Mistress Lilyana

What I learned in 2011

2011-12-30T06:00:00.000-08:00

2011 was my hottest year yet. Hear is what I learned over the past twelve very hot months:

I enjoy watersports. A lot.
I have a shy bladder.
Having a hot guy beg me to pee on him helps my shy bladder.
If a woman promises me she won't fuck a man in my life, I should just assume that she will.
While there is a growing and pervasive feeling in the kink community that male subs are devalued, my appreciation for them has grown.
When I'm with the right guy I can orgasm from a bite, breath, even from a look and a nod.
I love being fisted and I'm not afraid to say it.
I thought I wouldn't like using a gag because I enjoy a subs reactions so much but as it turns out, gags are SO much fun.
I love making someone choke on cock. It doesn't matter if I'm pushing a hot girl's head down on a guy's cock or if I'm face fucking a boy with my strap on, I just love it.
People feel compelled to tell me their dirtiest, nastiest fantasies. And realities.
Nothing cheers me up quite like erotica written just for me by the writer.
Nothing makes me hotter than a sub's reactions to me, including fear and anxiety.
There is something about a boy on his back, holding his thighs up and open for me begging for my cock that makes me smile.
I can do monogamy.
Wearing a man's shirt can be sexier than lingerie. Particularly with a strap-on.
Just about everything is better with rope. Except when it's not.
I should probably not date vanilla guys.
Top space is an amazing drug.
I'm becoming more and more comfortable with not being in charge all of the time and sometimes really enjoy connecting without D/s.
My instincts in regards to play and reading my sub are better nearly perfect and certainly better than my instincts in most other areas of my life.
Sharing is my favorite thing.

Sharing

2011-12-24T13:20:00.000-08:00

For me, a big part of the beauty of the ownership aspect of D/s is that I can share what is mine with others.

I share my sub and it makes me hot to do so.

The first time I shared a sub, it was with two female friends I had brought to his home. We spent an afternoon frolicking naked in his pool, drinking his booze and eating the delicious food he'd prepared and served us while wearing ridiculously frilly panties. Later, he served us an amazing seated dinner while he knelt and ate from dog bowls in the floor. Light play ensued after dinner and although I don't remember all of the details, I do recall at one point of the evening holding his face in my hands so I could watch his expressions as one friend spanked him and played with his ass while she was getting fucked by my other friend wearing my strap on.

Yeah, my friends are pretty awesome like that.

The next time I shared a sub, it was as part of a five hour scene where I allowed a Dom, a male Top and a female Top to play with my female sub. I wanted to physically and emotionally exhaust her and we certainly did. It started with the Dom forcing his cock down her throat while I watched, totally wet, and ended with the female Top and I dp'ing her while the male Top watched. She was blindfolded the entire time, tied up for a large part of the time and deprived of her sense of hearing for most of the scene. She was my toy and I shared her for use and abuse by my friends.

Then, during another debaucherous evening where everyone was naked and I had a female and a male sub there, I decided I wanted nothing more than to watch him to go down on her. I wanted to watch my female sub enjoying the skilled mouth of my male sub, the mouth I knew so well on the delicious pussy I knew so well.

I suggested it, "I'd so enjoy watching you go down on her."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"That would be hot," he said a little nervously.

When he didn't jump right on the opportunity, I tried working it from another angle, "You should really let him lick you. He's the most talented oral I've ever had."

"Whatever you want, Mistress," she responded, always the good girl and particularly anxious to show obedience to me in front of others, particularly him.

But it still didn't happen until I raised my voice. Yeah, I had to yell. "GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW AND LICK HER PUSSY!!! Do NOT make me tell you again!"

She and I were in bed, enjoying each other's nakedness. She was laying in my lap looking up at me when he finally came and knelt between her legs. He looked up at me with the same, soft subby adoration in his eyes as she had in hers.

But he was hesitant still. "Do it," I said sternly.

He started kissing her thighs, eyes locked with mine, while I played with her hair. "Oh Mistress," she moaned as he progressed. Watching him eat her pussy while he maintained eye contact with me, her squirming and moaning in my lap, was so amazingly hot. I could have watched that for hours.

I watched her excitement build and then ebb, her moans fading into sighs, over and over again. She wasn't cumming and I couldn't understand why. I knew from personal experience that he definitely had the skills to make her cum.

And then as I watched her sigh as she slipped from the precipice of orgasm again, I realized what was going on.

"Oh my God! You're edging her, aren't you?"

His mouth left her wet pussy long enough to tell me no and his eyes cut the his right telling me he was lying and that he wanted me to know that.

"YOU LITTLE SHIT. You're edging her!" I laughed. He knew he wasn't allowed to edge me and he was taking it out on her, the other sub in the room who had been arrogantly competitive with him all evening trying to prove she was a better sub than he. And he was winning.

I shared him again at a big party. It started with a very hot little femsub friend of mine almost shivering after a scene she'd had. I pushed her into his arms and told him to warm her up. I ignored his questioning look as he dutifully wrapped his arms around her and I went to find a blanket for us all. The ensuing snuggling turned into groping and pretty soon I was directing him to go down on her while I made out with her and played with her breasts. Right in the middle of the living room of the very large party.

I loved watching him lick her in all of the ways I enjoyed so much. I loved that he made her moan and gasp into my mouth as I kissed her. I loved that we were working together to get her to cum in a fairly public place. I loved sharing him with her.

The last time I shared him, it was in a very very hot threesome with a fairly kinky girlfriend. It began with me showing her how to do a little light CBT. She was a quick learner and clearly a little sadistic.

"Can I slap his face?" she asked me gleefully. She knew what he's into. And I let her. And it was hot.

We ended up in a pile of nakedness that evolved into a nearly traditional threesome with everyone licking, sucking and fucking everyone else. My strap-on made an appearance, at his suggestion, and he couldn't decide which was hotter - me fucking her with it or me getting fucked with it. It was a perfect threesome where no one felt left out. There was no jealousy. Just hotness. Mega hotness.

I've learned that I'm definitely a voyeur. Watching someone that serves me pleasing someone else at my command is even hotter than them serving me directly.

In every instance I've shared a sub with my friends, there's been a sense of pride in doing so. That they are mine to share is a concept that is off the charts for hotness.

Truly thankful

2011-11-24T12:36:00.001-08:00

On this Thanksgiving Day, I'd like to take a moment to express my gratitude and sincere appreciation for submissive men.

I am truly thankful for submissive men. You are the yin to my yang. Without your desire to submit, I am nothing but an aggressive, kinky bitch with a well stocked bag of sex toys.

I am continually amazed by your strength and courage to relinquish control. I am flattered when you kneel before me and lay your power at my feet. I live for the moments when you set aside your masculinity and own desires to amuse and entertain me just because I ask. You undo me when you melt at my touch, sensual AND sadistic. I love your every reaction to my actions - the gasps, groans and growls, the trembling and wincing - even the way you look at me when you're immersed in subspace.

And I'm entranced by the grace with which you do it all.

Entranced, aroused and truly thankful.

The Top Lilyana (and nodder) Posts of 2011

2011-11-15T21:34:00.001-08:00

I'm super excited to have made the list for Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2011. I moved up to number 17 from last year's number 30 spot! I'm humbled to find myself in the company of some of my favorite sex bloggers - Dominants AND submissives - whose work I follow and admire. Congratulations to them and everyone else who made the list!

I called nodder when I found out I'd made the list. He congratulated me. Then congratulated himself. We both laughed.

Actually, nodder does deserve some credit. Most of my blogs over the past year have been about him.

But you won't see any more about nodder.

He's still around. And we're still, on occasion, creating blog-worthy scenes together. But I will no longer be writing about our deliciousness. That'll be just between nodder and me.

If you are new to my blog, or if you've missed any of the hot posts about our play, here is your opportunity to catch up. The following are (in my opinion) my hottest posts about playing with nodder:

- On planning and satisfying cravings
- 'Saving myself' or 'Maybe I'm not as sadistic as I thought'
- Peeing on nodder

- With a nod

- Everything is better with rope

- Foot fucker

He kissed me

2011-11-15T18:33:00.001-08:00

Last week I detailed my first date with a vanilla boy who was too scared to kiss me. Since that night, he's been amazingly cute with his plotting and planning for our second date last night. And of course I haven't missed an opportunity to tease him about missing the opportunity to kiss me.

When I pulled into the parking lot of the trendy restaurant where he'd made reservations last night, he had also just arrived. He barely waited for me to get out of the car before he kissed me.

I couldn't stop grinning.

As we chatted over our dinner menus, I had begun to think that perhaps he was just anxious on our first date. That he'd let anxiety keep him from kissing me.

And then the waitress asked if we were ready to order. "It's up to her. She's in charge," he told her, nodding to me.

I couldn't help smirking when he said that. Or later when he said, "You're the boss."

In fact, throughout the evening he gave me multiple cues that he was more than ok with me taking the lead. I didn't take charge. Not really. But I could have.

Maybe it's time for me to tell him.

Mistressness (and lack thereof)

2011-11-13T20:37:00.001-08:00

I'm in a really amazing place in my life right now. I'm very very content.

I've figured out who my real friends are and I'm working to cultivate those relationships. My new job is going great and I'm really enjoying the people I work with and this new challenging chapter of my career. Relationship-wise there are a few people in my life but none are serious. And I feel really ok with the lack of pressure that not being in a relationship provides.

I feel more content with my life than I have in years.

So imagine my surprise to find myself in weird place in regards to D/s lately. I have been feeling a distinct lack of Mistressness.

I've been having some amazing vanilla sex with a sub, but we haven't been playing. It's not that I haven't had the desire to bring D/s into the things we've been doing. It just hasn't felt right. And of course our sex is more than just a little bit kinky. But I wouldn't call it playing. I'd call it deliciously vanilla. And I have been more than just a little bit happy with that.

Bon-bon has not been at my disposal for playing much lately. Perhaps it was because I was getting laid in the traditional sense but I hadn't been really really craving play until about two weeks ago. Luckily, that was at about the time when bon-bon's schedule enabled him to spend some quality time with me. And by quality time I mean time bent over the arm of my sofa.

Ok maybe I had not TOTALLY lost my D/s desires.

As much as I enjoyed bending bon-bon over, something just still wasn't right. I felt it even with my long distance subs. Or rather, I just wasn't feeling it. The writer has been amazingly patient and has continued to crank out my personalized erotica, but I haven't had the desire to play with him, not even to give him an assignment.

Part of it is time. My new job means I'm spending more time in the office and less time planning pervy endeavors. But it's been something else, too. Something I haven't been able to put my finger on.

What I've found interesting about it all is that even though I haven't felt very Mistress-y lately, I've still been amazingly happy. Super content with my life. I guess I've thought that D/s has been such a big part of my life that I needed it to be happy. As it turns out, I don't need it.

But I want it. Mmmm do I want it!

Whatever it was, it's over. I found it again. Last night I played with bon-bon and it was amazing. AHH MAZING. I felt great. In control.

She's BACK. And chock full of Mistressness!

Scaring vanilla boys

2011-11-08T22:46:00.000-08:00

I had a very vanilla first date tonight with a very vanilla guy. Barbecue and shopping. It was lovely in a very vanilla way.

"You should have just kissed me," I texted him after we parted ways. I knew he'd wanted to kiss me. He'd hugged me twice. We had a couple of minutes of awkward goodbye conversation. He'd looked at me like THAT.

"I know. Too awkward for my own good. Opportunity missed. I had a nice time though. Thanks for that."

"I had a good time too. And don't worry. You will have another shot at it if you want it."

"That does sound very enticing. I'm going to take you up on that!"

Could I have ended the awkwardness and kissed him tonight? Absolutely. But then that would have ended my fun.

No, he doesn't know I'm kinky. He doesn't know I'm Dominant. Doesn't know anything about my dark side. And I'm sure he has no clue how much I enjoyed his discomfort tonight. How I grinned for nearly 30 minutes afterwards as I recalled his anxiety.

I could have kissed him. I could have ended his misery. I didn't. I was enjoying it way too much.

The deliciousness of being a scary bitch

2011-10-30T21:53:00.000-07:00

The first time I met bon-bon, we lingered for a couple of hours over cocktails before I put him in my rope cuffs and had him kneel for me. He trembled as he knelt. And it was delicious.

The first time we really played, I tied him spread eagle to his bed. I knew he was a novice with rope so I didn't stretch him taunt across his bed. I left a little play in the rope so he didn't feel so restricted. He was visibly anxious. His looked at each wrist with concern until I blindfolded him but his breath remained rapid. And it was delicious.

We've played nearly every week since and even now, four months later, he still gets nervous around me.

And it is still delicious.

But it is surprising to me.

I'm not a scary bitch. I'm really not. I'm often told I'm "way too nice to be a Domme" by those who have never played with me. Well, by those who haven't played with me or read my blog.

I don't scream or yell when I play. My sadism is usually wrapped in such sensuality, you don't see it coming. I'm usually dressed in something rather classic, never in scary Domme attire.

Still, I'm a Domme and I suppose if you didn't know me well, you'd assume I'm scary.

The thing is, bon-bon DOES know me well. He's had four months to get to know me. And he's still a little scared of me.

Two weeks ago I had bon-bon come over to hook up some electronics. He was all business in deciding what needed to be done and concluded I needed some additional hardware. Yippee! A trip to hardware store!

On our way, we stopped at the liquor store for wine. We made a selection and then as I was browsing, I heard him asking for the small bottle of Patron.

Back in the car even before I had my seat belt buckled, bon-bon had opened the Patron. I laughed. I made a comment about him not even being able to wait until we got back to my house.

"You make me nervous."

"What?? Really??"

"Yes," he said taking a shot. "You always make me anxious."

And though I was astounded I have the power to make him nervous four months later, I'm pretty sure this scary bitch was instantly wet.

In honor of International Fisting Day

2011-10-19T21:36:00.000-07:00

Friday, October 21 is International Fisting Day. And in honor of this occasion, I thought I'd blog about fisting.

I'm a big fan of fisting. That probably comes as no surprise to you, I'm sure. Fisting has long been seen as a Dominant action. And now you're picturing me gloved and lubed with my hand up some guy's ass, right? In some hot girl's vagina?

As lovely as that visual is, it's not what gets my juices flowing when I hear the word "fist."

I enjoy being fisted.

Yep, I said it. I admit it. I love that feeling of being full beyond belief. Feeling stretched. Love it. Love love love it!

I've always had a thing for guys with sexy hands. Nice, well shaped, strong hands. It's one of the first things I check out when I meet a guy. And sometimes, when he has really nice hands, it's enough to dampen my panties.

Well, if I wore panties, that is.

I'm not sure at what point the distraction of a man's hands turned into fantasizing about how they'd feel in my vagina, but it did. And it continues to happen more than I'd like admit.

My first experience with fisting was with an ex-girlfriend. We were fooling around and at some point amongst the OH MY GODs she told me she had her hand inside me. Later, she proudly showed me how she was wet up past her wrist. We hadn't used any lube.

She was amazed at how hot it was. I was amazed she'd gotten her whole hand inside me. She wanted to get a tattoo of auburn curls (like my own hair) encircling her wrist to commemorate the occasion. I wanted more.

But I'd have to wait. My first fisting was literally days before I took on my first sub. After that, the vanilla guys I dated were few and far between and I never trusted them enough to try it with them. And I surely wasn't about to let a submissive fist me.

Once upon a time I cared about things like that. I refused to engage in some activities I enjoyed for fear that someone might find them, and my interest in them, submissive. I cared more about my perceived dominance that my own enjoyment.

And then I realize that's ridiculous. So what if I like being fisted? Guess what. Even when a guy has his hand in my vagina, I'm still calling the shots. I'm still very much in charge.

I'd let a couple of Dom boyfriends fist me since my first time. Not as part of any D/s scene, of course. Just two equals in bed having fun. But I hadn't let a submissive fist me until a few months ago.

As with any type of fisting, trust is always a factor. I wouldn't dare engage in fisting with someone I didn't know with 100% certainty was going to follow my instructions to the letter.

So I let my sub fist me. And it was great. I let him do it a few times.

One time I even wrote about it. Only I didn't. I wrote AROUND it. I said he ate my pussy and he did. I just omitted the part where he stuck his whole hand inside me.

"Oh yeah, I read your blog."

"Yeah? Did you like it?"

"You're a liar."

"What???"

"You didn't mention the part where I fisted you."

It's true. I didn't. Creative license? No, that's not why I omitted it. Quite frankly, it wasn't relevant to the post.

But because this Friday is International Fisting Day, it's relevant. And so now I'm sharing.

He fisted me on the patio table as I lay naked under the stars. And it was hot.

He says that when he tries to insert his hand, when he TRIES to fist me, it never works. But if I relax and push onto his hand, I can take it every time. And enjoy it. Immensely.

Call fisting a Dominant thing if you want. Go ahead and think being the recipient means you're submitting. If it's something I enjoy and want to do, I'm going to do it and I don't give a shit what you think about it.

Fisting is about trust. Fisting is about control. It's just not always about domination in the way you might think.

Happy Fisting Day!

The repulsive things that make your cock hard

2011-09-20T07:19:00.000-07:00

People tell me their wildest fantasies. They also tell me all about the crazy, naughty, twisted things they've done.

Did you know most straight men have tranny fantasies? Know how I know? They tell me.

I know a guy whose Domme made him masturbate farm animals. And a female sub whose Domme made her submit to a dog. Yes, it was truly doggie style.

I could go on but you get the picture. People do some crazy, sick shit and they tell me about it.

What is it about me that makes people want to tell me things? Well, I am open minded and I don't judge.

Except when it comes to children. I want to hurt child molesters in not fun ways. That's not even an acceptable fantasy in my book.

But other than anything involving children, I don't judge. Does it mean I am going to encourage my sub to have close personal relations with animals? Hell no.

Might have a straight male sub jerk off a tranny though.

Kidding.

Ok not really.

But my point is, people tell me crazy shit because they know I won't judge them.

Recently someone I'm close to told me he'd done something very very naughty.
"Lilyana, it's SICK and yet as I'm sitting here talking to you about it, I'm ROCK HARD."

He's been in the lifestyle a long, long time. And like anyone who is kinky, he's upped the ante over time. He's progressively gotten kinkier.

I think we all do that. We kinksters love the high we get from our naughty play. And we're always seeking the next biggest thing - the next big high. So we try new things. And usually each new thing is naughtier than the last.

A lot of times the naughty things are taboo. And sometimes the fact that it's taboo is more of a turn on than the act itself.

I REALLY enjoy getting into someone's head and discovering what turns then on and why. I've learned to poke around in a submissive's brain and figure out their trigger points so I can use them to bend him to my will.

So I used my working knowledge of sexual deviant psychology to help my friend. He was VERY perplexed at how he could be aroused by talking about something so repulsive.

"It's very taboo," I reminded him. "You're kinky. You're turned on by things that most normal people find taboo."

"But the idea of it, Lilyana, it's not hot, it's sick. So why am I hard just telling you about it?"

I explained that it wasn't what had happened that was arousing to him. It was the fact that what had occurred was so taboo - THAT is why his cock was hard.

As soon as I said it, he knew it was true and he felt better about it.

We can't control what arouses us and sometimes what arouses us is something that also repulses us. This was the case for my friend.

What we CAN control is whether or not we act on what arouses us. We are not slaves to our horniess (although sometimes it might seem that way).

I think now that my friend knows WHY he was aroused - because the act was taboo, not because the act itself was hot - he can move on to something else he doesn't also find quite so distasteful. He can move on to another kinky high.

As a true friend compelled to help him, perhaps I should do something that will distract him - to get his mind off of things.

Tranny handjob maybe?

No gay hand job porn

2011-09-13T11:43:00.000-07:00

Bon-bon had a Domme who was a psychologist by profession. I've yet to discover to what extent she played mind games with him but I did find out something last night that I wasn't happy about.

She used to make him watch gay porn, specifically gay oral and gay handjob porn. While he jacked off.

Bon-bon explains this to me as we're discussing forced bi.

"My former Domme loved the idea of me sucking some guys cock."

"Hehe of course she did. It's the ultimate humiliation AND it's guy on guy (if you're into that)."

"She'd always try to train me psychologically ... make me find you gay blow job and hand job videos ... used to make me watch them while she made me stroke my cock."

"Understand this: I don't want you to want to do it. Maybe she did but the hotness for me is that you do it to please me, not because you've been trained to enjoy the idea. She was training you to be aroused at the idea of guy on guy action. If you're aroused, it's no longer forced."

"She was just trying her best to break me."

"Oh I understand where she was going with it, totally."

Not only do I understand it, I can see the allure. But the beautiful, exciting part about forced bi for me is not seeing two guys getting it on. That is not a huge turn on for me. It's that a man will set aside one of the things that he treasures most, his heterosexuality, to amuse and entertain me just because I ask.

As a huge fan and avid practitioner of erotic humiliation, I feel like forced bi is pretty much the ultimate in humiliation. Unless the guy LIKES it. Or WANTS it.And I'm not talking about enjoying it or desiring it because he loves/hates the humiliation aspect. Or because he wants to please his Domme. I'm talking about the kind of guy who is aroused by the act itself outside of the humiliation and service aspects.

The kind of guy his former Domme was trying to train him to become.

And while I understand the allure of this kind of psychological training, I don't want to do it. When a guy sucks cock for me, I want to bask in his humiliation. I want him to want to suck cock because it pleases and amuses me, not because he's been trained to crave the taste cock on his tongue.

Later in our very hot conversation ...

"I need to go to bed and jerk off. You have me ready to explode."

"No cumming. Touch yourself all you want but your next orgasm is mine and that means you wait."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Good boy. I, on the other hand, may just go have a handful while I think about you aching to cum."

"Yes Ma'am. I'll watch some gay hand job porn ... LOL."

"NO. Absolutely not!! No gay hand job porn!"

Untouchable - by the writer

2011-08-28T15:15:00.000-07:00

My long distance sub, the writer, has been sending me reports each morning for the three weeks he's been chaste for me. They are too hot not to share so I asked him to create a blog post from a couple of them over the past week since I added an interesting twist into his period of chastity.

Last night, before going to bed, I saw a pair of panties -- my panties -- on the drying rack and a butt plug on the tub where I'd placed them to dry. I smiled before putting both away. They are now very potent symbols, each of them, far beyond the particular acts for which they were used.

It's amazing to me that it was only last weekend when I was wearing the panties and did not text Lilyana after the woman with whom I had a date showed up looking so deliberately sexy. At the time, I thought that the reason I didn’t call and ask her permission to at least make out with my date was because I couldn’t envision how I could get the panties off without her knowing. But then, I realized that this wasn’t true. I hadn’t texted because I had come to the point where I would rather play with Lilyana than have sex with a very attractive woman.

That was a turning point, a scary one.

I haven't regretted it for a moment.

Today is my three-week chastity anniversary, and I am, of course, aching. Woke up with a raging hard-on, as to be expected. Tomorrow will be my week anniversary of total cock denial, something I never anticipated.

Until this Monday, I was occasionally allowed to ask her if I could edge. Sometimes my request was granted. Sometimes it was not. The simple act of having to ask was thrilling. I felt completely and utterly controlled.

I had begun to drip uncontrollably. The last time she placed me in chastity, it lasted five weeks. I have no idea whether this will be as long, longer, or shorter. My desire to cum simply grows and binds me closer to her.

Last Sunday (was it really only I week ago?), I asked if I could touch my cock. Her first answer was “no,” and I took a deep breath. Then she changed her mind.

Having no idea what was in store, I gave myself a few reassuring squeezes. A stroke or two. I didn’t bother to edge. I felt warm and comfortable and cared for.

The next morning I was told that I was no longer to have any contact with my cock at all. That I was to sit to pee, that I had to blot my cock head with toilet paper rather than shake off the last drop. To both our surprise, this turned out to be the most humiliating part of the exercise. Something about carefully holding the paper so that only it touched me, about not being allowed my life-long male shake, shamed me.

The only time I was allowed to have any contact with my cock was in the shower. Two seconds to moisten, three to soap up, and four to rinse off. Then I was to allow it to air dry. No stroke of the towel. I had to change my position in the shower so that the water did not hit my cock at any other time. Instead of washing front and back, I now washed side to side. I shampooed with my back to the shower head at all times.

And starting last Monday, that was all that I was allowed.

That was it. No nipple torture. No ass play. No edging, of course.

I began to experience a form of control that lies far outside any fantasy I have ever had. It’s not the same as having my cock locked. The cage bondage, a form of alternative pleasure; this denial is pure submission and very humiliating at that.

I never imagined, when I began this, how much I would have to confront:

Confessing that I would rather be denied than fuck took all my courage. But there it is. I can never return to the point before I admitted this to her and to myself.

