor all night long on my self tied bow. During the day I could definitely wear this functional bow tie collar under a nice white shirt and pair it with a navy chalk stripe wool suit. The pervert just aches to break out of his besuited disguise.

As well, the bow tie bespeaks a throw back to a bygone era of service. Waiters, maitre'ds, old timey movie/theatre ushers all wore them. And they were real bow ties. Guys knew how to tie a bow. This skill evoked a certain masculine sartorial credibility, yet the whole bow tie thing is decidedly submissive. But no clip-ons, please. Club Fem, a lifestyle femme-domme group here in NYC, includes a leather bow tie as part of it's "uniform" for slaves. Sorry, but unless you're letting me tie my own, it's a deal breaker. A friend suggested I petition the group for a change in the rules and then offer workshops in the art of tying on a bow tie. Hmmmm ... we shall see.

I have a sixties vintage Sergeant Pepper-esque, drum major style tuxedo jacket in black and blue. I figure that, a black t-shirt, some rock 'n rolla black satin pants and a pair of ballet slippers would make a very nice fetish outfit. Top it off with my special clandestine bow tie collar and I'd be ready for anything.

There's just something wonderfully inspiring and classic about bringing a domme anything when wearing nothing but a bow tie - that I've tied myself. Diana Rigg as Emma Peel. Oh to bring her anything, wearing only a bow tie

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Sex, Lies, and Submission

I just got done listening to Axe's "Masocast" with his friend Ayla. I'm hoping Axe and I can get together soon to tape our own thing. At the very least it will help him dispell the notion that he's only doing the interview thing to chat up dominant women. Sub-cred...that's what I'm offerin' Axe, sub-cred.

Anyway, Ayla sounded really super smart and very thoughtful as she talked about prodomming, meeting submissive men to play with, dealing with trolls and having a public orgasm. Yeowww! Most powerfully for me she provoked reflection early in the interview as she talked about the reasons why she gave up prodomming. Her number one reason was that she felt complicit in the lies of her married clients to their wives and children. She admitted to being totally judgemental about married submissive men who sessioned, served and were collared to prodommes in secret. This maso-inspired mendacity caused very real disdain. If a client asked for "humiliation" from the menu, she let him have it - right between the ... eh ... eyes. "What would your wife think if she saw you now?, she'd snarl."

Whether it is "cheating" to lie to your wife about seeing a prodomme has been talked to death on various boards. The subject inspires intense debate. I think it is flat out cheating but I nevertheless did it for almost 30 years. My wife does not know about "She-Who-Visits", this blog, my life on the Max Board, or any of my kinky friends. But I as I listened to Ayla, it really struck me that her guilt was the flip side of my, as Crimson said, pejorative treatment of "client".

For so many men who have deep urges to submit to a dominant woman, but whose life circumstance won't allow that urge to be a relatively open one, prodommes present a positive and healthy outlet. I can't imagine what I would have done with my overwhelming urges if I hadn't been able to session with the dommes I've seen. Ultimately, because I met an incredible prodomme who respected my marriage and protected hers as well, I was able to shed an awful lot of my legacy of shame and become proud to be a submissive man.** The question is, what does one do with all that newfound "subbie-pride".

Tara Sterling wrote me a wonderful email entitled "Phases, Transitions, Cycles" in which she urged me to go with the flow and not analyze too much. Such wonderful advice. I fear, however, that my current "phase" is one of reflection and rumination. But maybe both Ayla and I should just lighten up and go with the flow.

It's spring. There are flowers to smell, sunshine to chase and open toed sling backs to endlessly oogle. Hey, if it makes us happy, then why the hell are we so sad?

**The re-read sounds a little like client = legacy of shame. That's just me, not all or necessarily even most clients.