I've also had to confront my secondary status.

It's one thing to be cucked. It's one thing to understand that there are things that simply cannot be done long distance. It's another to have to know that Lilyana’s other subs get to experience things that she could have me do and that she chooses not to. This is excruciating. As a secondary I must accept that others will not only receive more pleasure but also more pain than I.

Not as hard is the lesson I've been given in the difference between envy and jealousy. I am deeply envious of her subs’ physical play. I am not jealous in the least. I want her to have all the pleasure in the world, and I want her to have a great emotional connection with those with whom she plays. Nothing she does with them diminishes anything she does with me. Yes, the details add to my torment, but then, that torment is at the core of our play.

Along with this, I've had to come to learn about acceptance as a really essential part of submission. I accept the torment that comes with denial because it pleases her. I even report the torment in detail knowing that it only encourages her to keep me this way. Acceptance is no longer theoretical. It is something I live with constantly.

And then there was what happened a few days ago, when I was going crazy with denial. I was going to beg her for sensation. For pain on my nipples. For a chance to fuck my ass. For the feeling of the new panties I had bought for her against my skin.

But since she had not given me permission to beg, I kept these desires to myself.

And then, an hour later, she told me to plug myself.

She had known what I needed without my having to say a word.

I spent three hours with a plug in my ass, texting with her the entire time, precum dripping from my cock. I heard stories of things she had done with others.

And when it ended, I admitted to her that it was as good as any vanilla fuck I had ever had. I felt wholly and completely satisfied. The afterglow lasted well into the next morning.

The implications of this are huge. Lilyana knows from my stories that I've fantasized about being permanently denied penetration.

I love to fuck. Love the warmth and wetness of a woman when I am inside her. Love the smell of her on my cock the next morning.

She knows this, of course. But after this weekend, she also knows that it would be possible for me to give this up and not just for a few weeks. I know it as well. And it makes me so very afraid.

When I put the butt plug and the panties away last night, the reality washed over me.

In three weeks, I have become fuckless and secondary, my cock reduced to plumbing.

I am so submissively grateful.

Snortgasm

2011-08-20T16:50:00.000-07:00

Ever laugh so hard you snort? Well, a snortgasm is like that ... But for an orgasm.

A snort is definitely not as sexy as the sounds women typically make when they orgasm. But then again, I'm not your typical woman.

In fact, I don't typically make much noise at all when I cum. That's because I hold my breath.

Self inflicted breath control? Mini auto asphyxiation? I honestly can't be sure. It's just something I started doing three years ago. And it was at that point I also became super orgasmic.

Coincidence? Maybe. But my orgasmicness is best left for discussion in another blog.

THIS blog is about the snortgasm.

I was fucking him, or rather he was fucking me, when I came on his cock HARD. It was one of those beautifully hot yet intimate moments where we were holding each other tight, our chins nestled in each other's necks.

When an orgasm is particularly long, I tend to hold my breath for a while and then take a quick breath before holding it again. I may do this three of four times for a particularly lengthy orgasm.

During this particular orgasm, during the second or third gulp of air, I snorted.

I snorted as I came at about the same time he came.

"Did I just snort??"

"Yes you did."

I laughed, "I can't believe I snorted while I was cumming. It was a snortgasm."

And the snortgasm was born.

A snortgasm is much like the snort that occasionally occurs when you laugh very hard in a carefree way. Ok, like when *I* laugh in a carefree way anyway.

When someone says something funny enough to make me snort when I laugh, I call it "snortworthy."

However, even now that I've experienced the snortgasm, I don't think I'll be calling orgasms "snortworthy." There's something not quite right about that.

Maybe I'm just greedy

2011-08-14T17:59:00.000-07:00

I'm polyamorous. I'm a Domme. But I don't want MY sub submitting to another Domme while he's submitting to me.

Maybe that means I'm not poly. Maybe I'm just greedy.

I've previously considered and given permission to a sub to date others while we were together. It was permission with conditions, sure. I'm the Dominant and I have that right.

I believe that being poly means you're ok with your partners being involved with others. And I am. I've been involved with other people who are poly and I've also been involved with non-polys who were seeing others while we were together. And I was REALLY ok with it.

I just don't want someone who is submitting to me on a regular basis submitting to anyone else.

Is it a double standard? Yes. Because even though I've never had multiple serious subs at once, I often have more than one sub that I'm considering and/or playing with.

No, what's good for the Goose isn't good for the gander.

D/s is the difference. It's not just sex. It's not even sex and dating. It's a much more special connection.

There's an ownership element to D/s that throws my being poly all off kilter. There's a feeling of MINE I have with subs, even former subs, that I never had when I was monogamous, even when I was married.

And when I think of a sub of mine kneeling for another Domme, I feel a little sick. I believe that's something special he should only share with me. Date someone else, fuck someone else, but no, I'm not ok with you submitting to someone else.

I don't think that's wrong either. But then again, maybe I'm just greedy.

Defiance

2011-08-10T23:13:00.000-07:00

Nodder's panties.

"I brought you something," I announced as I pulled things from my overnight bag.

"Oh yeah?" nodder asked.

I tossed "his" panties on the bed.

"I don't need those," nodder said.

"Yes you do. Put them on." Nodder isn't into cross dressing but he is a whore for humiliation and has a love/hate relationship with his polka dot beribboned panties.

He picked them up and tossed them across the bed. "No thanks."

"No?" I was incredulous. Nodder doesn't tell me no. Not when it comes to play. "What do you mean, NO?"

"I mean, I'm not going to put on panties."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not. You don't really want me to anyway."

I laughed. "YES, I really do."

"No, you really don't. You just think that that's what I want you to make me do right now but that's not what you really want," he explained. And then he leaned over and kissed me and all thoughts left my head except one: he might be right.

I tried to insist he put on the panties anyway, to reestablish control of the situation. He called me out on it. "That's not really what you want right now. I can tell. Come on now, I've known you for 11 months and I know what you want."

And then I did something I almost never do. I blushed.

The rest of the evening unfolded in a way that proved him right. As much as I enjoy control and his reactions when I dominate him, it wasn't a scene I wanted. I wanted to connect without D/s.

We ended up outside on his patio, naked, with me laying on the table looking up at the stars while he ate my pussy. The view of the Las Vegas strip was beautiful, the air was warm and comforting and his skilled tongue made me forget his defiance, made me forget everything. I lost myself in the sensations and we weren't Mistress and sub. We weren't ex boyfriend and ex girlfriend. We just were.

Actually, I supposed that isn't true. As I write this I am realizing that nodder's defiance could be viewed as service to me. After all, he was serving my true desires. Even when I didn't know them yet.

Hoping to make "The List" again

2011-08-05T21:28:00.000-07:00

I started this blog as an outlet for my perviness and I'm flattered that so many have enjoyed my musings. Based on your feedback, I've learned that I've aroused, intrigued, amused and even occasionally educated. Reader feedback continues to make me smile.

And being recognized by my peers on the list for the Top Sex Bloggers of 2010, was definitely one of the highlights of 2010 for me. Of course I'd love to make the list for 2011.

I'm not going to go all bitchy Domme on you and demand you nominate me. Or beg for your nomination.

But if you enjoy my blog, I'd love it if you'd take a moment and nominate me for the 2011 list here.

Intensity

2011-08-05T20:38:00.000-07:00

I should have known that things were different when nodder put his arms around me from behind and kissed my neck while I was making dinner. I wasn't just instantly wet, my whole body was engulfed in what I can only describe as a warm shiver.

I figured maybe it was just a familiarity thing. Sure, we hadn't seen each other in the five weeks since our breakup but you can't know someone intimately for 11 months, can't have played with them dozens of times, and not know the right buttons to push in just the right way to turn them on.

But then as we sat watching a movie snuggled on the sofa, my breath caressed nodder's wrist almost accidentally and made him moan in an unexpected way. I smiled with delight like a child who had just learned a great secret.

I KNEW things were different.

After a few weeks of no contact after our break up, nodder and I began to IM a little. Pretty quickly we'd resumed something that might just end up some type of dysfunctional friendship.

Neither of us took the decision to see each other in person again lightly. We discussed it thoroughly and ensured we were both clear about our expectations for our relationship. We agreed our romantic relationship had run its course and that we cannot have a future together but that we still cared about each other in ways we hope to weave into a friendship.

The expectations for our first evening together again were not as clear. There was no agenda, no plan. He came over with wine and I threw together some dinner that we ate while we watched a movie.

I figured it would be a low key evening that would set a precedence for our budding friendship. Some snuggling maybe.

I didn't dare think we'd be able to keep our hands off each other though. Even when things were rough between nodder and me, our chemistry was always considerable, particularly for play. I'd have been naïve to expect it to have disappeared just because we'd broken up.

Knowing we have no future together should have at least diminished it though right?

Nope.

There was an unmistakable new intensity between us. Every kiss, every touch ... everything was electric in a way I'd never known with nodder.

I struggle even now to express how things were with nodder that night. It was raw and beautiful and something else I can't quite describe.

The only word I can come up with is intense. The foreplay, the play, the sex ... it was all so fucking intense.

I'm also struggling to understand why it was so intense. It wasn't make up sex because we're not getting back together. And it didn't have the celebratory flavor. Lack of "relationship" pressure? Eh, maybe. Sexual frustration and pent up passion? Nah.

His every reaction to every little thing I said or did told me he'd missed me. Maybe it was that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" bullshit.

I don't know and I don't really care. I loved playing with nodder before. And now with this new intensity it's like we've taken things to another level.

A bowl for my cherries

2011-07-21T11:59:00.000-07:00

I've always had a thing for the way a guy's lower back is shaped when he's fit. The curves of muscle, the way they form valleys and troughs where they come together. Yum.

I had bon-bon on his knees on our first date. It's not something I do regularly. I don't typically play with a guy on the first date at all. But I wanted him on his knees and so he was. I'd put him in my rope cuffs and let my hands explore his chest and back, unbuttoning his shirt a bit at a time, teasing us both.

He's in great shape. Not ripped, but very fit and working towards ripped. My hands were very happy checking out the terrain - especially the valleys. And I found the well defined trough in his back intoxicating.
During our first play session, he'd spent most of his time tied to his bed. On his back.

In planning for our second session, I decided I wanted to combine two things I'm fascinated with: his lower back and objectification.

"You're going to be my snack tray," I told him.

And so he was. I had him lay face down across the ottoman and I placed some fruit and cheese in the bowl that his lower back formed.

Then I sat back, sipped my wine and admired the view.

But as lovely as the view was, after a few bites of cheese, a cherry and some grapes, I became a bit bored. That's when I grabbed my riding crop and discovered how nicely bon-bon welts. And how nicely he jumps when I smack his ass.

His reactions made me grin. So of course I smacked him again. And again and again.

He didn't stop flinching when I hit him and each time my crop came in contact with his ass, the fruit in his lower back came precariously close to spilling.

"Don't you dare spill my cherries," I instructed him.

"Yes Mistress," he responded.

When I had thoroughly reddened his ass and left some very nice welts, I removed my panties, leaned over him and whispered, "Do you have any idea how much I enjoy hurting you?"

And then I put my panties under his nose so he could smell just how excited his pain made me.
I used him as a foot stool as I masturbated and admired the view. I even drank wine from the divot in his lower back, lapping it ever so slowly.

He's doing a new workout routine, one he claims is rather intense. He promises it will yield six pack abs and ... a bigger bowl for my cherries.

Bondage, real or implied

2011-07-11T01:48:00.000-07:00

There are few things that are as hot as the site of a boy securely bound in my rope. Except maybe a girl. But I digress.

I love to see a boy splayed across a bed, tied tight to the bed by his wrists and ankles. Or bent over a table. Or really any furniture.

Aesthetically I enjoy the way his limbs look bound. The way the rope wraps around his wrists, his hands tightly fisted or slightly open and relaxed, depending on how sensual or sadistic the attention I'm giving him is at the time.

I'm a competent enough rigger to do some semi-extravagant shibari when I want, but I'm more likely to quickly lash a boy's wrists together over his head. It often gets the job done and puts him into the same head space the fancy rope work would anyway.

Plus I waste less time getting him immobile so I can have my way with him.

But as much as I love rope and the way a boy looks in it, sometimes I don't bother with it.

There is a beautiful phenomenon I've seen with subs that always makes me smile. I've always meant to blog about its hotness and today I shall.

I love how a sub will automatically position himself for bondage, real or implied, during a scene. It's like they beg for it.

If you've read Peeing on nodder, you'll know I tied his wrists before I put him in the bath tub and gave him his first golden shower. We did it a second time and I didn't write about it. I put him in the same tub in the same position without tying his wrists and he immediately raised his fists above his head as if he were bound.

So hot.

In my experience it's a fairly common phenomenon. When I climb on top of a sub, his hands seem to automatically go over his head as if he's begging for bondage, assuming he's bound or at least hoping I'll pin his wrists down with my hands.

It's one of those beautifully submissive responses that makes me want to simply devour him.

Transparency

2011-07-01T18:35:00.000-07:00

"You are quite the sexual lightning rod," bon-bon told me. We'd been discussing those who had expressed an interest in me lately. Hot women. And he's all for that by the way. But it always surprises me a little when female hotties want me. "You are. You emanate sexual energy. Wild sexual energy."

"Do I? Actually I have heard that before."

"Uh huh. I bet you have. It's quite pronounced."

"Even in college my best friend's boyfriend said that about me. 'Lilyana just oozes sex when she walks into the room.' I felt dirty in a not fun way after that."

"It's not an ooze."

I laughed.

"It's more like if we were hummingbirds, you'd be filled with red sugar syrup."

Then I REALLY laughed.

"The container is transparent. You know the sweet stuff is in there. You can see it, smell it, and if your smart enough to figure it out, there are points of access where you get rewarded by the sweet nectar."

Punishment and Porn

2011-06-26T22:46:00.000-07:00

I'm considering a new guy. We've very quickly become quite intrigued with each other, in fact. So much so that we're both thinking it's too good to be true.

Professionally our backgrounds are similar. Our kinks align well. We both want a long term relationship. He's successful and secure, totally the alpha male who likes to submit behind closed doors. My cup of tea.

I gave him a simple assignment: send me one picture of yourself every day before midnight. It can be sweet, funny or sexy.

Day 2 his picture came at 12:07 AM the day after it was due. I forbade him to look at my photos all day long as punishment. I knew he had them on his desktop and enjoyed looking at them frequently.

On day 3 he fell asleep and didn't send one at all.

*sigh*

I abhor punishing a sub. It's almost never fun for me.

If you've read the girl's blog entry called "The hottest moment," you'll know my punishments often mean my sub doesn't get to see me or communicate with me. Withdrawal of affection, as I call it.

Or it could be painful in a not fun way like when I made nodder kneel on rice in the corner while I lounged in lingerie ready to play just out of his sight.

One thing my punishments are not is fun. I don't spank a sub as punishment because generally speaking, on some level, they all like it. Even spanking is a form of attention.

As they say in regards to child development, negative attention is still attention. And trust me when I say that subs CAN be very much like bratty children.

Luckily I don't attract bratty subs. My subs serve me joyously without trying to manipulate me into play with bratty behavior that begs for punishment. Or rather FUNishment.

So imagine my shock to hear the new guy say in regards to missing two out of three assignment deadlines, "If I never did anything, wrong ... what fun would you have?"

I was aghast. I explained it all to him, my theory on punishment. I advised him when he gets spanked, it'll be because that's what I want to do, not because he's misbehaved.

I think he understands me now and I don't think he'll try to be bratty with me again but I was just stunned. And it made me wonder about his former Dommes too. Were they the kind of Dominants who suddenly jump into screaming bitchy Domme mode when it's time to play - the kind that play the role of a Domme and think bitchiness is required?

And then I began to watch some of the porn the guy has acquired over time. The answer was in the very first clip.

It was a foreign film, in what language I cannot recall. A man dressed in street clothes wearing a frilly apron was making something in the kitchen as a woman in stockings, heels, a thong and a sheer nighty watched, smoking. The man dropped something and the woman started screaming at him and pushing him around. In moments she had him undressed and fucking himself with a dildo stuck to the floor with a suction cup. She was still yelling at him.

The yelling abated as she donned her strap-on which she made him suck while he was fucking himself.

You get the picture. Hell, you've probably seen the clip or one just like it.

And suddenly I realized why he'd said, "If I never did anything, wrong ... what fun would you have?" He must have thought that maybe it was one way to get my attention, to engage me in play. To bring out my inner Domme.

Well guess what. Being Dominant is who I am. It's not a role that I play. It's not something bad behavior provokes. In fact, it's just the opposite.

Admittedly, I don't watch a lot of porn. Why? Because it frustrates me. Why? Because I don't play like they do in porn.

Playing with me in any capacity is a privilege. Sometimes it's even a reward. It's NEVER punishment.

I'm damn sure not going to reinforce bad behavior with cock sucking and ass fucking and call it punishment. I'd have the worst behaved subs and that's not ok with me.

Now, I do understand role play. I do. The naughty school girl gets spanked for bad behavior be someone playing a stern school teacher. That's not my thing but I get why people enjoy it. You get to be someone you're not.

But I'm not playing the role of Domme. It's who I am. I don't have to scream and be bitchy, wear leather and carry a whip. And I don't need your bad behavior as an excuse to make you suck my cock.

My boy, the bon-bon

2011-06-25T20:19:00.000-07:00

D/s relationship status: formerly play partners

Relationship status: friends

The bon-bon earned his nickname after nearly three months of being known as "the new guy." It was inspired by my friend and Domme, Akasha, who once referred to a very fit boy as a bondage bon-bon. He's amazingly fit for a guy of any age, particularly one in his late 40's, and has a very remarkable "bon-bon."

When we met in late June of 2011, bon-bon and I immediately connected in play as well as personally and professionally and really enjoyed getting to know each other better in each area.

Read blogs about bon-bon.

Mouthy

2011-06-22T22:55:00.000-07:00

I normally enjoy a mouthy sub, particularly one as witty as nodder. Not disrespectfully mouthy but talkative. I almost never impose speech restrictions.

I'd been talking about playing off and on all day but when nodder came to my house that night about a month ago, vanilla activities had prevailed. But I was starting to ache to play. Not from lack of orgasms. I'd had plenty of those. But my post orgasm bliss was starting to melt into a desire to play. Specifically for rope. For him in my rope.

I tied his ankles to his thighs in a frog tie, then his wrists in front of him and created a chest harness. Nodder chatted happily throughout my rigging.

Why he decided to start being a smart ass, I have no idea. He was thoroughly tied and wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't being disrespectful, just annoying.

"Oh my God you need to shut the fuck up."

He kept chatting.

"Seriously. Just stop talking."

I blindfolded him thinking losing his sight might quiet him.

It didn't.

I can't even remember what he was talking about but I was just done listening to him. I whipped out my duct tape and slapped a piece across his mouth. He opened his mouth in a yawn and loosened the tape so I added another piece.Then I taped him from his chin to the top of his head on both sides.

And he kept talking.

Then I grabbed another piece of rope, channeled my inner Lee Harrington and fashioned some face bondage designed to keep his jaw securely shut.

It worked. Peace and quiet.

I'd chosen to tie nodder as I had with the intent of engaging in some CBT and facesitting and I was not to be deterred simply because little of nodder's face was available for sitting. I knelt over him, my wetness just inches from his nose and watched his cock twitch. Slowly I lowered myself until his nose touched my slit. I felt him try to touch me the only way he could, nuzzling my pussy, and heard him groan in frustration.

I sat firmly on his face and reached for his cock. I stroked it gently, teasingly and waited. I waited for that moment the delicious struggle ensues.

I felt his head turn beneath me trying to find breath and I savored the struggle for a few seconds as his cock became impossibly hard before I lifted my weight off of him, laughing and giddy with power.

Again and again I sat on his face burying his nose in my pussy. I alternated between smacking and squeezing his cock painfully and teasing it with soft touches.

But the real torture was in the fact that he couldn't taste me. He could smell me and feel my wetness on his nose and cheeks but the duct tape and rope prevented more.

Truth be told, it was torture for me too. As much as I enjoy breath control and teasing, I enjoyed nodder's mouth more.

When I could take no more, I slipped the rope from his face and removed the duct tape. Before he could resume his chatter, I kissed him hard and then sat firmly upon his face again.

Like a good boy, his mouth went right to work. And he was mouthy in all the right ways.

The poster child for Secure Partners Only

2011-06-20T23:45:00.000-07:00

I knew it wouldn't work with nodder and me. I knew it. I knew it and I tried to have a relationship with him anyway.

It's funny what you'll do for love. Hell, I was even monogamous. Me, the woman who is always juggling at least three guys at once, I was monogamous.

Why? I loved him that much. I loved him more than I loved being the Lilyana who juggles men. I loved him enough to ease his worries by giving up other guys.

I gave up women too, by the way. I should get extra credit for that.

I knew as I made the decision to be monogamous with nodder, to give up any chance at relationships with others, exactly what I was doing. I knew it wasn't sustainable. I also knew, somewhere inside, that if nodder was the right guy for me, he'd have accepted me without me having to give up part of who I am.

But I did it. I gave up guys and girls. I gave up dating AND searching for new subs. I gave up any possibility to play with the girl and chewtoy. I gave up whatever it is/was developing between 6 and I lately. I even gave up my online play with the writer and cumboy.

I gave it up. I gave it all up. I shut down my vanilla dating site and collarme profiles and posted 'in a relationship' on FetLife. And I had no problem doing it. I loved him and I wanted to end his angst.

But I won't do it again. I won't.

I'm not talking about the monogamy part. True, I'm polyamorous, but I can be monogamous if I so choose and I may choose monogamy again someday. However, if I do, it won't be to end someone's angst. It will be because that's what my heart tells me I should do.

The writer once told me I was the poster child for Secure Partners Only. Every time nodder pointed out a reason why he wasn't good enough for me, every time he called my FMT my boyfriend in a fit of jealousy, every time he made jabs about other people in my life, I'd remember what the writer said.

Note to potential subs and boyfriends: Don't even bother approaching me if you don't have your shit together. Don't message me unless you are supremely confident and secure. If you're prone to jealousy, don't even breathe in my direction.

I am Lilyana, the poster child for Secure Partners Only. You've been warned.

Blissfully "boring as fuck"

2011-05-25T23:30:00.000-07:00

I've been flirting with the idea for a few months now. Today I took the plunge.

I'm officially in a monogamous relationship with nodder.

I'm still polyamorous. That hasn't changed. I'm still capable of maintaining multiple sexual, emotional and/or spiritual relationships. But I'm choosing to engage in a monogamous relationship.

The reactions I'm getting are mixed.

"Awwww that's nice, right?"

"You've gotten into a monogamous relationship? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Good luck! I hope it all works out great."

"WHAT??? Not even other girls?"

"OMG. OMFG."

"Do I know you? Monogamous? Wow. That's a big step."

"That's gonna be boring as fuck."

Boring? Yes, it's going to be BLISSFULLY BORING between nodder and me. Almost all of conflict we've had between us suddenly no longer exists because I'm no longer seeing or talking to anyone else.

Fuck rope

2011-05-23T01:46:00.000-07:00

I recently uttered words so unbelievable, so shocking that they stopped nodder in his tracks. Err ... Ok, mid thrust.

"Fuck rope."

It wasn't an adjective used to describe a certain type of rope. I was a verb. And it was said rather emphatically. FUCK ROPE.

If you follow my blog or know me in real life, you know I'm passionate about rope. And if you read On planning and satisfying cravings, you know that I seldom plan a scene. However, this was one of those rare nights where I had a plan. And that plan involved rope.

Take Lilyana's plan, add wine and nodder's skilled mouth and the plan begins to dissolve a bit.

"I should make you get my rope bag," I said more than once in between orgasms.

"I can stop," nodder said, without pausing whatever he was doing to please me. "I can go get it."

"NO."

As much as I love D/s play, I still enjoy what I refer to as pseudo vanilla sex. I can't call it vanilla because when you're involved heavily in BDSM, I'm not sure you can ever have truly vanilla sex. Some kinky element always sneaks into sex, or at least it seems to be that way for me.

But on this night nodder and I were having sex that was almost vanilla and heavily laced with orgasms for me, tease and denial for him. And it was good. Very good. I was into it.

And then nodder asked, at a particularly good moment, "Are you sure you don't want me to go get your rope bag now," and I responded emphatically, "FUCK ROPE."

Nodder stopped mid thrust. "WHAT?? Did you just say 'Fuck rope'?"

I laughed. I hadn't been thinking clearly and now that I was, the irony wasn't lost on me.

Since then, nodder has mentioned it more than once. Rather gleefully, in fact. I think he's rather proud that he was able to get me to say that. And I'm sure I'll never live it down.

Foot fucker

2011-05-03T00:16:00.000-07:00

When discussing with nodder all the hottest moments we've had together, a few things always come up. We both enjoyed the night I put him in panties, tied him to the table, made him suck a dildo and then masturbated behind him where he couldn't watch while using him as a footstool. We never fail to bring up our strap-on play or our most recent adventures in watersports. And I almost blush at the memory of the night he made me cum with a nod. ALMOST. It was that fucking hot.

As with any D/s relationship, our play has progressed with intensity over time. However, one of our favorite play sessions to reminesce about was one of our very first.

I demanded that he lick my ass. I do that. I love having my ass eaten. It's better than the best full body massage and oh so humiliating for the giver when you demand it.

I was on my knees on the bed, knees spread apart a bit, with the soles of my feet together. I wasn't aware of my precise positioning. It wasn't planned.

I was lost in the sensations of his talented tongue when I first became aware of the gentle nudging on the bottoms of my feet.

"What is that? What is that on my feet?"

Nodder groaned into my ass.

"Is that your cock???" I was surprised. He had admitted to finding my piggies rather cute but had said he didn't have a foot fetish.

"Mmmmmhmmmmm" he moaned.

"What??"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Are you trying to hump my feet?"

Nodder's response was the growl I would come to crave, his way of emoting when he is deeply and thoroughly humiliated in the most erotic way. I laughed and his growl deepened in response.

The nudging became more instent. Or maybe his cock was harder. Or maybe it was a little of both.

"You really are trying to fuck my feet, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," he whispered.

I laughed. "You're a foot fucker!"

He groaned and began rubbing his cock against the soles of my feet in earnest.

Boys at their best are terrible at multitasking. Horny boys are even worse. As he was fucking my feet he forgot about my ass.

"WHY AREN'T YOU LICKING MY ASS?? Are you too busy being a foot fucker to lick my ass??"

He growled and whispered, "Yes, Mistress," before putting his mouth back to good use.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't lick my ass AND fuck my feet. "You're terrible at multitasking. Do you want to keep fucking my feet?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"If you want to keep rubbing your little dicklett on my feet, you HAVE to keep licking my ass. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," he responded as he dove into eating my ass with new enthusiasm and I began to feel his precum on my soles.

And so it went for a bit - nodder failing miserably at multitasking, me laughing at and chiding him for it.

"Can I cum?"

"What??"

"Mistress, may I please cum," he asked in a strained voice.

I laughed, "You want to cum fucking my feet??"

He growled and I grinned with the delight of knowing I'd found a hot button of his and then tap danced all over it.

I gave him permission to cum on my feet. I never allow a boy to cum on me but that day, I did. In his first spurt, he overshot the soles of my feet and spread his enthusiasm all the way up one calf yet still managed to coat my feet.

"Now lick it off. All of it. Slowly."

Everything is better with rope

2011-04-25T23:30:00.000-07:00

My love of rope is well documented and undisputed.

And really, what's not to love?

In my blog Peeing on nodder I detailed my first golden shower experience with him. It was very very hot and I'll never forget how he looked laying there in my tub with his wrists bound above his head.

We did it again, a week or so later, only I didn't tie his wrists, didn't use rope of any kind. It was hot - almost as hot as the first time. But nodder and I both agreed that him being bound definitely increased the hotness factor.

Tying up cock and balls is always fun but tonight I took it in a new and exciting direction with nodder. Using about two yards of black paracord, I wrapped his balls snugly, then twisted the cord and separated his balls. I then preceded to wrap his cock in the paracord, crisscrossing it tightly up the length.

I played with his cock, squeezing the rope into the sensitive skin, stroking his cock gently then roughly over the rope, slapping his cock, blowing cold air slowly down its length, even teasing the head of his cock with my tongue.

I put a condom over it and then fucked it, rope and all.

Most of my typical CBT moves were enhanced by the paracord. And It was easier to get that delicious wince of his out of him. And the grimace. And maybe even a growl.

Even for me the sensations were new. The velvety warmth of his hardness was broken up by the rough paracord and through the light teasing touches, hard squeezing and sharp smacking, my hand relished each and every new sensation.

More than once I unwrapped his cock, played with the smooth length, and then retied it before teasing and abusing him some more.

And then when I got it wrapped just the way I wanted it, I put a condom over his cock, and the paracord I'd wrapped and tied around it, and fucked him.

Yum.

As I slid down his cock, the first thing I noticed was how his cock was no longer smooth. The paracord wrapped around his cock meant he was now ribbed for my pleasure in a major way. The paracord around the base of his cock that wasn't covered by the condom created some new friction sensations for my labia.

But probably most important of all - the rope added some girth to his cock.

And what girl doesn't like a little girth?

OK, a LOT of girth.

Top space: my new favorite drug

2011-04-18T18:10:00.000-07:00

I was discussing with 6 the hotness of a scene he'd participated in. It wasn't co-topping but more like sharing.

I enjoy sharing and I'm discovering I enjoy watching. Not random voyeurism though. I've pinpointed the hotness being wrapped up in the fact that I have some kind of connection with one or more of the people I'm watching. It's my new favorite thing.

Anyway, I was telling 6 about how much I enjoyed watching him, how much I enjoyed when our eyes met and I could see how much he was enjoying who I was sharing with him. I cited specific moments that were incredibly hot for me. My hottest moments. And then I asked him, "What was the hottest part for you?"

Without hesitation he responded, "Performing in front of you."

Instantly, I was back in Top space.

According to B.E.S.T slave training:

Top-space is a state of erotically altered consciousness (EAC) achieved during a scene by the dominant or top. It is characterized by feelings of intense focus, clarity of thought, a sense of extreme power or high energy, and/or exhilaration. Feelings of distance and objectivity, as if one where commanding from a mountaintop, may paradoxically accompany feelings of connection to the submissive, as if there were a psychic link.

Top space is a phenomenon I'd read about since I first started researching the lifestyle but couldn't exactly say I'd experienced outside of a scene until recently. I wrote about how it feels in session in "Having the whole world at my feet." But there is a certain euphoria I'm learning I can experience without actually being in the middle of a scene.

Ok maybe THAT is my new favorite thing. An incredible drug.

As I wrote "Peeing on nodder," I found myself in Top space. And I marveled at the fact that just writing about it brought on the euphoria.

I have to assume my sensitivity to what I'm feeling is growing as my experience in BDSM increases. Or maybe I'm just learning how to harness all that hotness in different ways.

Being selfish in bed

2011-04-12T22:20:00.000-07:00

"You, Lilyana, are selfish in bed," stated my FMT in a conversation recently.

"WHAAAAAT???" I was incredulous that HE of all people would say something like that.

"You are. You're selfish in bed," he said with a smirk. He does adore pushing my buttons.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

"Well, not with me," he said, back peddling. "You weren't like that with me at all. I just know you are with other guys."

"You aren't submissive. Of course things were different with you. But what in the world makes you think I am selfish in bed?"

"Lilyana, I live with you. I've heard you. I know."

I laughed. The acoustics in his house make it nearly impossible for an orgasm to go unnoticed. It's true.

"YOU are SO loud and I know all of your sounds. I can tell when you're getting eaten out and I know when you're on top. I can tell."

"Yeah? So?" I rolled my eyes at him in typical Lilyana fashion because I knew where he was going with the topic of conversation.

My FMT knows me better than just about anyone. Not only is he perceptive but he's known me for more than two years and we were dating for part of that. We've also been living as roommates for four months. However, even with his exposure to the lifestyle and as open minded as he is, he still sometimes misses the mark on his assessment of me and my motivations.

"I can tell from the sounds you make that those guys are making this all about you. That they're mostly here to please you."

"Exactly! That doesn't make me selfish. I'm dominant, remember?"

"Yeah, I KNOW," he said, annoyed. "But, you're selfish."

I sighed. "What you don't understand is that these guys get their pleasure from pleasing me. They are submissive to me. This is what they WANT."

"Yeah, I know."

"Then why are you saying I'm being selfish??"

"Because you are!"

"I am not!"

"Lilyana, I CAN HEAR YOU!"

At this point, I'm laughing at the ridiculousness of the fact that he's mistaken my dominance for selfishness. I suppose it's a rooky mistake a vanilla would make, but I just expected he'd understand me better than that.

And then I'm picturing him playing World of Warcraft in the loft outside my bedroom while I'm playing with a sub and saying to himself as the sounds I make change, "Oh he's licking her pussy now ... Ah she must have just climbed on top," and I'm still laughing.

"Well, maybe you should have soundproofed your house a little better, honey!"

Peeing on nodder

2011-04-07T14:34:00.000-07:00

I don't often use the term 'golden shower.' I rarely even call it 'water sports.' I sure as hell don't use flowery verbiage like 'drenching you in my sweet nectar.'

What the fuck ever. It's peeing on you. And I want you to know it.

Last month I played with nodder for the first time in quite some time. I had six weeks of pent up desire to make him growl and whimper and react in all of the ways that make me so hot for his submission.

I also had a mission. I wanted to pee on him.

It was something we hadn't done, something I'd threatened him with in those moments we'd discussed the things I still wanted to do to him, things I wanted to do with him.

As soon as we agreed to play again, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to pee on him.

I started drinking extra water an hour before I knew we were going to play in preparation and had a large glass by the bed when we began to play.

I'd missed his mouth on mine and we made out like teenagers for a bit before I went into Domme-mode, ready for serious play.

I tied a pink ribbon with hearts on it around his erect cock, laughed how silly his cock looked, and told him if he let the ribbon slip off while he massaged me, I'd punish him. Every few minutes during the time I enjoyed his hands rubbing my body, I'd check to ensure the ribbon was still in place. It was. And I smiled each time.

As he massaged me, I'd stop occasionally to gulp more water. I was surprised he didn't notice and comment.

When my bladder couldn't take anymore, when my anticipation was also peaking, I pushed him back on the bed and tied his wrists in front of him.

Rope makes a regular appearance in most of my sessions. It's no secret that I love rope. So I'm sure nodder wasn't surprised to see me pull out a long red length.

He was surprised, however, when I pulled him from the bedroom into the bathroom while his wrists were bound.

"Lay down in the tub. I'm going to pee on you."

I pulled his bound wrists over his head and put one foot on one side of his body, the other on a ledge in the tub. He looked up at me, his big brown eyes glazed over in a way that told me he was in that delicious place in his head, his sub space.

I talked to him about what I was about to do and watched him sink deeper into sub space. I can't recall exactly what I said, only the look in his eyes and his whimper/growl in response.

I enjoy making a boy beg for me to do terrible things to him. It's my thing. It makes me inexplicably happy.

I made him ask for it. I made him beg for me to pee on him. Made him articulate why he wanted it.

And then I did it. I peed on him. He groaned as it splashed all over him and I laughed. I laughed and laughed.

Laying there drenched in my pee, his cock was rigid.

"Aww you're SO hard. I think you LIKE me peeing on you, don't you?"

He groaned and gasped, "Yes."

I put my foot on his cock as he laid there in the bottom of my tub, surprised to discover that urine makes decent lube.

Nodder has a developed somewhat of a relationship with my feet. I like teasing him about how he enjoys my feet too much. And I did so then, rubbing the sole of my foot across the length of his hard cock and laughing. He growled in response, his eyes rolling back up in his head from the sensation and the humiliation.

"Can I cum?" he was gasping within seconds.

"No," I laughed and pushed the head of his cock between my toes a few times before stopping. I knew he was right at the edge.

I let him breathe a few moments before starting again. Within seconds he was begging to cum again.

I can't remember how many times I edged him. He couldn't take much. And then I let him spurt his cum all over his belly and chest while I laughed, the stickiness mixing with the urine.

With a nod

2011-03-22T22:25:00.000-07:00

Over the past four years I've become increasingly orgasmic. I cannot express how grateful I am for this fact. It wasn't so long ago that I could only cum when I was on top of a man.

Yeah that should have been the first clue I was dominant.

Now I can cum from having my nipples sucked just the right way, from having my toes sucked and from being bitten on the back of the neck, inner thigh or on the area where my ass and my thigh meet. Once, when I was particularly turned on, I even came from a boy blowing on my pussy.

Yes, blowing air.

But a week ago, I came with a nod.

Seriously. He nodded, I came.

My former sub and I hadn't played in six very long weeks and we were both chomping at the bit to do so last Monday. We'd had a very hot scene that started with a massage for me and ended with bondage and water sports, had taken a dinner break, and were back at it again.

All of my play sessions with him include some kind of humiliation. He's a whore for humiliation and I can literally put him in subspace with a few well put together words.

Erotic humiliation is my forte. It's something I've become quite good at and I'm proud of the skills I developed in this area. The fact that I can make a boy blush, whimper or moan, even make his cock drip, with just a handful of softly spoken words, makes me hotter than just about anything. If I never picked up another cane or riding crop, I'd still have a fulfilling BDSM life as long as I could laugh at a boy's expense and watch their cock thicken in response.

Of everyone I've ever played with, I must admit it's my (former) sub's reactions to humiliation I've enjoyed most.

One of his biggest triggers is talk of forced bi, something that is still on his list of hard limits, something that he KNOWS is a huge turn on to me. Perhaps this is why strap-on play is so hot for us.

So last week we did some strap-on play. I used the suction cup on the dildo to stick it to the mirror and then watched him watch himself as he sucked cock.

I do so enjoy watching that boy suck my cock. Even when it's not between my legs.

Then I donned my strap-on harness and he lovingly sucked my cock from his knees, looking up at me from time to time in a way that makes me melt every time. After I fucked his face thoroughly, making him gag on my cock, I layed back on the bed to watch between me legs some more. He lavished attention on my cock, to be sure, but he didn't forget the feminine parts beneath the harness. His skillful tongue and fingers dug under the harness to the wetness beneath and found ways to excite me further.

I pulled him up over me so that I could enjoy his mouth on mine and while deep into our kiss, I felt a nudging in my groin. I broke away from our kiss and looked down.

"What are you doing?" I asked. He whimpered softly in response and looked down to where our bodies met, his cock rubbing against mine. "Are you grinding against my cock??"

He looked up and me, still grinding against my cock, his big brown eyes met mine ... and he nodded.

I came almost instantaneously. Just like that.

The excitement of the taboo nature of our play, the anticipation built up after six long weeks of play, his cock grinding against me so deliciously - it all certainly played a part in pushing me near the brink of orgasm.

But it was his nod that made me cum. It was his acknowledgement of the humiliating act in which he was engaged and our amazing connection that pushed me over the edge.

And with a nod, I came.

Trying casual play

2011-02-28T15:40:00.000-08:00

I'm playing with the girl again tomorrow night. It'll be the first time we've played in 9 months or so and I'm looking forward to it.

No, she's not my sub anymore nor is she hoping to be again. She's a bottom who enjoys playing with Dominant females and is happy that way.

I'm not usually a fan of this kind of casual play. I know it's fun for others but I've never felt it would be fulfilling to me.

Until now. Now it seems pretty perfect.

My (former) sub and I continued playing and dating even after we broke up in November. The dating may have been casual after that but the play never was.

Play with him was amazing. Our kinks were almost perfectly matched. He was wonderfully strong in his vanilla life and beautifully submissive to me. The boy lived to make me orgasm and could do so like no one I've ever met. And I craved his every moan, whimper and growl like a PMS'ing woman craves chocolate.

I still do.

We're no longer seeing each other at all. His hours spent between my thighs have come to an end. I'll never hurt his cock again and feel it get harder or make him whimper with just a few whispered words.

As I consider my current and future play options, I find myself excited to play with the girl again. However, when I think about playing with another boy ... I feel an ache I can't describe. I actually teared up last week thinking about it.

Now you know a good chunk of the real reason I'm taking a break from D/s relationships at the moment.
And why casual play seems like a more palatable idea.

I've always turned down opportunities for casual play up until recently. I wanted the play I had to be with someone with whom I connected and with whom I had a chance of some type of a future. It was important to me.

But as I'm taking the time to heal and while I'm taking a serious look at what I want in the future, I still NEED the play.

It's not about getting laid. I can do that without involving a submissive. It's that my brain needs that stimulation I get only from controlling someone who submits control to me.

So tomorrow night the girl will call me Mistress again, serve my every whim and submit to whatever I desire. But just during the time we are together. Once we part, our D/s relationship ceases unless or until we decide to play again.

While this is not normally something that would appeal to me, it's what I think I can handle at the moment.

More than that, I think it's what I NEED. I need to be able to play and not worry about the future and relationships and just enjoy D/s play at a primal level.

Taking a break and inadvertently putting out the catnip

2011-02-19T14:50:00.000-08:00

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. A lot of introspection and a lot of consideration of what's going on around me.

For the first time I can remember since I entered this lifestyle, I find myself without any submissives or any under consideration. A few months ago, I'd pretty much quit pursuing anything new unless it fell into my lap. I was truly happy with my (former) sub. The few that I'd been talking to since have been released or have disappeared/flaked, as subby boys tend to do.

That leaves me virtually unencumbered. Yes, there's a boy I've been talking about playing with and chewtoy continues to remain an option for NSA play that I haven't taken advantage of for months. And I still play online occasionally with cumboy. However, none of them are relationship material or even candidates for the type of D/s relationship I've been seeking.

Oh and there is a non-sub I've been seeing too. I adore him but he's not long term relationship material either. And of course Missy, a gorgeous bisexual woman I see some who has grown to be a good friend.

Yeah go ahead and laugh but it seems like my life is very simple right now. At least in regards to relationships. Or maybe it seems that way because none of those in my life are potential subs.

So it seems like a great time to take a bit of a break.

Although I'm not withdrawing from the lifestyle, I'm not actively seeking anything new. So I just changed my profile on collarme to add an intro that says:

I'm typically looking for an intelligent, attractive submissive man who is Dominant in his vanilla life - someone single and ready for something that might evolve into something serious. However, at this time, I'm taking a bit of a break. I'm not opposed to meeting exceptional potential submissives, but I'm not currently actively seeking any.

I sent this to a dear friend of mine, so proud that I'd take such a major step, and he said, "Oh, sweets -- that's catnip." I laughed and he added, "Trust the dom-in-life sub-in-sex male on this. Catnip."

This sabbatical doesn't mean I'll stop writing. I have a backlog of entries to finish and post. So don't remove me from your blog roll. I'm not going anywhere.

And if my friend is correct, though it is certainly not my intent, the catnip will bring me plenty of blogworthy material to write about.

Erotica: Fulfillment - by the writer

2011-02-11T15:33:00.000-08:00

A loyal reader, who I call the writer, wrote this very very hot story for me. He somehow managed to write the Femdom as very Lilyana-like, so much so that when I read this I think, "That is EXACTLY what I'd have said/done!" Although I have not yet cucked a sub, I imagine a scenario very much like this one. With his permission, I'm sharing thie super hot erotica with you all.

My hands tremble as they unbutton your blouse.

It would be the first time I would ever see you naked, and I had rented the suite for the occasion. There were candles for the bedroom. The sitting room filled with flowers. There was scented oil for the bath.

You arrived with your overnight bag looking like you had come from an office. The blouse buttoned so high that by the way I was halfway done – forcing myself to take my time, to savor every moment – I was merely viewing what I’d seen many times before.

It was still breath-taking. Just the sight of the soft, smooth skin of your upper breasts. Cleavage that had often been on view.

I paused, moved my lips towards you.

“May I?” I asked.

“Not yet,” you answered.

I pulled back and continued my task. When you blouse was fully open, I took it and folded it neatly on the sitting room’s couch.

Each piece of clothing I removed set my heart pounding. I looked at you with such longing and desire. You smiled at me with tender cruelty.

When I was finally down to your bra and panties, I poured you a glass of wine and went to start your bath. Good hotels have good tubs, and I was careful to make sure the water would be warm, not scalding.

I returned. You turned your back to me. I steadied myself as I undid the clasp of your bra.

When I came back from setting it neatly on top of the rest of your clothing, you turned towards me. The fullness of your breasts took my breath way. You lifted them, knowing they were all I desired.

“Now,” you whispered.

I lowered my lips, kissed the soft skin. Licked just above your nipples. You shifted slightly, and your nipple was in my mouth. I suckled.

And then, when I knew the bath was nearly ready, I stepped back. Slid your panties off slowly. Folded them and presented you with your robe.

I held your hand as you stepped into the tub. Stood back while you luxuriated in the oiled and gelled water, the scent barely present, sensuous without overwhelming. You closed your eyes and I knelt, droplets of condensation sticking to my skin.

When you were ready, you opened your eyes. I tested the water, added just a bit more to keep the temperature constant.

I lathered up the softest washcloth I could find and began to wash your back. My motions were gently, slow, and circular. I took my time.

I kissed the back I had cleaned.

Your arms and legs were next. When it came to your feet, I put the washcloth away and began to give you a foot massage. I could feel the last bit of tension drain from your body.

I added a bit more hot water, then rose to your face. One kiss to the forehead and then I began cleaning with caresses, following your bones.

When I was done, I nodded towards your breasts.

“May I?” I asked.

“Only with the cloth,” you answered.

Not one part of my finger touched the skin. I was light, professional.

My cock was rock hard.

I knew when it came to your pussy that this was not the time for climax.

You shifted and presented me with your ass.

“Make it as clean as the rest of me,” you said.

I turned on the Jacuzzi and knelt silently as it soothed your body.

When you were ready, I stood with open towel, drying you, not allowing you to do a thing except indicate where you wanted to be dried next.

I wrapped you in your robe and led you to the make-up mirror. There was a stool, of course. Hotels like this always had stools for women.

I opened the overnight bag. What was inside was so much sexier than what I had removed. The make-up kit was on top.

I handed you compacts, brushes, containers.

When you were satisfied, I slid the lace-thin panties up your legs, careful – oh so careful – not to touch. Lifted the negligee over you head and let it fall over your body.

“There’s more,” you said.

I went to the overnight case and took out a second pair of panties.

“For you,” you said.
I slipped the panties on. It took three tries before I could keep my cock from falling out.

You smiled sweetly now and took my hand. You led me to the bedroom.

“I’d kiss you,” you said, “but my make-up.”

You nodded to a cushioned wooden arm-chair. It was perfect. I’d made sure of that before I’d booked the room.

The panties were so skimpy that the chair cushion scratched my skin. I shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. I knew this was important.

You bound my wrists and arms to the armrest, my ankles to the chair’s front feet.

Then you gagged my mouth.

You picked up your phone and dialed.

“The door’s unlocked,” you said, giving the number of the room.

Your hand went through my hair, tousling it gently, warmly, fondly.

“I know you can handle this,” you said. “No turning back now.”

With my eyes, all I had, I told you it was so.

The candles’ light played upon your body as we waited, soft and caressing but strong enough so I could see every curve as well as the openly lustful desire on your face.

I turned my head as I heard the door open and shut.

“In here,” you said.

Your head did not even glance in his direction. You were watching me, gauging my reaction, taking pleasure from the fear and excitement in my eyes.

He stepped into the room and came up behind you. There was no hesitation on his part. No asking for permission.

He said your name and you turned your head back towards him.

As you kissed, he pressed himself behind you. His left hand slipped down your front, beneath the fabric, over your breasts.

With that you stiffened – a spring of lust coiled for release. Your kiss became a fury, deeper, more insistent, urging him on.

His right hand caressed your hip swiftly, then slid down your leg to where your negligee ended. In one movement, it slipped underneath the fabric, which hid your skin as he reached towards the place you both wanted him to go.

I could tell from your face that you were already wet.

Tears stung my eyes as you came quickly. I could only hope that my preparation had been your foreplay. As your body shook, he looked me in the eye for the first time. He had claimed – not you, exactly. He had claimed his right. He didn’t need words to tell me: this is my right. To take the woman you serve. To take her without asking, as you never can.

Then, when your orgasm had subsided, you turned. Turned without his asking. As if you, too, wanted to make sure I understood how you melted to this man.

Your hands slid down his chest as you went to your knees – not waiting to undress him, simply sinking, undoing his fly. You grabbed his cock – engorged and growing larger – and did not hesitate to bring it to your lips, flicking your tongue lightly over the tip.

It nearly broke my heart to watch the skill and devotion you exhibited in the act.

Knowing that I would no more experience your tongue sliding down my shaft than I would ever feel the inside of your pussy was utter torment. Having you share this with me was my delight.

You did not let him cum. Instead, when he was hard and dripping, you withdrew.

While he undressed, you walked over to me, removed my gag, and kissed me hard on the lips, making sure I could taste his precum.

As you re-fastened the gag, you whispered in my ear, “Good thing he’s not bi or that would have been your job.”

When you slid upon the bed, you careful to position yourself so that I could see him enter you. The two of you were slow and certain, as if you had agreed to make sure my cuckolding would not be swift.

He began to fuck you hard but let you cum before he did. I could see him holding back, see him ride your climax through.

Then you rose to him, whispered in his ear.

He looked at me and laughed.

“You’ve really never fucked her?” he asked as he slid outside you.

I shook my head; you reached for the nightstand.

“And he never will,” you said. “This is as close as he gets.”

There was a bottle of lube in your hand. Even the gag could not completely muffle the sound that came out of me as I realized what was next.

He lubed and fingered you and slipped his cock into your ass.

“Tell him,” you said as he slowly fucked your ass, “tell him how good it feels to have my tight hole wrapped around your cock.”

“Can you imagine? Can you?” he taunted.

I nodded my head, my tears blurring my vision.

As they cleared, I could see you were fully relaxed. He thrust harder, shuddered, and was still.

He withdrew, his cock glistening. You didn’t make a move.

“Untie him,” you said.

He nodded. He walked over to my chair and undid the rope.

I watched as his cum slowly began to seep out of you.

When he was finished, he looked at you.

“You may not want to see this,” you said.

He nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Take off your gag,” you said. “You know what to do.”

I climbed up behind you, lapping the cum off your butt cheeks.

I knew there was more. I licked at your opening.

I had never thrust my tongue inside the place where I knew it had to go. I knew you were clean. Knew from the sight of his shaft. Knew because I had cleaned you. Realized that you had this planned before I had bathed you.

I still had to fight my instincts. I took a deep breath and my tongue plunged in. I wanted the taste and smell of your pussy, but this was where you wanted me to be.

When I was finished, you held me.

“You can’t fuck me and you can’t cum,” you said as you stroked me gently. “Is there anything else you desire?”

I pulled myself close to you.

“Please,” I sobbed, “spend the night.”

You kissed me forehead.

“Of course,” you said.

You rose from the bed and beckoned me to the living room.

“I have a present for you.”

I was surprised to see he was still here, waiting.

You paid him no mind. Instead, you went to your bag and from it withdraw a set of plug-in headphones that you handed to me.

“Noise-canceling,” you said. “I hope they’re comfortable enough so you can sleep.”

It was then I saw the bedding on the couch. You were spending the night – just not with me.

I placed the plugs in my ears and turned the headphones on.

You took your lover’s hand and disappeared into the bedroom, shutting the door.

I knew you needed a man like the one you were doubtless about to fuck again, the man whose name I did not know. Knew that you needed someone who would never ask permission, who would take you with pure masculine right.

I knew that you would never be satisfied without having the kind of sex I had just witnessed, any more than you could ever be satisfied without the occasional woman in your life.

But I also knew that you needed me, a sub who trusted you completely, whom you could scare, and humiliate, and hurt if you chose.

You needed all of us.

It had taken all my strength to endure the evening. To give myself so completely.

I was so, so proud that you had chosen me. That you had trusted me to play my part, because I knew that tonight was as special to you as it was to me. That having both of us at once – the man who would claim his right and the one who would suffer – was greater for you than having either of us alone.

I looked to the closed door. I could neither see nor hear a thing. But I knew you were delighted.

I, too, was fulfilled.

My boy, the writer

2011-02-10T14:02:00.000-08:00

D/s relationship status: long distance submissive

Relationship status: friends

The writer is a 50 something year old professional writer who lives on the East coast. We began corresponding through my blog and developed a friendship. Our mutual appreciation for each other and the beauty of D/s eventually led us to begin playing remotely. He enjoys the more mental aspects of submission including humiliation, cuckolding and chastity and I enjoy how well he articulates his torment in his writings for me.

Blogs about the writer
Blogs written by the writer

'Saving myself' or 'Maybe I'm not as sadistic as I thought'

2011-02-09T21:26:00.000-08:00

This blog is a follow up to my previous post entitled Today is the day about how I've been looking forward to using a strap-on on a boy for the first time.

While my (former) sub made me a little dinner, I dressed in red lace panties, red lace bra, black fishnet stockings, sexy strappy heels and a man shirt. I'm all about contrasts.

I fingered and plugged his ass to prepare him. I knew he hadn't had any major ass play in quite some time and I had no desire to damage him. Afterward, I put him in pretty panties for a bit simply because it amused me to do so.

Yes, that's me and yes, my cock is black.

I ate a little dinner. And then I donned my cock.

I sashayed about a little and took a couple of pictures before I turned my attention to him. I kissed him, pushing my cock against him, against his own cock, and he moaned into my mouth at the reminder. He was anxious to suck my cock and I knew it. And I was in happy to make him wait. Making him wait meant more anticipation for me and more kissing.

I do so adore kissing that boy.

Finally, I pushed him to his knees and he looked up at me hopeful and expectant, his mouth inches from my cock. He leaned in, anxious to take it in his mouth and I laughed and pushed him away. I slapped his face with my cock and he winced, not from the pain but from the humiliation of it. I smiled and did it again. And again. He blinked from the impact each time but his eyes quickly returned to mine.

"Stick your tongue out." I placed the head of my cock on his waiting tongue. His eyes locked with mine, I began to push my cock into his mouth, teasing him. I giggled. He winced. I got wetter.

I do so adore making that boy wince.

I put my hands on the back of his head, smiled, and pushed his face slowly down on my cock and then pulled my cock away.

"Mmmm" he moaned.

I pulled his face towards my hips, my cock going deep into his mouth and making him gag a little. This time it was my moan that was audible.

I do so adore making that boy gag on my cock.

I continued fucking his face watching his eyes water, feeling him shudder a bit as he gagged on my cock and I laughed aloud at the sheer joy of it all.

After a bit I pulled my cock out of his mouth and slapped his face again playfully.

"You like sucking my cock don't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," he said from his knees, big brown eyes looking up at me.

"You're thinking about it being real cock, aren't you? Wondering what it would be like to suck real cock for me, aren't you?"

He whimpered, "Yes, Mistress."

And then he did the hottest thing EVER. He gently took my hands in his and, his eyes never leaving mine, put them on the back of his head.

He wanted more. And I gave it to him. I fucked his face until I could wait no longer for his ass.

I'd always pictured the scenario including rope, that I'd enjoy having the boy bound tightly when I took his ass, but he as it turned out, the mood didn't call for rope. It was sensual and sexy and chock full of hotness without rope.

Until the not fun pain.

I removed the plug and tried to fuck his tight ass with my cock.I lubed him and fingered him before I tried to slide my cock in. We both expected some discomfort but I didn't like how he described the pain. It didn't sound like anything I'd experienced before and I wasn't going to take a chance that I would do any real damage. More fingering, more lube and more trying ... nothing worked and I gave up.

I know I could have just taken his ass probably without any real damage. My cock isn't very big and was purchased especially for tight, unused asses like his. I had plenty of lube. But even as sadistic as I am, and as badly as I wanted his ass, it wasn't worth taking a chance.

So I guess you could say I'm still 'saving myself.' Or you COULD say maybe I'm not as sadistic as I thought.

Today is the day

2011-01-24T07:16:00.000-08:00

I've never taken a boy's ass with a strap-on.

Seriously.

I've come close. Real close. I had the head of my big purple cock inside babyboy's very tight ass. One thrust of my hips and I wouldn't be writing about this cherry of mine. But I was using the harness and dildo a former girlfriend and I had purchased together. We had selected a length and size we'd both enjoy vaginally. I never thought for a moment I'd use its ample length and girth on an ass let alone a male ass.

The truth is I don't feel compelled to play with every ass I come in contact with. And although I maintain a theory that every male is an ass slut or an ass slut ready to happen, I haven't played with many trained for regular ass play.

They all have tight little pseudo virgin asses. None could have taken the girth of my purple cock.

I have enjoyed watching a few of them suck it, pushing my big purple cock deep into their throats.

And then I broke the harness on the girl. *sigh* Good times.

The purple dildo remained in my toy bag and occasionally made appearances in play such as when I tied my sub to a table and forced him to suck it, then masturbated with it before I forced him to suck it some more.

*sigh* Good times.

Could I have bought another harness and a more reasonable sized cock and fucked a boy's ass before now? Sure. But the truth is I have enjoyed the anticipation of taking a boy's ass for the first time.

Perhaps I've nearly romanticized it. I've waited so long and I want it to be with the right guy at the right time.

I can't even type that without giggling at the ridiculousness of that idea but it's probably true. I've been "saving myself."

And today is the day.

From submissive to boyfriend. Can a D/s relationship survive?

2010-12-10T08:34:00.000-08:00

While straddling the boy, I thrust the nipple of my right breast into the his mouth and leaned into him, smothering him with my double D’s. He sucked furiously and, as he began struggling and thrashing as his oxygen ran out, the thought running through my head was “MINE. MINE. MINE.”

As I ground my hips into his, “MINE. MINE. MINE,” was all I could think.

As I raped his mouth with my tongue, as I gripped his cock so hard he winced in pain, “MINE. MINE. MINE.”

Only he’s not mine.

He doesn’t greet me by kissing my hand anymore. He doesn’t call me Mistress. He doesn’t do a dozen little things anymore because he isn’t MINE.

But the primal part of me that enjoyed owning him doesn’t seem to know that. That part of me that screams MINE even now, more than three weeks after we ended our D/s relationship as we try to patch together something that somewhat resembles dating.

I’m not the only one having these same internal conflicts. My best friend, Miss Apryl recently broke up with her collared, 24/7 slave that she'd been with for 9 months and has experienced difficulty transitioning from D/s to dating. She had so much trouble with it that she no longer has any relationship with him, in fact.

“I was just thinking we might be able to date without D/s. That was fucking stupid. I can't go back. When I found out he was jerking off without permission I nearly lost my shit. And that was after he moved out,” Miss Apryl recently revealed. “Even before that I didn’t like that he was no longer sitting to pee and every time he plopped down on the sofa, I was SO irritated.”

While their D/s relationship was in effect, Miss Apryl’s slave was require to sit every time he urinated and had to ask permission to sit on her furniture. These little rituals, like me requiring my sub to always greet me by kissing my hand, were small but meaningful reminders of their submission and indicators of their respect for us.

And we miss them.

I recognize that when non-D/s relationships evolve, it is not always without incident. This I know only too well as my friends with benefits relationship with my FMT evolves into a friendship that’s more emotionally intimate yet devoid of the yummy benefits I’ve enjoyed so much over the past two years. I’m struggling with the transition and that’s probably another blog altogether.

But I feel like the battle to turn a D/s relationship into a dating relationship is probably a lot different. Miss Apryl hypothesizes that this is probably because of the ownership element of D/s and as I reflect upon the feelings of MINE MINE MINE I’m having in regards to my former sub, I tend to agree.

"Trying to date after D/s feels like the relationship is going backwards," Miss Apryl said. "And when you have that level of commitment, you can never go back."

Moving in and moving on

2010-11-16T16:12:00.000-08:00

I recently moved in with my FMT. I'm renting his guest room. We're not LIVING TOGETHER.

It's a temporary thing. It works for now. It helps us both out.

We're still friends with benefits, my FMT and me. In fact, I think we've increased the friendship factor.

But the fact of the matter is, I'm living with a guy I have a history with, one that I have enjoyed fucking.

This didn't go over well with my sub.

I've never made a secret of being polyamorous. My sub knew it when he contacted me and knew that I've been seeing other guys since we've met.

So a week ago I was surprised when he admitted to feelings of raging jealousy and then verbally attacked me and my lifestyle choices.

The short version of our break up is this: he can't handle me being polyamorous.

Somewhere along the way, he'd fallen in love with me. It wasn't planned. It just happened. And he'd dealt with his insecurities and kept his jealousy under control until I moved in with my FMT. Then something in him snapped.

Somewhere along the way, I'd fallen for him too. How could I not? I enjoyed him in every way - kinky and vanilla. The play was phenomenal AND I loved spending time with him outside of the bedroom. He's smart and witty and I enjoyed his company as much as I craved his submission. He was a guy I could almost picture building a life with.

Until he snapped.

He's not poly. He doesn't get it. He can't handle it.

It's unfortunate. It's tragic, really. I've waited so long to find a sub I connect with. One who could satisfy my needs, D/s and otherwise.

If he was a cuck, he'd be perfect.

We're at a stalemate, my (former) sub and I. He can't handle even the thought of me with other guys. I'm polyamorous.

I'm a glass is half full kind of girl so I have to admit it's probably for the best that if this was going to be an issue, it's good that it came up now. As sadistic as I am, I don't relish hurting someone emotionally and clearly I was doing that to my sub.

I just had no idea that by moving in, it meant that I'd be moving on.

Edging

2010-10-28T10:06:00.000-07:00

For those of you who may not know, edging is bringing someone up to the point they're ready to cum but not letting them orgasm. If you've been reading my blog a while, you know it's one of my favorite ways to exert control.

Edging a guy has become somewhat second nature to me, even when that guy is not submissive. I did it with 9 and I do it with my FMT. Both enjoyed it. Only my FMT admits it easily though. It's probably because he's not all wound up in the Dom mind set.

My FMT is what I call pseudo vanilla. He's kinky by vanilla standards but not lifestyle D/s. That's not to say he doesn't understand the lifestyle though. He had a pretty fair grasp on the subject before we met almost two years ago and has picked up a few things just from being around me.

He "gets it" but enjoys joking like he does not. He tries, on occasion, to give me a taste of what I do to subs. "I want you to feel what it is that you do your poor subs." Yes, he considers himself some kind of advocate for all male subs as if it's his job to right all the wrongs against them. And it never fails to get a rise out of me. No one could ever say my FMT doesn't know precisely how to push my buttons.

Earlier this week we were enjoying the benefits of our friends with benefits relationship when he suddenly switched gears on me. This man who seems to live to see me orgasm suddenly stopped mid thrust just as I was about to cum.

Right at the edge.

"What the fuck?!?!"

"What?" he smiled as he started fucking me again.

"You just ..." I lost my train of thought as my orgasm immediately began to build again. I heard him moan a little and knew it was in response to me tightening around him. I was ready to cum.

And then he stopped.

"Oh my God. Really??? Seriously??" I playfully smacked his face.

"Really?? Really??" he mimicked, then snickered.

"You can't do that."

"Do what?"

"You can't just stop like that?"

"Like what?"

"You can't just stop fucking me like that!!"

He laughed. "Oh can't I? Why not?"

"Because you can't!!"

"Oh yeah? Isn't that what you call edging? Hmmm? Yeah?"

"Yes but ..."

"See? See what it's like?"

"No, I don't like it!"

"Well, that's what it's like when you do it to guys! It's not very much fun, is it? IS IT?"

At this point I'm laughing. Here is this vanilla guy, the biggest proponent of edging I've seen from a guy who doesn't submit, trying to "teach me a lesson" about how terrible edging is.

Here's the thing. I really did hate it.

Now like any woman, I enjoy a certain amount of teasing, during foreplay especially.

Teasing, yes. Edging, no.

Hell fucking no.

Making the List - Top 100 Sex Blogs of 2010

2010-10-25T12:30:00.000-07:00

Friday night I was perusing twitter when I ran across a link from @writingdirty's Jack Stratton regarding the list for the Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2010. Though I'd been thrilled to learn I was nominated, I'd actually forgotten about the list and was unaware of when the results would be posted.

So Friday night I was relaxing with my bestie, Miss Apryl, her slave and my sub when I read the news. I AM #30!!!

No, it wasn't like I got a call from the Academy or something. I wish I could say it was during something terribly sexy but it wasn't. Miss Apryl was making oatmeal cookies and the boys were watching TV.

All three of them got to see the Lilyana happy dance, we toasted with freshly baked oatmeal cookies and then the rest of the night all four of us worked into the conversation as often as possible reference to me being #30 on the Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2010.

Yep, that's how I roll.

I tell you all, my readers, this story for a couple of reasons.

There was some outrage at who was named #1, Alexa DiCarlo. Do your own research if you're interested, but the short story is that it was revealed that Alexa was not the female sex worker she presented herself as. "Her" blog was removed from the web, in response to the accuations, I'd imagine.

As a sex blogger, I understand protecting your identity. We expose a lot of ourselves in our blog and we don't need someone stalking us. What we're doing isn't critical. We aren't curing cancer here, we're writing about sex. And we're doing out here on the interwebs where you can basically be whoever it is you want to be.

And if some guy named Pat wants to say his name is Alexa and that he's a call girl, hey, he can do that. For me personally, knowing that doesn't make me want to read "her" stuff but it probably doesn't diminish the hotness of "her" blog for others.

But let me tell you about Lilyana.

I am who I say I am. I'm a lifestyle Domme in my thirties who lives in Las Vegas. But there is more to me than just what you read. I reveal what I feel like needs to be revealed in order to tell a story effectively. You don't need to know what I do for a living or about my family life in order to read and appreciate what I do in my kinky life.

The boys I write about are real. I protect their identities as I protect my own, but they are very real.

My stories are all real. Whenever I write about a scene with a boy (or the girl), they read it and ALWAYS tell me that's how they remember it too. Yes, I could embellish for the sake of the hotness of the story, but quite honestly, it's just too much trouble. For me, the truth is more than hot enough.

Yes, I realize it would be so much hotter to say that I received a call from another hot sex blogger right in the middle of some amazing scene with a hot boy, but that's simply not what happened. I found out I'd made the list while the hottest thing happening was the oven baking some really delicious cookies. And I'm ok sharing that.

I am who I am and I write about what actually happens to me. If that makes me Listworthy, then I'm glad. It is fun for me to know you actually want to read about it.

On planning and satisfying cravings

2010-10-21T16:39:00.000-07:00

In many areas of my life, I'm very much a planner. I like to schedule things. I like to know what I'm doing, what comes next.

But when it comes to playing with a submissive, my scenes are never planned in detail. I allow them to evolve naturally at my whim. I can be as sadistic as I am sensual and my mood very much dictates in what direction I steer a scene.

Sometimes, though, I'll want to do something that has logistical requirements. In the case of Forced bi with fireboytoy and pk, I had a finite period of time in which to execute the scene AND I needed to draft another person to assist. I can't just decide I want to force a boy to suck cock without having another cock around. It's got to be a planned thing.

Other times, I have a specific craving that simply must be satisfied.

Earlier this week, my sub and I had an opportunity to play. We've spent a lot of time together recently and have played quite a bit, but much has been impromptu. In other words, it's been mostly unplanned play that occurred no where near my toy bag, no where near my rope.

I've enjoyed every moment of this "stolen" time together, but there's something extra sexy about playing when you've been looking forward to it, anticipating it, even *gasp* planning for it.

My sub knows me well. He knows I don't like to plan details of a scene. He often teases me about it. But I did let him know I wanted to do rope. That I was craving it.

He'd arrived at our hotel suite before me and was happy to report that there was plenty of bondage friendly, sturdy furniture. Upon my arrival, I evaluated what I had to work with and settled on the big table like desk. My sub pulled it into the center of the room where I could have plenty of access to all sides of it, and him, once he was tied to it.

While he changed into a very humiliating pair of fru fru panties, I slowly unpacked my rope and other toys, pausing to consider my options and snickering at my own wickedness.

I tied a length of rope to each wrist to create cuffs I could use to tether him and then bent him face down over the desk, lenthwise, so that he was stretched across the smooth wood and almost on his toes. I tied each rope to a leg of the desk securely and then slowly circled my tethered prey. I giggled at the view of his ass, bent over the table with the ultra feminine thong, its ruffle around the waist almost a skirt, and heard his wince muffled against the wood of the desk.

Sliding my hand between his legs I found his cock hard from the humiliation of the panties and in anticipation of what was to come.

Or maybe it was my laugh. It seems that my laugh is his kryptonite. But that's probably a whole other blog.

I left him there while I retrieved a towel, lube and a butt plug. I donned one rubber glove with a snap and pulled his pretty panties down.

"With your panties down around your knees like this, you reminded me of a naughty little girl about to get a spanking," I said as I applied lube to his asshole. He whimpered in response.

I played with his ass until he was gasping and then inserted a butt plug and pulled his panties back up to keep the butt plug in place. I continued to tease him, relishing every whimper, every moan, and then I switched gears.

From my toy bag I retrieved the fairly large purple dildo I used with my strap on until I broke the harness on the girl last spring. I used the flat base that acts as a suction cup on smooth surfaces to stick it to the desk in front of my sub's face but not before I'd smacked him in the face with it, taunting him with the length and girth.

"Suck it."

Tied across the desk with my big purple cock in his face, he looked up at me with big brown eyes, wincing in the way that makes me so so wet just before starting to lick it slowly. I watched him closely, holding the base as he teased my dildo with his mouth. Impatient with his prudishness, I grabbed the back of his head and forced it down on the dildo until his lips touched my hand. He gagged a little, making me even wetter, and I taunted him with talk about sucking real cock for me one day.

His whimpers, gagging, wincing and rapid breathing turned me on so much, I had to do something about it. I moved a comfortable chair directly behind him, yanked the dildo out of his mouth and made myself comfortable. With one leg draped over the arm of the chair I pushed the purpled dildo into my wetness easily not bothering the stifle the moan that errupted.

My sub tried to turn to see me as I described how good the big cock felt inside me but my ropes kept him virtually immobile. Watching him struggle to see me made me even more excited.

I propped one foot up on his ass but not before I used my toe to push the butt plug just a bit deeper in his ass. I laughed at the view - my foot on his obviously manly ass, butt plug clearly visible between his butt cheeks as he's bent over wearing pretty panties.

I knew how badly he wanted to watch me masturbate. We'd discussed it several times. I'd taunted him with it before, IMing him or texting him, teasing him with the knowledge that I was masturbating and he couldn't watch.

There we were in the same room and he still couldn't watch. And it was killing him.

Having him bent over for me, in rope, using him as a foot stool as I masturbated with a perfectly sized dildo turned me on too much. Though I savored every moment, he wasn't struggling to turn and see me long. I tried to put it off, to delay my orgasm, but I came pretty quickly.

I put the purple dildo, still wet with my juices, in front of his face and watched him clean it thoroughly and eagerly.

Yes, he was allowed to satisfy of his craving too. His craving to taste me.

Poly by permission

2010-10-15T11:24:00.000-07:00

I’m poly. This is no secret to the boys I see, vanilla or kinky. It can’t be. It’s a part of who I am.

When I began seeing my sub almost two months ago, we discussed polyamory. He’d been a live-in submissive to a married Domme whose husband was a Dom and also had a live in sub, so he’d experienced poly. However, he’d never been allowed to see anyone but her, never experienced how it is to maintain multiple relationships himself.

As a Dominant, I realize I’m perfectly within my rights to ensure my sub doesn’t see anyone else while they are with me. What’s good for the goose doesn’t necessarily apply to the gander.

But I’m also fair.

Early in our relationship I let him know I’d be open to allowing him to date but that he’d need to ask first.

“So let me get this straight. You’re poly and I’m poly by permission.”

I laughed and said yes.

So yesterday the subject arose and he asked permission to date. He is seeing me date other guys and wants to experience polyamory himself.

My first instinct was to react with "MINE MINE MINE" like a child who has been asked to share her toys. I can't help it. But after a little discussion, my reasoning prevailed and I agreed. However, I advised him there would be parameters.

Of course he’s going to have rules.

You may spend no more than 30 minutes a day on dating websites corresponding with and screening potential dates.
An hour or less before any date, you must masturbate, cum and consume your cum. Unless you are in chastity at the time or doing a special assignment for me, assume you have permission to cum in this scenario so you don’t need to ask. However, you should text me and let me know you’ve done it.
No kissing on the first date.
You must wear panties on your first 3 dates.
Text or call me after each date. I don’t expect a report unless I ask but I want to know you’re home safe.
I own your orgasm. If you plan to have sex, you must ask permission.
Ensure she’s clean. ASK.
Use protection during sex.
You can’t take anyone on nicer dates than you take me.
You may not submit to anyone else.
She may not leave any visible marks on you.
You should keep me updated as things progress so that we can decide when it is appropriate for her to learn about your lifestyle and me.
I am your number one priority. I get first dibs on your time.

The idea of the rules isn't to make dating difficult for him, though reading over the rules one might assume that's the case.

Hey, if I'm going to share my toys, it's going to be on my terms.

The soup or the can

2010-10-08T15:18:00.000-07:00

When a man is sick or in pain, it's as if the world is coming to an end. This is a universal truth that no one can argue.

My typical reaction is one of disgust. Perhaps this is because my ex husband's illnesses were never minor. A sniffle was a sinus infection. A cold? Always the flu. He twisted his ankle once but came home with a supposed physician diagnosis of "a severe severe sprain." No, that's not a typo. He actually said "severe severe."

Believe it or not, I do have a nurturing side. And I make damn good chicken noodle soup. The best you've ever had.

So when a man in my life becomes sick or hurt, it's interesting to see how I respond, even to me. I'm usually surprised to see who evokes my nurturing side.

Will I have the urge to make him chicken noodle soup or will I just want to throw the can at him?

When my FMT fell and injured himself a year ago, I made him fresh ice packs and checked his scalp laceration ever so often. I made him take ibuprofen and brought him refreshments. Then, after he mentioned going to the ER three or four times, I began to get annoyed.

But when my cutie consort was sick recently, I found myself wanting to make him chicken noodle soup. This surprised me. I mean, I enjoy him a lot but we haven't been seeing each other long enough for him to evoke my nurturing instincts, I'd think.

Then again, my ex husband didn't make me want to nurture him AT ALL and we were married for years.

When I commented on this to my sub recently, he asked me, "So do I get the soup or the can?"

"You get soup in a dog dish in the floor."

His reply? "Well at least it's soup and not dog food."

My boy, my cutie consort

2010-10-08T15:16:00.000-07:00

D/s relationship status: none

Relationship status: dated briefly

My cutie consort and I connected on a vanilla dating website where he'd contacted me hoping I'd be more sensitive to him being bisexual because I am also bi. In that regard, we're very much alike. We both enjoy physical relationships with the same sex but seek a more traditional heterosexual relationship with our primary partner. We began dating in August of 2010 and are enjoyed getting to know each other while we dated briefly.

In addition to being bisexual, my cutie consort has a bit of a kinky side. He's intrigued with BDSM and has engaged in a few activites that pique his interest. He was eager to learn more and more than a willing pupil. I didn't seek to dominate him in a traditional D/s fashion but had looked forward to topping him and co-topping with him.

My boy, my (former) sub aka nodder

2010-10-08T15:08:00.000-07:00

D/s relationship status: former submissive, currently play partners

Relationship status: dated formerly, currently friends

It took my (former) sub six months to earn the nickname 'nodder.' Prior to making me cum with a nod and earning that nickname, I'd simply referred to him as 'my sub' or 'my (fomer) sub.' He's originally from the northeast and is in his mid thirties. He's an experienced submissive who enjoyed just about any kind of humiliation I can throw at him. He contacted me in early September of 2010 at a time when I'd pretty much given up on finding a good sub. He charmed me with his incredible wit as well as his sincerity and I enjoyed time with him whether he was on his knees before me or not. We playing somewhat casually during much of the nine months we were together and attempted a monogamous relationship towards the end. We're currently play partners.

Read blogs about my (former) sub aka nodder.

Sir, please get on your hands and knees - by last ass bender

2010-09-20T21:51:00.000-07:00

One of my twitter followers, @LastAssBender, contacted me to let me know how inspired he was by my blog, Smart Boys with Waxed Assholes. I hope you enjoy this story about his adventures in waxing. - Mistress Lilyana

I am a straight guy in my mid twenties. Like most men I know, I am pretty demanding in my job, I am tough, I don't overdo it, it is just the way I am. I am a man's man.

But about five years ago, I had a Brazilian girlfriend, who got me drunk and touched my ass in a way no woman has ever touched it before. And since then I have been a changed man. Since then I have been bending my ass to women I have loved and adored. Since then I have become more and more submissive in the bedroom and behind closed doors.

Six months ago, my girlfriend and I broke up after a year of dating. To date, this has been the most sexually submissive in a relationship, one that saw many sexual experiments and pushed further my limits.

After the break-up, I will admit, I have been feeling the withdrawal symptoms of the sexual humiliation. I had never felt this before, not after the termination of other relationships that involved that kind of play. But now, I feel like a ravaged dog, who can't have enough.

So a couple of months ago I go on twitter, discovering this new tool of socializing, and I start following many people, and among which one stuck out, Mistress Lilyana. I started reading her blog and I thought, this is the kind of domination I like, perhaps not the forced bi stuff, but I am truly digging this!

Then one day, she posted something, something that made me shiver and drool. Her Smart Boys with Waxed Assholes just triggered a buried desire in me. I recalled when my ex-girlfriend asked me several times to get a "deep bikini waxing" and I adamantly refused even though secretly I have masturbated about her request hundreds of times.

Reading Mistress Lilyana's blog made me realize that I had to do it, at least for myself. So one morning I mustered up the courage and decided to start calling local waxing places.

Some of the responses I got were so humiliating, maybe not in what was said but the change in the tone of voice was enough to make me wish I had never called, but I continued calling. Finally, I found a place that heard my manly voice and said yes we can give you an appointment. I was ecstatic!

The next day, I left work, got in my car and rushed to my 5:30 PM appointment. I got to the place, parked the car and sat there for a minute. I had second thoughts, doubts and fears. Somehow I mustered enough courage to go in.

I walked in and was greeted by the receptionist who asked me if I had an appointment. I gave her the time of the appointment and the name of the woman who was supposed to rid me of my pubic hairs. She seemed confused but not too concerned.

My humiliator came along and looked at me and in broken English loudly announced, "No! I cannot do this! I only wax women." The entire place stopped, turned and looked at us. I ran out.

Driving my car away I was so angry and felt emotions beyond humiliation. Surprisingly enough, I was now more determined to get this done so I got on my phone and started checking listings. Along the search I saw a listing for a place that offered "Male deep bikini waxing." I called them and asked if I could come in immediately.

25 minutes later I walked into the salon where three women are sitting casually reading magazines. They glanced at me without much interest and went back to the fashion tips and the dieting suggestions. It was only when the young Indian woman that ran the place came out of the operations room and said, "You must be the guy who called for the bikini waxing," that their eyes lit up with curiosity. I tried to ignore it. Maybe it was partially in my head.

I walked in the room where the lady asked me to get undressed, bottomless and keep my shirt on. After she left, I took off my jeans and my boxers and lay down on the bench bare to the world. Then she came back into the room.

"So what are we doing today?"

"I … would like to get waxed"

"Well, do want just your bikini area? Do you want a deep waxing? No legs or arms?"

"No just the bikini area, but what is the deep waxing? Sorry it is my first time."

"Oh, that's ok. Deep is when we get deep between your cheeks."

"Ahh, yeah let's do deep." (Secretly I wanted to say, "Can we just do deep over and over?")

She started off with the pelvic area, then the penis and the balls. Let me tell you, there is nothing erotic about it. It was so painful. She kept making small talk and I tried to respond between my clinches. I could tell she chuckled every time I would be mid response and she would yank that strip.

"Next time try to trim your hair a little bit, it will hurt less."

"Oh yeah? (clinch) Is that why it is hurting so much?"

"Well, yes and no, its also because you have sensitive skin and you seem like a cry baby."(giggles)

"Oh, I guess I don't take pain too well, especially down there."

"You will get used to it. I am assuming this won't be your last time."

"I don't know." (clinch)

"It won't be, I don't think. Most guys come the first time, they leave mortified because of the pain and then they come back. It just feels so good and clean you know?" (yank)

After a few torturous minutes, my cock and balls were as hairless as young boy's private parts. Now came the really humiliating part.

"Ok, we are done with the front. Now I need you to get on your hands and knees."

"Ok."

"Excellent. I need you to put your face down on the pillow and lift your behind up in the air. Also, I need you to use your hands to spread your cheeks."

"Like that?"

"Yes, just try to spread it further."

And here I was, face on a pillow, on my knees, bottomless with arms reaching back to spread my ass to a woman that I have never met that was about to wax my asshole.

She proceeded to do her job, placing hot wax all over my ass and I couldn't help to be a bit turned on. I tried so hard to focus on not getting hard and I did not. Then in the midst of the small talk she said something that I never expected to her.

"Huh, now if I see you on the street I will not recognize you. You will have to bend over for me to know who you are."

I was shocked, ridiculed and did not know what to say. So I just laughed.

I was so sore. I put on my clothes and went out to the register in the lobby where there were women waiting their turns to get waxed.

"Ok, that will be $XXX. You will need to rub the waxed area with lots of coconut oil to remove the excess wax and to sooth it a bit, since it is your first time and all."

I looked around and saw her clients staring at me, at us, hearing her words to me awaiting my response. I was frozen and for once in my life so shy in a public situation.

"Alright then, I will book you for your next waxing in 4-5 weeks. You don't want the hair down there to get too long or else it will hurt as much as this time."

I just nodded my head in agreement.

Smart boys with waxed assholes

2010-06-30T08:37:00.000-07:00

Two nights ago I had a conversation with babyboy that reminded me why I enjoy intelligent boys above all else. They are feisty. They are a challenge. And they are never boring.

Below is our IM chat history about the Brazilian I have planned for him.

Me: I wonder if you'll scream when the guy waxes you. Your asshole that is.
babyboy: the guy?
Me: The waxer. He's male.
babyboy: on come on, cant you have a woman do it?
Me: I suppose I could but he comes recommended.
babyboy: lol...how so?
Me: He does 10 - 15 male Brazilians a week The guy at the salon I called says he sends all his male Brazilians there. To this one guy.
babyboy: you want me on all 4s, while a guy puts wax on my ass and balls?
Me: Or whatever position he wants you in.
babyboy: youre so bad.
Me: You have no idea.
babyboy: that would be very fucking humiliating...
Me: Oh really? Would it? I had no idea.
babyboy: uh huh...lol
Me: I can't wait!
Me: His name is Richard
Me: He was very nice over the phone.
babyboy: fucking a ...you're mean ... cruel ... wonderful.

I tell him the name of the salon and where it's located.

babyboy: i know the place... i was staring at the sign, while i was running on the treadmill...
Me: Well there's a guy in there who is going to rip all the hair off your asshole and balls.
Me: I want you to think of 6 questions you can ask him about the procedure or aftercare that you can ask before the procedure.
babyboy: like what?
Me: LOL. It's YOUR assignment baby. You figure it out. I'll want to see them before we go. So you might want to write them down as you think of them.
babyboy: yes Miss, i imagine, youll be watching it.
Me: Of course I will. And listening to you ask 6 questions about it :D
babyboy: lol...
Me: At least I'm not telling you what to ask. However, if I don't find your own questions to be intelligent, I may replace them with my own.
babyboy: im going to be an attorney, i can come up with very benign questions... whats the temp of the wax, will it hurt, how long will it take to grow back, how long does the precedure take, whats your experience level, and whats your name.
Me: LOL. Maybe 10 questions would be better.
babyboy: how long have you lived in vegas, where did you go to beauty school at, do you get paid by the hr or commision, are tips allowed?
Me: LMAO. Damn. YOU are not playing fair.
babyboy: im good at this...
Me: But ok. I'll give you credit. Damn. A challenge. I love it.
babyboy: i can keep going.. come on....im good stuff like that...i have lots of game.
Me: Clearly. What are 3 questions you could ask him that would humiliate you? Without doing so to him.
babyboy: wouldnt you be more suited to think of them? because i can pose questions, which could be humiliating but, really arent.
Me: It's hot when remind me you're intelligent, I must say. I want you so badly at my feet right now
babyboy: lol....thank you.
babyboy: im good at this stuff though.....my bread and butter.
Me: 3 questions that would honestly humiliate you and not him.
babyboy: should i cut and paste, what i just wrote...the point is a bit moot. dont you think?
Me: I'm asking you to be honest with me
babyboy: what would you like to hear......do you want me on all 4s sir, will you be bleaching my ass, too......if i get hard, will you be mad....
Me: Would that do it for you?
babyboy: my cock did just get alittle semi...

His last proposed question, "If I get hard, will you be mad?" was my favorite because it sounds SO submissive.

babyboy: what would you do, if that actually happened? if I got hard?
Me: LMAO. What do you think?
babyboy: im sure you would fucking love it.
Me: I would

My poly partners' other partners

2010-06-24T09:32:00.000-07:00

Being poly, embracing polyamory, is still quite new to me so a lot of what I'm encountering as I sort through poly relationships with my partners is new.

What's new and even more unexpected is the fact that I'm sorting through the poly relationships my partners are having with others too.

During the short time I was with 9, we'd established that we were to be each other's primary partners and that we'd pursue other relationships outside that. These were to be primarily D/s relationships since we were both Dominant and topping each other was not an option.

9 decided to consider a femsub he'd previously dated and actually brought into the lifestyle years ago. We talked extensively about this. I urged him to be clear with her so that she understood what he wanted from her. I didn't want her to mistakenly think that there was a long term relationship in their future when he wanted her friendship and submission only.

I didn't want to be involved in direct communication with her. I just thought this was between them. Fairly quickly though I was sucked into being friends with her and I found it more pleasant than I anticipated. She did understand her "place" in things but still had lots of questions about how this poly relationship would work. I think the ease of which she was handling things surprised even her and was mostly because she liked me.

Had things worked out, I'm not sure where things would have gone with 9's sub and me. But after 9 walked away from me, her and the lifestyle altogether, 9's sub and I were left to scratch our heads and wonder what the fuck happened. Together.

In the week since the break up, we've grown quite close. As different as our relationships were with 9, there are similarities and it's weird but nice we can help each other through this. At the same time, it's distracted me somewhat from my own process of getting through the breakup.

In many ways, her attachment is so much stronger due to the past they shared. I diagnosed her early after they breakup as having an addiction to Man Crack, with 9 being her drug of choice. So I've spent a lot of time helping her through all of this much in the way you'd help a friend whose boyfriend dumped them. Only it was MY boyfriend who dumped her.

With another poly partner, I've spent some time coaching his prospective poly partner. I've answered questions and tried to give examples that might make sense.

He's already got a primary partner. I went into things with him knowing that wouldn't change, not even trying to seek a relationship with him and then being a little surprised to find myself in one.

I look at what we have now much like friends with benefits with a deeper connection. He won't ever be my primary partner. I'm not sad about this and am happy to enjoy him just as he is.

I suppose this was easier for me because I am polyamorous. For his other poly partner, it has not been.

As we've gotten to know each other, she and I have grown into a real friendship. We have a lot in common so it's been easy to enjoy getting to know each other. Still, I steered clear of talking to her about their relationship. I knew she had real concerns about engaging in a polyamorous relationship but I refrained from talking about her relationship with him, and my relationship with him, until she was ready.

When she did want to talk about it, I found it difficult to navigate the subject without stomping on the land mines. I tried not to use my relationship with him as an example and tried not to go into too much detail.
I tried to be a friend without meddling, but occasionally the craziness of what I was doing struck me and I almost had to laugh. I was helping a guy I adore get another girl. And I was helping that girl understand why she could and should be with that guy.

Compersion is a beautiful, beautiful thing.

I am not his primary partner. I'm not setting rules. And she's not his submissive. My role is simply to be his friend. Now, I'm hers because of that. And the fact that I adore her.

Perhaps I'm lucky that in both situations, my poly partners' other partners are women I adore.
Maybe I should just chalk it up to the fact that I happen to choose men who have excellent taste in women.

The questions I ask boys

2010-06-22T14:14:00.000-07:00

With the number of guys I screen, for the position of submissive as well as that of my boyfriend, you'd think I have a set of standard questions I ask. An interview process.

I do not.

I tend to let the get to know each other thing unfold naturally. Truth be told, I enjoy seeing what kind of initiative a guy will take in asking me things. It's often a good indicator of his level of interest in me. The types of questions he asks also tells me if he's interested in me for more than just sex and/or my Domme skills.

I do pepper the conversation with casual questions of my own. I ask about their family, in particular about their nieces and nephews and how close they are with them. I ask them to tell me about their best friend. And from these types of questions I can learn how much (or little) he values relationships.

There are others I ask that help me determine if our likes/dislikes might mesh well. They're probably the same questions asked all over the world in various languages by people trying to get to know one another.

My current favorite question to ask is "What kind of porn do you watch?"

Let's face it. Everyone watches porn. But the style of porn that you choose is very telling.

I recently asked this of a guy I grew up with and reconnected with a few years ago. He knows I'm Dominant. He's one of three people I grew up with that know. I've suspected that beneath his tough guy exterior was a boy who was submissive in the bedroom even though he's never hinted at any submissive like fantasies. I suspected because I saw his interactions with his ex wife. I've also seen indications in his writing when he describes his ideal relationship.

This guy and I have known each other probably 27 years. We're closer now that we ever were before but it's almost familial.

So we're talking about porn one night and I ask this guy, this man who is like a brother to me, "What kind of porn do you watch?"

Without hesitation he answers, "CFNM and the ones where the guy gets taken while he's sleeping."

I burst out laughing. First, he has stunned me by using the term CFNM (clothed female nude male). Of course I know what it means but I dare say most men do not. Secondly, he has confirmed what I've suspected; that he's sexually submissive.

I told him this. He admitted it's probably true in a non-begrudging way. And now he calls me Mistress.

My old favorite question was "Describe your bed linens to me." I ask this question for a few reasons. First, it gives me an idea of how much they value the comfort of their bed. I also enjoy seeing how they describe their sheets. Do they know the thread count? Can they articulate the color better than simply blue or green? Lastly, I enjoy being able to picture them in their bed when I'm talking to them. Or tied to it anyway. Having a description of a boy's bed linens helps in this endeavor.

A few times I've be surprised with the answers. The 40-something cable guy with the black silk sheets, for instance.

I recently asked this of a local Dom friend of mine. "Blood red, 350 thread count, Italian cotton."

I was instantly wet. "That's hot." He knew his thread count, he described the color precisely. Hell he even knew where the cotton came from. Hotness.

"Silk is overrated. Rubber is too hot. Flannel is awesome. And a huge feather mattress and feather comforter."

Yum. I love it when a man cares about his bed. That means he'll care about taking care of me while I'm in it.

Show me that you love me. Or my blog.

2010-06-15T22:26:00.000-07:00

Nominations are now open for the Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2010. If you enjoy my blog, please go to this link and post a link to my blog in the comments. That nominates my blog for Sexiest Bloggers of 2010. And makes me feel loved.

Horoscopes

2010-06-15T01:17:00.000-07:00

9 broke things off this morning. He has reconnected with an ex girlfriend he still has feelings for and wants to pursue things with her. She's not poly or in the lifestyle so he feels he needs to walk away from me and the lifestyle in order to be with her.

To an extent, I understand this. I've recently reconnected with my FMT, the vanilla guy I dated off and on last year. I had intended to explore things with him even before 9 broke things off so I totally get that he feels the same. I wouldn't have ended things with 9 to do it, but I didn't have to. Having an open relationship allows you certain flexibilities like that.

But back to this morning.

I was stunned that less than a week after we declared ourselves in an open relationship 9 was breaking things off. Immediately after our conversation, one of my main thoughts was "I don't want to be alone right now." Some people need to be alone in times like this. I need people.

I knew my FMT wasn't working. I called him up and asked him if I could spend the day with him. He agreed.

It was a dangerous idea. It was reckless and I knew it and I went there anyway. When we were together our chemistry was epic and I correctly assumed it hadn't diminished sufficiently in the five months we've been apart so of course we ended up in bed.

But alas, this blog is NOT about hot reunion sex with my FMT. It's about horoscopes.

I hadn't been there long when my FMT told me to check the newspaper for his horoscope.

"You're not going to believe what it said," he told me.

I fumbled through the paper until I found it:

Don't be surprised if a close friend expects both moral and material support from you because clearly owe him/her that much. Do what you can on his/her behalf.

I looked up and him with big eyes, "Oh my God." Then I laughed, "YES you totally DO owe me!"

"Yes, I know," my FMT admitted. Part of the reason he wanted to reconnect with me was to apologize for the way he treated me while we together, in particular, for our break up.

Then I joked, "Damn I should be asking you for money too!"

Then I found mine:

Finding time to spend with someone you've been yearning to see might unexpectedly open up for you. However, you might still have to make some fancy excuses to take advantage of it.

"Holy shit that's creepy!" We both laughed.

"YEARNING to see, Lilyana? Have you been YEARNING to see me?" my FMT joked, never missing an opportunity to harass me.

"Oh whatever," I tried to laugh it off. Then only slightly more seriously, "You already knew I wanted to see you."

It appears the stars were aligned perfectly for my FMT and I to spend time together today. On the heels of a break up with 9, one might even go so far as to say it's some kind of sign my FMT and I should be together.

Nah.

I'm grateful we've reconnected. I'm grateful he was there for me today as a friend. I'm super grateful for the hot reunion sex.

What does the future hold for my FMT and me? We've settled on a FWB (friends with benefits) relationship. It's worked for us before. But will it work for us again? Only the stars know.

And don't think I won't be checking my horoscope every day

Sex with a sadist

2010-06-14T01:26:00.000-07:00

9 enjoys nibbling. Actually, he enjoys biting, but he knows better than to REALLY bite me.

Still, he gets a bit carried away with it occasionally and provokes an audible response from me. Yes, I can admit it. 9 makes me squeal sometimes.

He seems to enjoy making me squeal. Relishes it. My squeals make him chuckle. My squeals make his cock hard.

I don’t know why this surprises me. I really don’t. I should know better. He's a Dom, I'm a Domme and really, what else makes me hotter than making a sub gasp, moan, squeal or even scream?

No, I’m not submitting to 9. I’m not even bottoming. In fact, we steer clear of D/s play altogether. Or as much as two skilled Dominants can, I suppose. Even as careful as we are to avoid trying to avoid topping each other, elements of our Dominance seep into our vanilla sex. I chronicled my own in my blog, Using my skills. 9 jokes a lot about topping me but his biting is the first real evidence I’ve noted that indicates there are elements of his Dominance he may be unable to contain while he’s with me.

Like me (probably more so), 9 is hardwired to be sadist; to enjoy someone else's pain, particularly pain he inflicts on others. It’s the fact that he’s enjoying MINE that is surprising to me, I suppose. I’m used to being the one relishing my partner’s reaction to pain.

One year

2010-05-19T10:38:00.000-07:00

Last month marked the 1 year anniversary of me being on Twitter. This month will be the anniversary of my blog. It's not necessarily a reason to celebrate but it has made me reflect.

One year ago I wasn't "out." I hadn't attended a munch, an erotic rope bondage class, a play party, anything.

Now I'm a regular in the Vegas kink community. I'm on the Board of Directors for Reverse Tensionz. I've attended one of the hottest, kinkiest, sex filled parties in town and several other lifestyle and fetish events. Moreover, I'm comfortable at these events and sincerely enjoy the company of like-minded kinksters.

One year ago I had maybe two or three friends in the lifestyle. Sure I had a few open minded nillas in my life, but no one I was close to could really identify with what I was dealing with as I found my place in the lifestyle. In addition to not having a close, understanding person with whom I could share this, I could claim not one single interaction with another female dominant. Not one.

Now I call many kinksters my friends, in Las Vegas and all over the country. My circle of friends now includes porn stars, fetish models and other sex workers. I've also met some of the top erotic rope bondage people in the country.

Yes, my circle of kinky friends is indeed more extensive. But I would be remiss if I didn't mention that I now know several female Dominants, some of whom I've met on Twitter. I even call one of them my bestie.

From my Domme BFF I've learned so much about the lifestyle. Having someone with which to collaborate on the many ways to torture boys has been wonderful. And while we celebrate all of the joys and compare notes on boys under consideration, we also commiserate on all of our challenges too.

One year ago I didn't recognize I'm polyamorous. I say RECOGNIZE because I surely have been poly for a while. However, I hadn't had any exposure to others who embraced their polyamory so I just assumed I had a different outlook on life and love and sex that didn't include jealousy.

Now I recognize I'm polyamorous and am completely open and up front about it with those with whom I choose to get involveds. I no longer think about finding THE ONE or Mr. Right and worry he won't be everything I need in real life AND in the bedroom. I also look at others who believe solely in monogamy and wish they'd open their minds a bit. I've found that when you set aside everything you've learned about monogamy being the "right" way, life is so much simpler.

One year ago I'd given up on dating vanilla guys, just after I began dating my pseudo-vanilla FMT. One year ago we were dating but not exclusive. It was about one year ago that he'd said if we did date seriously, I'd have to give up "all my other guys."

Now my FMT and I are no longer together. We dated a full year and our relationship evolved as did his feelings about monogamy and my domming. He was literally the only vanilla guy I dated up until recently, and he truly changed my outlook on things.

You could argue that I shouldn't be dating anyone not in the lifestyle, but dating my FMT showed me there are, in fact, open minded vanilla guys out there who would be OK with me continuing to dom other guys. And that I don't have to dominate a guy in order to date them. He also taught me that topping vanilla boys can be fun, particularly tying them up.

Dating submissives has been challenging in many ways, and in others, not challenging enough. I've always gravitated to submissives who are Dominant in their vanilla lives. The more Dominant they are in real life, the hotter it is for me.

Lately I'm finding myself drawn to lifestyle Doms, too. They challenge me in every way and I find I also enjoy connecting and collaborating with them about D/s. Doms seem to "get" me in ways no one else does probably because our mindset is so similar. The fact that they feed my top fantasy doesn't hurt.

One year ago I'd tried domming a female. I'd found it hot but recognized I had no driving desire to have females submit to me.

Earlier this year I had a female submissive who was easily the best submissive I've had so far. Adjusting my style for a woman wasn't nearly as challenging as I'd imagined it would be. I also really enjoyed the major benefits of getting my dose of girl more frequently. And playing with her is way off the hotness meter.

However, I've discovered that I find play with boys more intoxicating and intellectually gratifying. In the future, I'll still consider exceptional females that cross my path but I've recently grown to understand that domming male subs is what best satisfies my D/s cravings.

One year ago I'd begun to embrace my inner sadist. Through my play with my Dom friend, I'd found an enormous and inexplicable joy in hurting his cock and balls and discovered fun ways to inflict CBT. With him, I'd also just experienced my first impact play outside of spanking.

Although I'm still more sensual than sadistic, my inner sadist isn't shy at all about coming out to play now. I continued to play games with pain on my Dom friend until he moved and then I branched out to hone my skills on subs who were new to me.

In fact, I've become somewhat of an expert at converting boys who aren't into pain into pain sluts. They WANT to take pain from me to please me and I discovered that in mixing pain and pleasure, I can train them to desire both. I've also discovered it's hotter to convert a boy into a pain slut than it is to find one aching for my physical brutality.

On the topic of finding new boys, I won't list the number of boys I've talked to or even just the ones I've considered over the past year. To do so would be monumentally depressing. The good news is that now I'm much more efficient with the process and drastically better at being able to determine which boys are truly submissive, which are bottoms and which are merely kinky.

One year ago I still worried what people thought about me and my dominance. I wondered if showing my sensitive side and revealing my flaws would diminish my dominance. I was myself anyway, but I wondered what others thought.

Now I don't care. I celebrate my sensitivity and my flaws and have no qualms sharing my challenges, even my dating challenges, or my feelings through my tweets and my blogs. I make the best blond brownies ever and there are times when I've been addicted to a man. I don't mind revealing these things mainly because I know it doesn't diminish my dominance to do so.

Over the past year, I've begun to settle into my dominance. I know without a doubt this is who I am and exactly where I'm supposed to be. I love the thrill of being Dominant and know it's something I can't live without.

Dangerous curves

2010-05-16T14:35:00.000-07:00

Three times in the past nine months a guy I've been intimate with has pulled a muscle while he was with me.

I was recounting this phenomenon to a friend when he said, "I'm all for rough sex but you sound dangerous."

Here's the funny part. One guy strained his back while making out with me. We weren't even having sex, rough or otherwise.

Admittedly, the other two were injured in the throes of sex I'd characterize as fun. I still wouldn't call it rough though.

I'm a sadist. I'm pretty sure that fact is well documented already. However, I didn't engage in any S&M activities with any of these three guys. I didn't cane them or paddle them. Nothing.

In fact, of the boys who have experienced my sadistic side, none have ever complained about the pain I inflicted. Not at all like these three guys.

From this I can state two pieces of advice, though it should be rather obvious, I'd think.

One, perhaps you should be in better shape if you want to hang with me. You can't be injuring yourself from playing with me unless you want to get redshirted.

Two, you should probably not tell a sadist like me that you hurt yourself getting frisky with me unless you fully comprehend how much I'm going to savor your pain and tease you mercilessly because of it.

Using my skills

2010-05-13T08:42:00.000-07:00

I'm seeing a Dom now. Romantically, not for ass beatings. And no, he hasn't convinced me to submit to him.

It's been interesting, to be sure, as we are both very secure and comfortable in our dominance and neither of us is in the least bit intimidated by the other.

I love that.

It should be no surprise that I'd be attracted to a Dom. Even when I choose subs they're typically dominant in their vanilla lives. I've had three subs that were active Doms, including my very first sub. I'm attracted to strength and power. What can I say?

The first occasion 9 and I spent time together, there was some playful ass swatting going on outside the bedroom but no real D/s play. We didn't try to top one another in any kind of forceful way in the bedroom either.

The truth is, I don't desire his submission. Would it be hot for me? Fuck yeah! But I enjoy him the way he is. And I enjoy not having to always be in charge when I'm around him.

He was as respectful of me, my dominance and my expressed desire not to be topped as I was of his.

Well mostly. Old habits die hard.

I enjoy edging and using my mad oral skills to edge a guy over and over. I've often joked over the past year that I'm not sure that I remember how to get a guy to cum from oral stimulation because I have been perfecting my edging skills for so long.

I'm sure there are Dommes out there that refuse to go down on a guy but I adore the kind of control I have when I have a guy's cock in my mouth. I just do. I love exacting each and every reaction: the sighs, the moans, the panting. I take my time and enjoy feeling his excitement build. And then I enjoy stopping him right at the precipice of that excitement and seeing the look in his eyes as he feels his opportunity to cum slip away.

So last Friday night I was demonstrating my oral skills on a boy ... er ... a man, actually. This particular man is not used to being teased and denied. Damn Doms. They usually get what they want, right?

Hehehe!

I leisurely and thoroughly sucked his gorgeous cock as we watched a movie in no rush at all. Slowly the tension built to the point he was ready to cum and I stopped it. Once. Twice. And by the third time, moaning in frustration as I tried not to chuckle, 9 was onto me.

"Whatever do you mean?" I asked, batting my eyelashes before taking his dripping cock back into my mouth eliciting another deep sigh from 9.

I edged him four times and I'm quite certain he'll never ever forget it. He's mentioned it at least daily since it happened. And each time I smile at the memory and how cute he is to keep bringing it up.

Today he was complimenting me again on my oral skills. "You could suck start a Harley."

I laughed and started to thank him but he interrupted me. "No wait. You wouldn't suck start the Harley. You'd suck it to the point it was almost started and then you'd stop. And then you'd suck it again until it almost started but then you wouldn't let it start."

I remind him each time he mentions me edging him about how lucky he is that he's not my sub. At least his Harley has a pretty good chance of getting started.

My boy, 9

2010-05-13T00:49:00.000-07:00

D/s relationship status: inactive Dom (just not mine)

Relationship status: formerly dated, open relationship

9 is the ninth and final guy with the same name I'm going to date. This is it. I refuse to go into double digits. Since things didn't work out, guys with this name are now officially on my hard limits list. Read "The story of 6 and 7" for more information.

9 resides in Florida and was an active Dom with a reputation as being very sadistic. We enjoyed sharing ideas for torturing subs but we never engaged in any real D/s play with each other.

We were introduced by a mutual friend and immediately connected. Due to the 2039 miles separating us, we didn't get to spend as much time together as we'd have liked while we were dating but but we enjoyed each other immensely. We're currently friends.

Read blogs about 9

Too lazy to proofread, too lazy to be MY sub

2010-04-10T01:12:00.000-07:00

Sometimes checking my collarme mail can be down right entertaining. Below is the profile of a potential who messaged me as well as our correspondences. I've bolded the worst grammar transgressions.

Hello everyone i hope you are all doing well. please read my full profile.

i am [potential sub's username] and i am a submissive. i have been in this lifestyle since 2006 . i do not have much experience but i am willing to learn and grow. my goal is to find a domme or couple that i can serve and learn from and make happy and be theres. i am looking for a loving caring domme or couple, someone who is not to strict. i am not looking to give up all my freedoms hence me being a submissive not a slave. maybe one day down the road i will be ready to become a slave if i find that special domme or couple i am willing to give up everything for..

i am willing to travel to find a domme or couple and meet them . i am also willing to pay for them to come visit me if need be. i am very kind, caring, smart, obedient. i am a quick learner and a gentleman. i am good at house work. cleaning, laundry, gardening, wood work, computers, cooking, i am learning to give good messages.

if i send a message please respond either way weather you are interested or not. also if i unsend a message its becuase i didnt like what i wrote and i am thinking of something better to write. i am very picky about what i say and write. i am trying to be a better writer
more to come

Messages exchange through collarme:

potential sub on 4/9/10 at 10:01 AM:
Hello ma'am how are you doing today. i hope you are having a good day and continue to and i also hope you have a good weekend. i hope we can talk if possible. I am always looking for more friends and i am very interested in talking to you and getting to know you.I am also very very very interested in talking to you about possibly being your submissive

MistressLilyana on 4/9/10 at 10:11 AM:
I'm not interested but wish you luck in your search.

potential sub on 4/9/10 at 10:12 AM:
may i ask why you arnt interested

MistressLilyana on 4/9/10 at 10:19 AM:
Well since you asked, you state in your profile you're smart, then you proceed to misspell and misuse multiple words. I realize everyone makes typos, but there are enough to make me think you're either not as intelligent as you think or you're careless. Either are turn offs for me. I do wish you the best of luck in your search though. You'll find someone. I'm just not the right one of you.

potential sub on 4/9/10 at 10:23 AM:
well to me that is not a good enough reason. people make more typos on computers especialy when they are typing fast like i am and doing a school project at the same time but if that is how you think i wish you the best of luck. may i say thought that if you have alot of small things like this that prevent you from finding someone then you should rethink everything and maybe shorten the list of what turns you off as everyone makes typos and has small problems

MistressLilyana on 4/9/10 at 8:42 PM:
The right guy for me will think enough about me to proofread his messages to me. The right woman for you won't care. Thanks for the feedback.

potential sub on 4/9/10 at 9:22 PM:
lol well see thats the problem people dont proof read alot and most of the time its spell check if they want to.. people are lazy these days in many ways

MistressLilyana on 4/10/10 at 0:18 AM:
Thanks for making my point. I don't want a sub that is too lazy to proof his communications. That means he's lazy in other areas, or as you say, in many ways.

I know your jaw is on the floor as you read my responses. You're probably thinking I'm way too nice. I always try to be respectful because you just never know when someone you meet online will get upset with you and go all stalker on you.

Still, you never know when I'll snap on one of these obnoxious idiots one day. So if you have a collarme profile, for goodness sake, check it for grammar errors. Show the Dominants you contact a little respect and take a few seconds to proof your messages too.

The hottest moment - by sindi

2010-04-08T21:03:00.000-07:00

Although I am completely bi-sexual, I have not had a lot of bi-sexual experience. In fact, it has only been in the last three years that I really began to explore the lesbian side of my sexuality, and only in the last year that I finally made it happen.

So, my Mistress, along with gaining whatever benefits there are to having a sub who is brand new to BDSM, also gets the benefits of having a sub who is somewhat virgin to lesbian sex.

All of this takes us to a text conversation I recently had with my Mistress while driving back to Arizona.

Fresh from several hot sessions with her, my mind was rolling over the various scenarios we have already played out in our three-month relationship.

“What’s the hottest thing you have done with me?” I asked her, via text.

“Well, edging you 10 times was pretty hot,” she text back. “What about you?”

“I’m not saying. LOL,” I replied.

If you have followed my Mistress’s blog, you will know that we have a pretty casual D/s relationship in which joking around is highly encouraged.

However, this time, my Mistress was not in a joking mood, and I failed to pick up on that vibe in our written communication.

After she attempted several times to get me to divulge my secret, and I cutely, (I thought) evaded giving it up to her, she cut the game short.

“So, you are refusing to tell me?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Because if I tell you, you will never do it again.”

That last comment resulted in an explosion of texts on my cell phone, as my Mistress lashed out at me for not being open with her.

She immediately forbade me from speaking to her for a full 36 hours, torture for any sub, but especially a Mistress Lilyana sub, as communication - and daily entertainment - is always a continuum.

When we finally spoke again, after the 36 hour period, I explained to her that I had thought that I was actually complementing her with my comments, and meant no disrespect to her what-so-ever.

Because it was important to me to explain my feelings correctly, we decided that I would reveal my secret hottest moment to her and her readers by blog. So here it is ...

It wasn’t the smothering. No, when she shoved my face into her wet pussy, sadistically pulling my hair as she moaned in pleasure, that was not the hottest moment.

Although she would later tell me it was one of her favorite moments - in particular my whimpering and my occasional, desperate, gasps for air while I tried to remain focused on licking her correctly. That pleased her, she told me.

It wasn’t the edging. Yes, she edged me 10 times with a Hitachi before finally allowing my aching pussy intense release. It was an exceptional experience, and my hat is off to Japanese technology, but, it was not the hottest moment.

It was not the figging.

“It’s starting to burn Mistress,” I had told her, confused about what was happening within my ass, which she had just stuffed with an object that was unknown to me.

“What is the problem?” she coyly asked me, fully aware of what I had said, as she knew the effect the ginger root produced.

“It feels hot Mistress,” I whimpered, before she proceeded to whip my ass to a bruising I had not yet experienced in our play.

No. That was not it.

It was not the clothespins. Gagged and tied to a bench in my hotel room, she lifted me to the highest levels of sub space, and actually produced my tears as, one-by-one, she clipped a whole set of clothespins to my pussy, nipples and other tender spots, before ripping them all off at once. The pain was intense. That was not the moment.

But the tying and binding was something else.

I learned early on, well immediately, really, of my Mistress’s skills with rope.

Less than three hours after we met for the first time - and one hour after she took the liberty of planting a full mouth kiss on me in front of everyone at the Vegas lounge where we had our first date - my Mistress was tying my body spread-eagle to a bed in a stylish downtown hotel room.

As with any good Mistress, she was prepared to play.

I watched wide-eyed as she pulled out a pair of scissors from her bag, cut off my panties, and quickly fashioned them into a blindfold that she tied around my head.

I felt her strength as she held my hands down to where she wanted them, and began to kiss my mouth for a very long time. She pulled the panty blindfold down, gagging my mouth with it as she worked her way down my nude body. Then she consumed me.

The sensation was overload. I had only received oral sex from one other girl before, and my Mistress' velvet tongue showed no mercy as she dug into my flesh like the experienced bisexual woman she is.

The fact that the experience was combined with my first full body restraint experience is just magnificent luck, and I know it.

But still, as hot as my first night with Mistress was, it was still, not the hottest moment.

It was not the moment that I had treasured so much, that its secret status with me had ultimately resulted in a 36-hour suspension of our relationship.

No, that cherished moment came during our second visit together, after we had been communicating via text and telephone for about one month.

At that time, I was working to be removed from her “consideration” status, to the role of her full sub. I was still learning all that she expected of me, was busy memorizing her submissive positions, and was basically trying not to fuck up as I did that night when she arrived at my room.

“You are supposed to be kneeling at the door,” she said when I answered the door, nude, as she requested, but standing up.

Later that night, after some light play on her part, and service to her on mine, I lay on the bed waiting for her to return from the restroom.

When she returned she was in a negligee, a giant purple dick swinging in front of her crotch.

“You realize I am about to ruin you for cock,” she told me, just before I sat on the large phallus as she had ordered me to.

“Yes, Mistress,” I replied, guiding the large rubbery dildo into my wet pussy.

I rode her cock hard, occasionally looking down at her and watching as the grinding movement of my hips and pussy began to work her into a frenzy.

Then, it happened.

Pushing me off of her, she ordered me to get on all fours and face the headboard of the bed.

“Put your hands by your ankles,” she instructed me.

I did as she said, and immediately felt the tightening of rope as she bound each of my hands to each ankle with rope cuffs, a special design all her own, leaving me with my head down on the bed, my ass in the air, utterly helpless and exposed to her.

She didn’t waste a second as she forced her large toy cock back into my pussy and proceeded to fuck me like she had been born with a dick.

I listened to her groan, losing herself in pleasure, shoving the cock deep into my pussy as her movements bared down on her clit. At that moment, I realized the sadistic nature of my new Mistress. She was fucking me, and I was an object.

In my bound position, I was completely her fuck toy. A hole for her to fuck, for as long as she wanted to, and an ass to beat if she so desired. And it turned me on, immensely.

Later, I thought of the experience over and over, getting wet every time I did so.

What was it? I wondered, about me, and about her. It wasn’t like I didn’t know she was kinky and sadistic. She is a Mistress, after all. Eventually, I figured it out.

She was truly dominant. I was truly submissive. She had taken me. And it was the hottest moment.

Am I polyamorous?

2010-04-07T02:05:00.000-07:00

I've learned a lot about myself over the past 3 years.

First I learned I am bi sexual. Mmmm that was a deliciously welcome discovery. The thrill I felt when she first said, "I think I might have a crush on you" has evolved into something I enjoy more than I ever imagined.

Then I learned I am Dominant or rather 6 identified it in me and encouraged it. This changed the way I look at men and honestly, life in general.

Both of these things have become an integral part of me.

Lately I've done a lot of introspection trying to figure out who this bi Dominant Lilyana is, how to integrate those aspects of her into her existing life and what will make her happy.

When I consider my future, obviously I don't see myself in a conventional relationship. There will be kinky aspects to be sure, possibly D/s. But lately I'm seeing clear indications that there may be more than one unconventional relationship in my future.

According to alt.polyamory, Polyamory means "loving more than one." This love may be sexual, emotional, spiritual, or any combination thereof, according to the desires and agreements of the individuals involved.

If I consider that definition, I'm definitely poly because even if I find Mr. Right tomorrow, I'll want to keep a female FWB (friends with benefits). Now that I've sampled the deliciousness that is known as woman, I don't think I can go without. And I don't want to always share that with a man, even the elusive Mr. Right.

Is there even a Mr. Right for me? My ONE? I've begun to think maybe there isn't one single person who can satisfy all my intellectual and physical desires, particularly the kinky ones.

I adore submissive men and can easily see having one in my life. At the same time, I'm still thrilled by the type of equal partnership I experienced with my FMT over the year we dated and can easily see a pseudo vanilla guy like him in my life. A consort, if you will.

And then there's the need to have a delicious woman around to satisfy my need for soft yumminess from time to time.

So I'm poly. Simple enough right?

Anyone who is polyamorous will tell you that there are challenges. Relationship challenges, just like any other, certainly, but also challenges regarding how to integrate this lifestyle into your vanilla life. What do you tell and not tell your friends and family? How do you address this with your potential partners? What are the dynamics like when you have multiple partners?

These are all questions I'm asking myself and those I know engaged in the lifestyle. I'm reading and researching and will continue to do so.

What does this change for me right now?

Very little actually. I am dating both vanilla and submissive men and I'm upfront with them about the fact that I'm seeing other men. I also let them know I expect them to be supportive of my kinky endeavors, even if they aren't include in them. So far I've been pleasantly surprised at how easy it has been to find guys, kinky AND vanilla, who are open to this kind of arrangement. Nothing has evolved into a long term relationship yet but I'm hopeful and am willing to be patient.

I have a female sub I also consider my FWB. Although admittedly, no guy has yet to protest this arrangement and I don't anticipate this being an issue.

So basically the only thing that this revelation changed is my outlook on my future. I'm not longer worried about finding my ONE. And I'm no longer worried about whether or not my ONE is submissive or if I need someone I consider my equal as my ONE. This releases me to enjoy the fabulous men and boys (and females) who wander into my life for what they are and what we have together without the pressure of monogamy and "commitment."

Is this really a revelation? Apparently only to me. Upon telling one of my pseudo vanilla best friends, she exclaimed, "Really? Really? How could you not know you're poly! It's like you've been taking all of the classes all along and just never declared your major."

Adventures in butt plug acquisition - Part 3 - by sindi

2010-03-23T15:04:00.000-07:00

The following blog was written by my femsub, sindi, who I often refer to as "the girl." My simple assignment, to buy a butt plug, turned into a hilarious adventure that I felt could be chronicled best by sindi herself. This is part 3 of 3. Be sure to read part 1 and part 2 if you haven't already.

Down to the last few days before my trip to Vegas, I was now desperate to complete my assignment. I was determined not to be a cumboy.

The next day I got an early start on my work day so that I could spend the last part of the day continuing the search. By now, I wasn’t too keen on the idea of settling. If I was going to spend this much time looking for ass adornment for my Mistress, I might as well get the one we both wanted.

I Googled “adult sex toys” along with the name of the Phoenix area I planned to be in, finding a list of three stores highlighted at the top of the list. One was another location of the chain store I had visited the previous day, another was listed as a “Superstore,” and the other was a business with a goofy name like “Sensual Pleasures.”

I plugged all three addresses into my GPS and got rolling. I hit the chain store first. Again, as I walking through the door, a male clerk greeted me with a loud “Hi Honey.”

Wow. What a way to make all your female customers feel like hookers, I thought. The people making up that policy must be the same men who are stocking these stores with small and extra small lingerie.

I walked straight to the butt plug section and perused the selection among a group of men who probably got no greeting at the door at all. Again, there was the same selection of huge plugs in every color imaginable, but no metal plugs, much less jeweled metal ones.

With no time to lose I headed out to the “Superstore” optimistic that I would at least have more of a selection to see there. Thirty minutes later I found myself in a business park, the promising Superstore nowhere to be found, among people who probably wouldn’t know a butt plug if they tripped on one. I called the number and listened to a recording of a man directing customers to the businesses website before hanging up the call. Ugh!

I left and headed to the third address. It was a home in a residential neighborhood. I called the number and got a person’s voicemail on which the speaker mentioned nothing about sex toys. Unbelievable.

For a second I actually contemplated walking up to the door and asking whoever answered if they had any jeweled metal butt plugs for sale. Nah.

Frustrated, I Googled stores in the entire Phoenix metropolitan area. My search turned up a store near the ritzy Scottsdale area that I had not seen before. Of course! If any store was going to sell booty bling, it would be for all those rich assholes in Scottsdale, Arizona, literally speaking of course.

I called the number. When the girl answered I blurted out, “Do you have the jeweled metal butt plug?”

Without hesitation she replied, “Yes I do. I have two left.”

“I’m on my way,” I told her, a tear of joy actually welling in my eye.

I called my Mistress and relayed my story of frustration and happiness. I suggested that if she chose to blog about this assignment, she should include a Google map of all the places I went in search of the elusive bejeweled butt plug. She laughed and then immediately saddled me with this blog assignment. I told her I was headed to the store and she instructed me take a picture of the plug and send it to her once I got there.

As I entered the store a beautiful young Hispanic woman approached me and before she could ask me if I needed help I asked, “Where’re the jeweled metal butt plugs?”

She smiled, as did her male partner behind the counter, and few customers walking around the store. “Those things are soooo popular,” she said, still smiling at me. She led me to the center of the store where a glass case displayed the two remaining plugs, glittering under the display light.

Opening the case for me, she informed me that the owner had purchased 10 of the plugs just before Valentines Day, and they had sold eight within a matter of days. I told her I believed her, and relayed a little of my efforts to find one.

The two plugs that were left had a ruby and aurora borealis stones. She picked up the plugs and put them in my eager hands. I marveled at the stones a bit before asking her to display them on the counter for me so that I could take a picture. “It’s for my Mistress, “I informed her. “She instructed me to buy one of these so that she could use it on me.”

“Oh you naughty girl,” my beautiful salesgirl exclaimed with a full smile.

I snapped a few pictures, with the help of my salesgirl, and then sent them to my Mistress who called me seconds later exclaiming, “It’s gorgeous!” A few minutes later we decided on the aurora borealis stone, and my salesgirl was ringing me up.

Beautiful salesgirl used the opportunity to quiz me about the BDSM scene, and we chatted a bit about the difference between the pros and the lifestylers, and the popularity of it all.

“Yeah,” she said, “Sometimes I ask my boyfriend to pull my hair when we are having sex. He just says ‘No, I don’t want to hurt you.’”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I replied honestly, wishing I could give her a sympathy tug on her long brunette locks. I made sure to turn her on to a few BDSM social networking sites before leaving the store with my glittering new butt plug.

Excited still, I stepped into my car, thoroughly satisfied with the joy I knew my Mistress had experienced from my diligent efforts that had just led to the spectacular completion of my assignment. I smiled as I started my car, thinking of her voice, praising me on the phone minutes before.

Still, I knew I wasn't finished. There was something else I really needed to do. Just for me.

Unable to restrain myself, I broke my safe driving rule and began texting my Mistress while driving 65 mph on the congested I-10 freeway.

"Mistress," I text.

"Yes?" she replied.

"You tell that cumboy," I continued, hardly able to text and drive as I was also in a fit of genuine, gleeful laughter.

"Yes?" she replied, probably laughing as well.

"Tell him," I continued.

"This, is how it's done."

Please feel free to leave your comments and feedback for sindi below. I'll make sure she gets them! - Mistress Lilyana

Adventures in butt plug acquisition - Part 2 - by sindi

2010-03-18T22:07:00.000-07:00

The following blog was written by my femsub, sindi, who I often refer to as "the girl." My simple assignment, to buy a butt plug, turned into a hilarious adventure that I felt could be chronicled best by sindi herself. This is part 2 of 3. Be sure to read part 1 if you haven't already.

My initial attempt at finding comfortable anal wear, proved to me how much credit I had unduly given myself in this challenge. First of all, I realized, just the word “butt plug,” made me blush when I heard it coming out of my own mouth.

And, it’s not like I have a gaggle of girlfriends with whom I am sharing my BDSM life with, that I can take with me to the porn store for some silly butt plug shopping.

It takes quite a bit of nerve as a woman, of any age, to walk into a sex shop alone and slam a butt plug down on the counter. Further, I had a specific butt plug to find, so I was probably going to have to ask somebody for it.

I walked into the first shop, a large mega adult novelty store near my home, on a Sunday. The place was pretty busy with several couples looking at lube and lingerie, while five or six single men perused X-rated titles in the DVD section.

The section labeled “ANAL” was empty and all mine, if I could just walk over to it. I made a bee-line for the lingerie and began flipping through a rack of corsets. Minutes later I left in a cold sweat, never having made it near the sex toys, much less the butt plug section.

A few days later my Mistress informed me that her Domme friend Apryl would be visiting my area soon, and would be taking me butt plug shopping, as I seemed to be having trouble getting the job done. I was instructed to contact Apryl via text, and to obey her as I would my own Mistress.

I contacted Apryl and we quickly laid out tentative plans to meet the following Wednesday at which time she would help me buy a butt plug. Then, we would both travel back to Vegas together in our cars as I already had plans to travel there for work.

Apryl casually mentioned that I would be wearing the butt plug throughout that six hour drive. “SHE told you to say that!” I texted Apryl, assuming that my Mistress was enjoying organizing our encounter from behind the scene. “I know her,” I text.

“No, she didn’t,” Apryl replied. “I’m sadistic.”

I’ll be honest. The idea of a sadistic Domme, who I don’t really know, having control of my asshole for a day scared the piss out of me. Luckily, that never happened.

My Mistresses family time arrangements forced me to change my travel plans to Tuesday, and the way my schedule was looking at that time, I wasn’t able to meet with Apryl, so I was back to doing my own butt plug shopping. Bullet dodged.

That Friday, with only three days to go before I had to leave for Vegas, I made another attempt at finding my plug. This time I hit a popular chain store that often advertised their “naughty” toys on the local rock radio station.

I tried to walk in unnoticed, but when the young man at the counter yelled “Hi honey,” as I walked in the door, every guy in the building—and of course there were only guys—turned to look at me. I gave the clerk a look that clearly said, “Thanks. Asshole.”

Again, I made a bee-line for the lingerie, and began flipping through a rack of garters. Peeking over the clothes rack, I scoped out the toy section, then casually made my way over. I hung around the whips and nipple clamps a while, finding a strange sense of comfort in the section, while slowly working my way past a variety of dildos. Finally, I found myself standing in front of a row of butt plugs.

I ignored the older man on the other side of the rack, and focused on my mission, scanning the rack for a jeweled, metal butt plug, and finding nothing even remotely like it. All of the plugs were made of plastic-like materials, and they were friggin HUGE.

As directed, I text my Mistress, informing her that I was at the shop and it did not look promising for the bejeweled butt plug. I took a picture of a Hello Kitty vibrator and advised her I was moving on to another shop. She was so wrapped up in her new vanilla guy she barely acknowledged me.

An hour later I entered my third sex shop, and again, hung out in the lingerie section while I scoped out the place. This time my Mistress texted me, asking me how it was going. I quickly scooted over to the butt plug section so I could give her a full report.

I scanned the rack for a metal butt plug, finding none. At that moment the tall male clerk walked up and asked me if I needed help. “Do you have any metal…ones?” I asked, pointing to the rack.

“No. These are all the butt plugs we have,” he replied, rather loudly, prompting fits of giggles from the couple a few aisles over.

“Ok. Thanks,” I replied, eagerly wanting to end the conversation so he wouldn’t say “butt plug” again.

I continued to peruse the rack of plugs, oddly feeling a sense of empowerment with each of the couple’s giggles. Again, the selection of butt plugs were plastic, and again they were very big, except for a few “beginner” butt plugs. WTF, I thought. Do all the women in Phoenix have giant assholes?

I text Mistress my dilemma. “They are all really big,” I wrote. “I’m just going to buy a small one and go.”

“Oh no you are not!” she quickly replied and instructed me to call her. I called and explained to her that all of the butt plugs, including the smaller ones, were 4” long or more. “I don’t think I can handle that,” I explained. “I’ve had anal sex, but I’ve never sat on a dick for a long time, and these things are huge.” I informed her of a few of my concerns, such as getting through this without a bruised spleen.

“Well you seem to be having a very hard time doing this for me,” my Mistress replied. “I don’t know how much more I can help you. First you said you didn’t know what to buy, so I was going to have Apryl help you. And now you are there in the store and you can’t seem to do what I asked you to. At one point I was going to have cumboy buy one for you …”

*Insert sound of screeching tires here.*

“What?” I butted in.

“Cumboy was going to buy one for you,” she repeated.

I let her words sink in a moment.

“Oh, fuck that!” I replied, immediately prompting her laughter.

“No. No. No, he’s not,” I continued. “Fuck that. This thing ends tonight,” I said, and hung up as she laughed.

I searched the rack, over and over, oblivious to the giggling couple now. Finally, I grabbed a 4”, skinny pink butt plug which I briskly walked to the counter with. Setting the plug down on the counter I asked the clerk to wait while I called my Mistress again, as instructed.

After informing her I was about to purchase a butt plug she directed me to send her a picture of the plug for her approval which I did. “No,” was her simple reply. I thanked the clerk and left the store plugless.

Part 3 of this blog will be posted next week. Please feel free to leave your comments and feedback for sindi below. I'll make sure she gets them! - Mistress Lilyana

Adventures in butt plug acquisition - Part 1 - by sindi

2010-03-17T02:28:00.000-07:00

The following blog was written by my femsub, sindi, who I often refer to as "the girl." My simple assignment, to buy a butt plug, turned into a hilarious adventure that I felt could be chronicled best by sindi herself. This is part 1 of 3.

Hanging over the back of the white vinyl lounge chair in my Las Vegas hotel room, I watched my hair dangle around my face as I waited for my Mistress’ touch.

I had only arrived from Arizona an hour before, and here I was, five minutes into my visit with her, bare ass up in the air, doing her bidding.

Suddenly I felt her probing finger, cold with lube, opening me up for the cold stainless steel that was to follow.

“How does that feel?” she asked as she wedged the ornate, heavy metal butt plug slowly but firmly into my asshole.

“It feels good Mistress,” I replied. I remained in position as my Mistress admired her work, taking a few pictures that she would later share with her other Domme and switch girlfriends.

“Oh that is so pretty,” she exclaimed, bringing a smile and a blush to my face that was still veiled by my hair as I hung upside down over the back of the chair.

Her hands on my ass again, I could feel the moistness running down the inside of my thigh as she trailed her fingers from the butt plug down along the opening of my throbbing pussy. Unable to restrain myself, I let out a soft, “Oh,” as she gently pushed on the center of my new jewelry.

“What’s this?” she asked as her fingers slipped through my labia. “Why are you so wet?”

The answer was easy. “You walked into the room,” I replied, garnering a satisfied chuckle from her as she pumped my pussy a few times with her skilled fingers.

Then, “Whap!” I returned back to earth from glorious sub-space as she slapped my ass and ordered me to get dressed, butt plug in place, for our evening out together.

It was a crowning mome…, or, well, bottoming moment, really, in what had turned into quite the endeavor to complete my Mistresses latest assignment: Go buy a butt plug.

Easy enough, I initially thought. Besides, I LOVE to please my Mistress. I know how lucky I am to have found such a sweet but wicked Domme. The fact is, we have so much fun together. Should be no surprise to her devoted blog audience when I say she has great sense of humor. Already, in my short time under her tutelage, I feel like I have laughed more than I did all last year.

Which is something that is very important to us both, as we see how it is sometimes missing in BDSM relationships. We had this discussion early on, and for us, if it isn’t fun, then why do it?

“The beauty of BDSM is that you can make it whatever you want it to be,” she told me recently. I agree. Of course I agree. She’s my Mistress.

Beyond our silly moments, though, she is always in control, and her skill and passion for exacting various means of torture to a willing sub is nothing to scoff at.

There has been at least one occasion when I have left her to return home to Arizona with bruised ass and thighs, a sore throat, braised nipples, and a pussy that was absolutely on fire. *Sigh. Memories.

So, therefore, when my Mistress tells me to do something, I fucking do it.

Which gets us back to my butt plug assignment. Now, I was already aware that my predecessor, AKA cumboy, had choked on this same assignment. I won’t lie. There is a bit of a competitive streak that arises in me whenever I hear my Mistress speaking of her other cock subs or bottoms. Just is. So, with the knowledge of cumboy’s failure, I was quick to want to nail this one.

Never having bought or used a butt plug before, I asked for my Mistress’ specific instructions on what to buy. The plug had to have a very narrow neck she instructed me, and should be comfortable enough for me to sit on. Sit? “Oh man. What am I in for here?” I thought.

I immediately tried her patience with questions about what I would be doing with the plug once I purchased it. She wasn’t very happy about that and let me know. My mouthy moments tend to get me in trouble as a new sub, I admit. But realizing I was still confused about what to purchase, she was gracious with me and sent me pictures of a various plugs before finally sending me a picture of what would soon prove to be elusive anal treasure.

It was love at first sight. “Oh, I want that,” I told her, as I marveled at the pictures of metal jeweled plugs, or anal jewelry. The ad showed that the stainless steel plugs came in two sizes, large and extra large, and there were seven jewels to choose from including jet black, ruby red, and even aurora borealis.

“I hear these are really comfortable,” she said, adding that her friend Anna who works in a fetish shop had told her that customers gave it rave reviews regarding comfort.

“I’m going to find the most comfortable butt plug they make,” I informed her, an honest comment that she found absolutely hilarious.

Please read part 2 for sindi's hilarious experiences shopping for the elusive bejeweled butt plug. Please feel free to leave your comments and feedback for sindi below. I'll make sure she gets them! - Mistress Lilyana

10

2010-03-05T10:48:00.000-08:00

After a couple of hours enjoying cocktails and Fremont Street, the girl and I headed back to her cozy little hotel room to play. She'd been quite the trooper, wearing the bejeweled butt plug without complaint the entire time. I removed it slowly, enjoying the weight and sparkliness for a moment before returning my attention to her.

I tied her wrists as she watched, amazed as always at my rigging skills even though they are basic ties. Still, she's entranced by my rope and enjoys being in it and that's just so fucking hot.

I then introduced her to my new Hitachi Magic Wand. As an avid fan of WhippedAss.com, she knew what it was but had never experienced the power. In less than 1 minute she was about to cum, forgetting to ask nicely for me to stop and forgetting to call me Mistress.

She didn't forget the second time I edged her. Or the third. Or the fourth. Or the tenth.

Yes I edged her 10 times with the Hitachi. And in between I was teasing her with less mechanical methods. She lay with her wrists bound above her head, long blond hair in her face and I was entranced with how beautiful she looked, mouth open slightly, sighing, eyes fluttering as she approached an orgasm she wouldn't obtain, again and again.

There was certainly that familiar rush of power I feel from being in control. But unlike with boys, I found myself enjoying the beauty of both her denial and her pleasure.

"You think that was about 10?"

"Yes Mistress."

"I bet you'd really like to cum, wouldn't you?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Tell you what. If you can make me cum 10 times, I'll let you cum."

"Can I use the Hitachi?"

I laughed. "No of course not!"

The girl tried to negotiate but I stood firm. She'd give me 10 orgasms without the use of any other objects.

10 orgasms isn't difficult for me with someone who knows what they're doing, particularly if they know me well. I'm very lucky to be so orgasmic. I haven't always been so I really appreciate it but that's probably another blog entirely.

She didn't rush through the challenge. She could have very easily stuck with what she already knew worked for me and gotten to 10 fairly quickly, but she didn't. The girl took her time and surprised herself at least once by finding interesting ways to trigger my orgasm.

It was so much fun to watch her work so diligently towards the goal I'd set for her. To hear her laugh each time I tallied another orgasm. To see the delight in her face as she discovered new ways to make me cum.

In the end, I did let her try out the Hitachi on me. It was only fair. The girl made me orgasm 13 times even before I let her get her hands on the powerful vibe.

And yes, I did let her cum.

My boy, my consort

2010-03-02T19:32:00.000-08:00

D/s relationship status: none

Relationship status: formerly dated

My Domme BFF and I came up with the term consort to denote the vanilla men we choose to have sex with. I originally ran across it used in some teen vampire books where it was used to refer to the human male a vampire high priestess feeds upon, and with whom she has really amazing sex and shares a psychic connection.

Then when I began dating my consort, I decided to look up the definition of the term. I found that it means "A companion or partner." This is completely accurate when it comes to describing my consort.

He's a Las Vegas local in his early 40's who's very open minded but not into the lifestyle. I enjoyed teaching him about the lifestyle but didn't particupate in any BDSM activities with him. He understood this is part of who I am and was supportive of me pursuing my kinky endeavors while we were together.

Tying up newbies

2010-02-23T20:24:00.000-08:00

I love rope. I love everything about it. The smell, the feel, the marks that it leaves, hell, I even get wet from the sound of rope hitting the floor as I'm tying or untying someone.

I don't think anyone would argue how much I enjoy rope and all the very fun things you can do with it including the vanilla guys that I've run across over the past year.

Yep, I love tying up newbies. The more vanilla, the better.

I generally start with something simple and I don't really Dom them, just give them a taste. I might just tie their wrists but usually I like to tie them spread eagle across a bed so I can tease them mercilessly and just generally have my way with them.

I like to leave some play in the ropes at their wrists the first time around so that they don't feel too restrained. It also allows something else, the hotness of which I hadn't fully realized until recently.

I love LOVE LOVE how someone who has never been tied up before reaches for me the first time they experience my rope. I LOVE how the rope restrains their movement when their hands reach for my breasts, my face, whatever they would normally be able to touch.

The look on their faces - amused frustration. And it's so incredibly hot.

Even hotter? When I release them from my ropes and they are finally able to touch me.

My dating persona

2010-02-17T19:34:00.000-08:00

I recently joined a vanilla dating website. Yeah yeah don't judge. I'm thinking I may happen upon a guy who is "convertible" or at the very least very open minded.

Anyway, this particular site is full of all kinds of quizzes and questionnaires to assist you in determining your compatibility with others. Today I ran across one for your dating persona. The results are SO dead on accurate and SO funny I just had to share them:

The Playstation
Random Gentle Sex Master (RGSM)

Easy to turn on. Hard to beat. You are The Playstation.

You’re a nice girl, and you have lots of sex. It’s therefore highly likely that you’re attractive, and you’re certainly outgoing and friendly. Plus, this healthy physical attitude of yours indicates deeper emotional well-being and stability. Unheard of. When guys dare to dream, they dream of you.

You don’t get attached too easily, and, to wit, you’re not necessarily looking for something long-term right now. That’s a bigger asset than you know. Though, physically speaking, you’re open to anything, you’re keeping your emotional side well-protected. This means there won’t be a lot of wreckage to clean up whenever you decide to settle down.

In the meantime, the men you share yourself with actually respect you. Like them, you enjoy sex for its own sake and don’t need any other validation for pleasure than pleasure itself. Hopefully, you have the good sense to blow off anyone who thinks less of you for that. Usually, this is the part of the description where we offer some life-correcting advice, but honestly, we can’t think of anything about you we’d change. Keep on fucking, partner.

Discovering boot and foot worship

2010-02-08T10:53:00.000-08:00

I have a list of rules I give submissives. It includes instructions on how to address me and greet me in both public and private, grooming and fitness/maintenance guidelines, as well as expectations for behavior.

One thing you might find out of place is rule #13. "Do not place your feet or toes anywhere on my body, ever."

I have what you might call an anti-fetish when it comes to feet. I can't handle anyone's toes on me. It literally makes me nauseous. No joke.

As open minded as I am, it's a still little difficult for me to understand someone's fascination with feet. They're enclosed in a damp dark shoe all day or, worse, open to the grime and dirt they encounter when bare or in sandals. Eww.

I actually do understand the humiliation aspect of it. I really enjoy making a boy kneel on the floor and kiss my feet as a show of their submission. Better yet is to have them kneel and beg to kiss my feet. It was very hot for me from a power exchange perspective but that was about it for me.

That changed last week for me.

Last summer I briefly dated and considered a boy I refer to as chewtoy. Even though I didn't go "full Domme" on him during our play session, I still managed to overwhelm him. After some time, we discussed things and it was clearly evident he's not truly submissive. He does, however, have some typically submissive fetishes, such as being bitten (hence his nickname), and a desire to be topped in bed.

Chewtoy also has a foot and shoe, more specifically boot fetish.We've remained in contact since we played and I kind of mentor him, or at least try to answer his questions about the lifestyle. He's even bottomed for me in rope class.

A couple of months ago he'd given me a pair of very fun platform boots he'd purchased for a project (pictured right). I'd strutted about (ok maybe a wobbled - I'm not used to platforms) while chewtoy grinned approvingly and told me hot they looked on me.

I knew from previous conversations we'd had that chewtoy enjoyed fetish wear, shoes especially, yet I was still a bit surprised when he contacted me before Christmas saying he'd purchased another pair of hot boots. He asked me if I'd wear them for him. Actually he was very specific. He wanted me to wear them for him without socks for a few hours, tie him up and make him smell.

Um yeah other than the tying up part, I really didn't get what he was going for. I tried to tie in the smelly boots with some kind of humiliation I had yet to inflict upon a sub, but quite frankly, I was grasping at straws struggling to connect what he envisioned with something that appealed to me.

Then last week chewtoy just happened to call at the perfect moment. Fresh from the break up with my FMT, and moments after a bad first date, I was feeling dangerous and ready to play.

A few beers later I was lacing up the very hot patent leather boots he'd bought and then modeling them in my panties and sweater.

Later, as I lay on his bed with my legs in the air admiring my footwear, chew toy began kissing the shiny black boots in a very sensual way. He put his cheek against their smoothness and closed his eyes blissfully. He licked them like they were a delicious treat. Chewtoy was in heaven.

Watching him practically make love to my boots was an erotic experience I wasn't expecting. The closest thing I can compare it to is a threesome. It was a lot like watching him making out with someone else. And for me, watching my guy with someone else is just fucking hot. And this someone else was black, shiny, sexy and directly connected to me.

Another aspect that surprised me was that I could actually feel many of his kisses and licks through the boot. In regards to hotness, that was right up there with when a guy bites my nipple through my bra or breathes on my pussy while I'm wearing panties. HOT.

I've never really researched boot and foot worship, so if you're a purist and there's some kind of protocol for this kind of thing, give me a break here. I'm new to this and so is he. We just went with what felt good and natural and as with any good scene, it evolved naturally.

What it evolved into was some very hot sex featuring me in nothing but a black lace bra and the boots you see above. My flexibility really came in handy for being able to appreciate the sexiness of my boots while enjoying everything else.

Afterward I slowly took off the boots to reveal one foot, then the other. Chewtoy marveled at how warm, damp and soft my feet were after a few hours in the boots. Before I knew he was kissing and licking each toe and enjoying my entire foot.

Before this experience, I'd have cringed at the idea that someone wanted to lick my sweaty feet. But yet as I watched chewtoy savor and enjoy each toe, I realized it was hot for me. Very very hot. And I want more.

Being the kinkiest person in the room

2010-02-03T09:16:00.000-08:00

Before my FMT and I broke up recently, we'd decided to trying swinging. We are both passionate, open minded people and we've both considered swinging with other partners and just never gone through with it. We've both engaged in threesomes with other partners and really really enjoyed the experiences. And after a year of seeing each other and talking about it, we were ready to do this with each other.

My ex boyfriend from college swings and he credits me from his lifestyle choice but that's probably another blog. In any case, he knows of my BDSM proclivities and was very interested to learn I was going to try swinging. When I asked him why, he cited first the "tension" between the swinging lifestylers and the BDSM lifestylers. Being in the swinging lifestyle, he knew that most BDSM lifestylers look down upon swingers. And that swingers don't really understand BDSM lifestylers.

"I don't care what the BDSMers think about me swinging. This is what I want to do and so I'm going to do it. But now what are the swingers going to think about me?"

"Oh they're going to find you fascinating. They're used to being the kinkiest people on the room."

So my FMT and I set about the process of screening couples for our first swap. Not ones to do anything half ass when it comes to sex, we agreed to full swap, same room and didn't exclude the option of each of us playing independently. This immediately placed us in the kinkiest of the swingers without any mention of my own BDSM lifestyle choices.

And the swingers do find me fascinating

They ask me questions about what I'm into. Now when I get this question from a BDSM lifestyler, it's easy to respond. Erotic rope bondage, erotic humiliation, CBT, chastity, tease and denial, impact play, body worship, forced bi, etc.

But when a swinger lifestyler asks what I'm into, it's a bit of a struggle to answer. My standard answer is "oral" and "I'm very bi." I can't shock them with what I'm really into. I don't tell them I find it entertaining to make a guy eat his own cum. But I do tell them about the softer aspects of my BDSM interests. Even swingers think it's hot that I enjoy tying someone up and teasing them. Surprisingly, I've even run across some men who are interested in or who already enjoy strap on sex.

Being the kinkiest person in the room, or at least the kinkiest person they know, means I get very generic questions like "What does BDSM entail?" or "What does you mean when you say you are Dominant?" These questions continue to give me pause and make me really think before I answer. In a way I feel like an ambassador for BDSM in these moments. I want to dispel the cliche image they have of the leather-clad whip-wielding Dominatrix but I don't want to shock them with the reality of what I'm into either.

My ex boyfriend recently asked how the swinging was going and I told him I feel like the hot new Swedish exchange student because everyone is so obviously intrigued by me.

I'm enjoying being new to the lifestyle but still being the kinkiest person in the room.

Baring it all

2010-02-02T19:43:00.000-08:00

Recently I received a stream of tweets from a devoted follower of mine on Twitter, @boypet. Here's one of the tweets:

"You're amazing: your openness, honesty and courage is both beautiful & astounding. Just wanted to tell you that."

Occasionally one of my followers will tell me they enjoy my tweets and I so love hearing from them. While I can never truly hear just how fabulous I am enough, this one was different to me because he touched on openness, honesty and courage.

The truth is, I don't say everything that comes into my brain on Twitter, though to my followers it may seem that way, and I surely don't blog everything. I omit things to protect my identity and occasionally withhold experiences I'm not ready or willing to share.

However, for the most part, I really don't hold back much. I have a softer side. And I know it's probably a little puzzling for some, other Dommes in particular, that I so often show my soft underbelly.

I am human. I make mistakes. I experience heartbreaking disappointment. There's a lot that I don't know. And I'm learning more about myself and the lifestyle all of the time.

What I do know is this: I am Dominant and I'm secure in that Dominance. Baring it all for my readers and followers doesn't diminish my strength because my strength comes from within.

I'm going to continue to share lots of things with my readers and followers, good and bad, happy and sad. Does that make me as courageous as @boypet seems to think? Maybe. But I don't know any other way to be.

The girl

2010-01-26T15:15:00.000-08:00

D/s relationship status: play partners

Relationship status: friends

The girl is 40 years old and 5'-10" of yummy subbiness with long ash blond hair and green eyes. She lives in Arizona but travels to Vegas frequently for work. When we met in January of 2010, she was newly bisexual, new to the BDSM world and totally uninterested in being Dommed by a man. She served me for 3 months before deciding she needed more freedom to explore her bisexuality than she'd be able to get as long as she was mine

Blogs about the girl
Blogs written by the girl

Do I give a Yahoo about you?

2010-01-18T07:00:00.000-08:00

In the lifestyle we talk a lot about labels. The general consensus from the real intellectual kinksters is that labesl are bad. Just be who you are and fuck labels.

Well I'm an organizer. I love labels. I love knowing where things fit and how to better understand people.
I use Yahoo IM a lot. I have a Blackberry and a busy life and often Yahoo IM is the best way to reach me because I'm usually logged in through my Berry.

On my Yahoo IM, I have created groups to categorize my contacts. Inadvertently this categorization has come to be reflective of how important someone is to me.

Here are how I label boys:

Boys 1 - My current subs and subs I'm considering. This is always a very short list. Probably shorter now that ever.

Boys 2 - Male submissives I speak with regularly and enjoy their friendship as well as subs I'm getting to know for possible consideration.

BFFs - My best friends that I speak with regularly. Two former subs who no longer submit to me but who I still adore can be be found here along with my closest girl friends.

Friends - Vanilla friends, male and female.

Fun Friends - Kinky friends, female and male.

Guys - Vanilla guys like my FMT that I see or have dated before. They still interest me and have not yet been banished to my Friends or Other Boys group. This is also a very very short list since I no longer try to date vanilla guy.

Other Boys - The group you don't want to be in if you're a guy. If you've been banished to this group, you've either irritated me or bored me.

Blocked - If you're here, you've creeped me out or I'm so done with you I don't even want to endure the possibility of a casual hello popping up in Yahoo.

Last week I tweeted about my categorization method. This prompted two submissive males to ask the dreaded question: What group am I in?

In both instances they were in Boys Other. Both had JUST recently been demoted there. One is my former pet. One is a hot but married sub who lives in Florida. I enjoy talking to them both but I won't play with either of them online.

Both were unhappy to hear they had been banished to Boys Other. The moral of the story is if you aren't sure what category you fall into, you probably don't want to know. ;)

Typically a prospective sub will be labeled as Boys 2 until he's either promoted to Boys 1 or demoted to Other Boys.

When I promote a prospective to Boys 1, I sometimes feel like I should congratulate them. It's a happy occasion that fills me with hope even though it's something too silly for me to share with them.

I try not to look at the number of boys exiled into the Other Boys group, try not to ever even expand the group to look inside it. I get depressed seeing the sheer number of attempts I've made at finding the right submissive guy. Ugh. However, moving them there is usually a cathartic event for me. To me it's a lot like going through your closet and donating things to charity that you don't wear often or that don't fit you just right. It feels good to see your closet look less full and feels good to give things away.

Wow did I just compare subs with old clothes? And write a whole blog about my Yahoo IM groups?
Seriously, I've got to get some more boys into Boys 1 and play with them so I have better more blog worthy material!

How I nearly got cock blocked by a Kirby vacuum cleaner

2010-01-12T18:47:00.000-08:00

Last night I finally received some much needed time with my FMT. It was tight schedule but then again it often is. He works full time AND is pursuing his masters in Psychology so his Lilyana time is usually limited.

Tonight he managed to carve out a couple of hours for pizza, ice cream and some hands on Lilyana time. He'd also somehow gotten me to agree to help him with his homework.

I hadn't taken two bites out of my slice of pizza when there was a knock at the door. My FMT looked at me puzzled and all I could think of as he went to answer the door was "Please don't let it be one of the psycho ex girlfriends."

Apparently my FMT is man crack to other women too. Their addiction drives them to harass him, me, his friends and even his family. Sometimes I think I'm the only sane woman he's ever dated. Sometimes these psycho women make me think he can only attract psychos which makes me question my own sanity.

In any case, I was bracing myself for an ex and hoping it was the pizza guy back for some odd reason. It was instead a young woman who spoke so quickly I could barely understand her in a high pitched voice. Something about allowing someone to come in and clean his floors. For free. No obligation.

I smelled a sales pitch but my FMT agreed to let her guy come back and clean the floors. Clean the stairs for free? Sure why not.

10 minutes into the demo, I could tell by the questions my FMT was asking that he was interested. And I have to admit the Kirby vacuum cleaner is quite impressive. It really did sell itself. But I had to chuckle at my FMT being sucked into buying a $2200 vacuum cleaner. Oh sure, the guy gave him a deal at $1200 and offered a nifty financing plan. Even took his old Bissel vacuum from Walmart as a down payment.

But every moment this Kirby vacuum cleaner salesman was in the house was a moment out of my Lilyana time. Those moments previously designated for my FMT's talented hands to be on me.

Luckily I distracted myself by reading through my FMT's homework. His assignment was to select a psychological disorder from the DSM-IV-TR Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders and create a treatment plan for an imaginary patient. He flipped through this 3 inch thick book to the Sexual and Gender Identity Disorders section and told me to pick something. I liked the paraphilias:

302.4 Exhibitionism
302.81 Fetishism
302.89 Frotteurism
302.2 Pedophilia
302.83 Sexual masochism
302.84 Sexual sadism
302.3 Transvestic fetishism
302.82 Voyeurism
302.9 Paraphilia NOS (not otherwise specified)

Naturally I picked Sexual Sadism.

Note about the Diagnosis Criteria: In order to be considered Sexual Sadism, the patient must have either inflicted mental or physical pain on a non-consenting victim or a consenting victim to a point where it interferes with their day to day life and relationships. I don't have this disorder nor do I know anyone who does.

Anyway, I'm flipping through the DSM-IV-TR reading about all the ways BDSM could be unhealthy as the sales guy is showing my FMT all the bells and whistles on a Kirby vacuum cleaner. He shows him all the crap the Kirby picks up that his vacuum missed. The super cool grout attachment. Hell, you can even use the machine to unplug a pipe. And it's guaranteed for 10 years.

I can feel my 'hands on' time being sucked up by the Kirby's unrivaled 14 inch wide suction.
Finally the paperwork is signed, and my FMT gets to test drive his super awesome vacuum cleaner.

"Your going to insist on vacuuming the whole house tonight, aren't you?"

"Probably."

"Did I ever tell you how hot it makes me when a guy vacuums?"

My FMT laughs. He thinks I'm joking. I'm not.

I don't know why but I just really enjoy watching a guy clean house. Maybe it's because it's a form of service. Maybe it's because that means I don't have to do it. I really can't tell you why.

I tell him this. I call him a tease. He stops vacuuming and takes me upstairs. To do his homework.

And no his homework was not a hands on experiment with Sexual Sadism.

For the assignment we had to create a backstory for the patient, diagnose her, then create a treatment plan for her. For me this was fun because as a SANE sadist, I can easily see where that line is and where things could go terribly wrong.

We debated, I educated him, he typed. An hour later we'd made a good dent in his assignment and were at a stopping point. We were well past our scheduled pizza/ice cream/hot fucking time. I figured I was going home frustrated. Cock blocked by a Kirby vacuum cleaner.

But alas, it was finally Lilyana time. My patience was rewarded. Multiple times.

I'm sure there's some sucking/vacuum cleaner joke in there too. I'll let you create your own.

As I drove home, I could picture my FMT scanning the DSM-IV-TR index looking for a mental disorder that involves voyerism and men vacuuming. I hope that's one disorder that doesn't require a treatment plan. I sure as hell won't be helping him with THAT homework assignment if that's the case.

Man crack

2009-12-30T08:54:00.000-08:00

"Can't live with him, can't live without him."

"He's perfect for me and completely wrong for me."

"He's my disease and my cure."

Occasionally a woman will find a man she becomes completely addicted to. Toxic or not, he becomes her affliction. He's oh so wrong for her, and she knows it, but he's like crack - dangerously addictive - and she can't stay away.

It seems lately I've noted a couple of girlfriends going through this. Of course this has NEVER happened to me. Ever. Seriously.

Riiiight.

My first experience with man crack was my college boyfriend. He wasn't my normal pretty boy, athletic and sociable. It didn't matter that I had a boyfriend at the time either. I was inexplicably drawn to him and instantly addicted to him.

Quickly I grew to love him with an intensity that surprised me. The very independent young woman I'd become found herself unable to be away from him. I couldn't wait to see him in between classes, couldn't wait to get him back into my bed.

I vividly remember being across the room from him and feeling a physical loss at not being near him. And when I was near him, I couldn't seem to get close enough. If I could have crawled inside him, I would have.

My ex husband was nearly as addictive, at least in the time before we were married. I couldn't get enough of him. I can remember on more than one occasion "feeling him" enter a room as if just being in his proximity provoked a physical reaction in me.

My FMT is the latest addition to my man crack experiences. He's completely wrong for me in so many ways yet I cannot shake my addiction to him even now, nearly a year after my first "hit."

Our chemistry is palpable. Sometimes I feel like it's a physical force all its own. To be near him is inexplicably intoxicating. Simply having his arm around me snuggling during a movie is like foreplay.

Having man crack in your life is a double edged sword. When you're getting your fix, when you're feeding your addiction, everything is beautiful, exhilarating and perfect and you forget all of the reasons why your man crack is dangerous. Then when he's gone, when things don't work out, you're left with terrible withdrawal symptoms. You feel anxious for no apparent reason and you feel crazy for not being able to walk away from what is clearly something very bad for you.

Man crack is a real addiction not just for me but for my friends. We've spent hours pondering why intelligent women such as ourselves can't seem to just walk away from our man crack when we KNOW the perils of our addiction.

Being addicted to something, to someone, means you're experiencing feelings you cannot control. As much as I look forward to finding THE perfect sub, that one who trips all my triggers, whose submission I crave more than any others, I sincerely hope he's not man crack.

Cumboy once told me, "You are like a drug (a good one too, Columbian shit - uncut and pure)." I LOVE that! I prefer to be a guy's drug of choice. How's that for a double standard? Eh who cares. I'm in charge. I get to make the rules. :)

Blondes are yummy - my Blonde Brownie recipe

2009-12-28T12:56:00.000-08:00

At Reverse Tensionz' December Rope Social, we had a potluck feast of yumminess. I showed a little bit of my domestic side by baking up a couple of batches of my famous Blond Brownies and they were quite the hit. As requested, here's the recipe:

Lilyana's Blonde Brownies

1 cup melted butter
2 2/3 cups packed brown sugar
3 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 cups flour
1 heaping teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
salt (I used 4 or 5 shakes of the salt shaker)
half a bag of semi sweet chocolate chips
roughly chopped pecans - at least 1 cup - I use more

Mix melted butter, brown sugar, eggs and vanilla until creamy. Combine with flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add in chocolate chips and pecans. Smooth batter into a greased 9 x 13 pan or glass dish.

Bake at 350 degrees. The original recipe says bake for 40 minutes but I start checking it at 22 minutes. The secret is not to bake it too long. You want them to be a bit gooey in the middle so the tooth pick test doesn't work. Watch the edges. When the edges begin to turn just a tad more brown that the rest, it's usually done.

Photo by IstariSilver

The player gives up dating for sport

2009-12-23T14:49:00.000-08:00

Babyboy is a player. He's in his mid 20's and has enjoyed dating lots of girls who he openly admits he easily wraps around his little finger.

It seems to me he enjoys this little sport, dating vanilla girls. He's a good looking guy who prides himself on staying in shape. He says this is because he's a bartender and it helps his tips. I know those tips are mostly from women and, although I haven't seen him at work, would be willing to bet he flirts his way to better tips. And I'm certain he flirts in a way that makes each female feel special.

Yep, he's THAT kind of player. The non-cheesy kind that plays you before you realize you've been played.

I really enjoy knowing that he's out there playing the confident, assertive guy and wooing women when I know deep down all he really wants to do is be my little whore. I REALLY enjoy knowing that.

Then today babyboy tells me he's done dating girls. That he's all mine.

Part of me is thrilled he wants to give up dating for sport for me. But part of me liked knowing he was out there wrapping girls around his little finger. It amused me.

My boy, babyboy

2009-12-23T11:50:00.000-08:00

D/s relationship status: former submissive

Relationship status: friends

Babyboy is one of the first potential submissives I developed a relationship with when I began to consider taking on submissives in the summer of 2008. He's originally from the mid-west and in his late-twenties. He's a bartender and law student.

Read blogs about babyboy.

Frustrations

2009-12-11T06:02:00.000-08:00

Unless you've collared or been collared by the significant other of your dreams, you've probably experienced at least some of the frustration I've endured. It seems inevitable. I've made this lifestyle choice and while I really never doubt my choice, I often feel that I've condemned myself to frustration.

It seems as though the moments of frustration are coming more rapidly now. I spend so much time vetting candidates you'd think my dance card would be full of willing playmates. It's not.

I wish I could say it's because I'm too picky. Sure, I have my list of deal breakers (being married, for example) and my list of preferences (intelligent, young, physically fit), but mostly I'm pretty open to at least getting to know most potentials that find me. It just seems that during that process, most candidates turn out to be fakes or flakes.

If they impress and intrigue me after emails, IMs and phone calls, then we attempt to meet in real life. At that point my frustrations are largely centered around scheduling challenges.

Although these first meetings do not make me anxious at all, it seems there is so much pressure riding on things. Will he be hotter than his pics? A girl can only hope! Will there be some chemistry? Will he sit quietly or will he engage me? Will I discover I've wasted hours of my life talking to this boy who will never serve me?

Sometimes I know on the first meeting whether or not I crave a boy's submission. Sometimes I can even tell on the first phone call. Other times I walk away from an initial meeting thinking, "Yeah maybe." And then the frustration is waiting for the next meeting and hoping that I'll get a better reading of compatibility then.

When I've determined a candidate is suitable, when I begin to crave his submission, the next step is to play. At this point scheduling is the only frustration because planning the scene is pure joy. And really, we're talking less about frustration than we are about anticipation.

And then when it happens, when I play with a boy and everything clicks, it's beautiful and magical and it makes me feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. It's like having the whole world at my feet and the frustrations aren't even worth mentioning.

After that the frustration surrounds any extenuating circumstances that keep us from playing again and from spending more time together. Sadly, it seems more often than not, some challenge arises.

I continue to hope that my frustrations will diminish. That I'll find someone who can fulfill my needs and make me physically and intellectually hot for them.

And so I sit here typing up this blog without a sub kneeling at my feet. I know he's out there, longing for this in the same way I do.

Potential subs say the sweetest things

2009-12-07T13:37:00.000-08:00

Just one of the many sweet things I hear from potential subs (via IM).

You move me.....
not just Your potential.....
But who You are as a Woman now...
intuitive....
kind...
passionate
imaginative....
curious....
You make my heart race...
funny....
and mind swim....
and to just have coffee or tea with You
to see how You throw Your head back when You laugh....
how Your eyes sparkle....
to just listen and watch and listen more to You....

Forced bi with fireboytoy and pk

2009-12-02T09:43:00.000-08:00

I'd told fireboytoy I had something planned for him, a surprise. Of course he'd asked what it was but all I told him was that it was humiliation. He'd messaged me multiple times that day, anxious and aroused, but I refused to tell him what I had in store for him.

I arrived at his suite and spent a bit of time relaxing with fireboytoy, making small talk and increasing his anxiety until I could wait no longer. I had him strip as I unpacked my ropes noting how he looked at the satiny lengths longingly. It had only been a few days and he was ready to be back in my ropes again.

I tied him securely to a chair that I'd positioned in the middle of the seating area of the suite. He must have sensed when I rearranged the furniture so that the chair was in the center that he'd end up being the show, or at the very least a part of it.

I checked his bonds twice, maybe even three times, to ensure they were secure and comfortable. He verbally confirmed this multiple times and finally, after I was confident he would be safe in my ropes, I put the headphones to his iPod in his ears, slipped his blindfold over his eyes and gave him a soft, sensual kiss on the lips.

Minutes later I was kissing pk at the bar to the Mexican restaurant in the same resort. We caught up over margaritas for me, top shelf tequila for him and guacamole for us both. Two rounds and roughly 90 minutes later, we made our way back up the the suite.

I immediately went to fireboytoy who gasped and flinched at my touch. I ran my hands down his arms to check his bondage, then down his legs and back up again savoring how he trembled beneath my fingertips.

Then I went to change into lingerie and chatted with pk as he checked out the suite. I knew from my first scene with fireboytoy that he would be unable to hear precisely what we were saying but I hoped we were being loud enough that even with his earphones in and his iPod playing that he'd know I had someone else with me.

With pk in tow, I made my way back over to the boy so patiently waiting for me and whatever humiliation I had in store for him. I touched fireboytoy, watched him flinch again in surprise, then turned to grin at pk. I removed his earphones but left on his blindfold as I kissed him hard. I straddled his thigh and I know he could feel my excitement as I kissed his neck and shoulder.

pk sat on the sofa grinning and watching me taunt and tease fireboytoy. And then as I stood before the boy, kissing him, I felt pk behind me, licking me and I gasped against fireboytoy's mouth. If he hadn't guessed there was someone else there with us before, that probably confirmed for him that there was AND that I was REALLY happy about that fact.

I enjoyed pk's attention for a bit as I clung to fireboytoy, sighing into his mouth, then I remembered the purpose of the evening. I left pk on his knees in front of fireboytoy as I circled around him. Letting my long hair slide over his shoulder, I ran my hands down his arms and over his chest as I stood behind him.

"Kiss him here," I said to pk, pointing at a spot on the inside of the boy's knee.

"Yes Mistress," pk said, smiling up at me as he leaned in to kiss fireboytoy's thigh. Fireboytoy may have sighed a bit, but he didn't protest.

"And here," I pointed to a spot on his abdomen.

"Yes Mistress," pk responded. I loved watching pk's full, soft lips kiss fireboytoy's skin.

I must have made pk kiss fireboytoy in a dozen places before I held fireboytoy's erect cock and said, "Kiss him here, right on the head of his cock."

I wish I could recall the exact response fireboytoy had. A gasp? A moan? I can't remember. But it was damn hot. Almost as hot as pk smiling up at me from the boy's cock.

pk was ready to suck fireboytoy's cock but I wanted to savor the moment as long as I could. I moved back to straddling his thigh where I had an excellent view and directed pk to lick and then suck fireboytoy's cock precisely the way I wanted him to.

All too soon fireboytoy whispered, "Mistress, I'm going to cum!" I quickly reached down and squeezed his cock. It was too late to stop him from cumming but not too late to ruin his orgasm.

pk looked up at me, flushed and expectant. "Lick it up!" I snapped at him, and he obediently licked fireboytoy's cum off the chair upholstery between fireboytoy's legs.

I kissed fireboytoy and left him tied to the chair as I showed pk out. A part of me knew I was giving up a chance to have both of them serve me together, in bed, but I wanted to make sure fireboytoy wasn't traumatized by his first forced bi experience. So pk left without fireboytoy ever seeing the face of the man who had just sucked his cock.

I untied fireboytoy and took him to bed to snuggle and do the aftercare thing. Knowing how ruined orgasms make him hornier than not cumming (mostly because I'd given him a ruined orgasm earlier in the week), I shouldn't have been surprised when our snuggling turned into him serving me.

Later, when we talked about the scene, I was a little surprised that fireboytoy seemed so accepting of what had happened. And also at how quickly he'd cum. Then he told me something that explained both.

When I'd straddled him as he was tied with my wetness against his thigh, he'd felt my excitement. Knowing he was pleasing me and having that evidence pressed so hotly against his thigh had turned something that should have been unsavory for a straight guy into an erotic experience.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I find forced bi unbelievably hot.

Exactly where I'm supposed to be

2009-11-28T09:15:00.000-08:00

This entry is a continuation of my previous entry, Having the whole world at my feet, about my first meeting with fireboytoy.

I removed his earphones but left the blindfold in place. I spoke to him softly, my voiced laced with need and a hint of a Southern accent.

I stood before him as he trembled, my hands on his face, and I wiped the sweat of his anxiety off his upper lip with my thumb. He thanked me breathlessly, a little embarrassed, and then I kissed him.

He didn't kiss me back at first, didn't make his mouth available to me and I backed away, confused.

"Mistress may I kiss you?"

"Of course," I giggled and then I kissed him again.

I don't know how long I teased him with my hands, my breath and my hair on his skin as he knelt there, but eventually I asked him to stand. I switched the rope cuffs securing his wrists so that his hands were in front of him and led him to lay face down across the coffee table.

Once I'd quickly tied his hands under the table, I proceeded to very slowly tie his chest to the table, his ankles to the bureau behind him and his thighs open and securely fastened to the legs of the coffee table.

I knew he was an ass virgin. I knew he'd never engaged in strap on play. And bent across the coffee table as he was, fireboytoy was perfectly positioned to be taken. And he knew it. Mind fuck #2 of the evening.

No, I didn't take his ass.

What I did was let him see my face for the first him as he was tied up in my ropes wondering if I'd donned my strap on. I sat on the sofa, nearly at his eye level, and slipped the blindfold off his face.

I don't remember what either of us said. I do remember though there was no anxiety on my part about what he'd think of me seeing my face in person for the first time. This was no ordinary first date after all. I had the world at my feet and him tied to the coffee table with a raging erection. Life was good. I felt confident, invincible and desirable and certain he'd feel the same.

And for maybe the first time in my life I had the overwhelming thought that I was exactly where I was supposed to be, doing precisely what I was meant to be doing.

Having the whole world at my feet

2009-11-22T22:51:00.000-08:00

Typically I meet a new prospective sub in a vanilla environment at least once before engaging in any D/s play. However, the rapidly developed rapport that fireboytoy and I enjoyed made a rather unorthodox first meeting a real option for me for the first time.

He was waiting for me in his suite in one of the nicer strip resorts. Fireboytoy's wrists were bound in his own cuffs and he was blindfolded. To add to the sensory deprivation and to mask any noise I might make in the room, I had him wearing earphones to his iPod listening to music with the TV's providing additional ambient noise.

I arrived with a suitcase full of rope, toys and other goodies to find an envelope with a room key just under the door to his suite as we'd arranged. I let myself in to find the suite prepared exactly as I asked. A bottle of Riesling wine chilling with one glass poured. Towels positioned precisely where I asked. And one trembling man kneeling in the living area of the suite.

I quietly made my way towards him savoring my first view of my new boy. His trembling, his ragged breathing did nothing but excite me beyond reason and it was everything I could do to not touch him right away. I was able to resist for a few minutes as I checked out the suite and enjoyed a glass of wine.

Finally, I couldn't wait anymore. I lightly ran my hand though his hair and fireboytoy jumped at my touch, his breathing immediately becoming rapid. His response told me he'd had no idea I had been there.

My first task was to put him in my own cuffs. I slipped them on over his, and then removed his easily. Now he was mine and he knew it. Later he admitted this was the first major mind fuck of the night.

Mmmm gotta love the mind fuck.

After I had fireboytoy secured, I leaned in to smell him letting my long hair caress his bare shoulder while my hands explored him. Feeling his trembling under my fingertips empowered me in a way I can't begin to describe.

I tore myself away and left him to stew in his new level of anxiety. I enjoyed my wine as I changed into something that looked as sexy as I felt. I unpacked my gear and added carabiners to the bed frame in preparation to tie him to the bed later.

I found the CD player and inserted the CD of edgy, sexy music I use during scenes. Immediately I felt the comfort of my favorite tunes envelope me and I felt even more empowered. Using the remote, I opened the balloon curtains to the windows that overlook the Vegas skyline from 30 stories above and sashayed past an anxious, kneeling boy to the window. There, with my hands spread wide on the cool glass, it was like have more than one precious man kneeling at my feet; it was like having the whole world at my feet. I reveled in the feeling and couldn't stop myself from throwing my head back and laughing with giddiness.

And then I turned my attention back to the boy kneeling, trembling and waiting for me.

How to pique my interest

2009-10-29T07:08:00.000-07:00

Let's face it. There are way more male submissives than truly Dominant women. This allows me to be very particular about who I choose to date and/or play with.

I can't speak for every other femdom, but I can tell you what I like to see, what behavior from a man piques my interest in him and his submission.

1. Be honest.
You'd think this would be a given, but sadly, it is not. Your relationship status impacts what types of interaction I'll be interested in. I'm always open for friendship, even with married guys, but if you aren't upfront about your status and it becomes evident later that you have a significant other, I'll lose all interest in you altogether.

Relationship status isn't the only area where I expect honesty. You should be honest in every area. And don't just tell me what you think I want to hear. You can be respectful and honest at the same time.

2. Tell me about the vanilla you.
If you're contacting me, I'm going to assume you're kinky. I promise that we'll have lots and lots of discussions about those kinky desires, yours and mine, but for me to even want to bother learning more, I need to know about what kind of man you are outside the bedroom.

3. Don't send me unsolicited nude pics.
Physical attraction is important, no doubt. And yes, if I'm even remotely interested in you and your submission, I'll want to see pictures of you. When that time comes, don't send me pictures of your cock, please. While a beautiful cock is a plus, I need to see your face because if all goes well, I'll be spending much more time looking at it than your cock.

4. Be respectful but don't worry so much about D/s protocol.
I enjoy being called Mistress. I even like it when subs use the capitalized pronouns when referring to me in writing. However, I don't require it. When I'm ready for you to call me Mistress, I'll let you know. Until then you should just call me Lilyana or Miss but never baby, honey or anything overly familiar.

5. Tell me why you desire me.
This isn't about massaging my ego. This is about letting me know you appreciate the things about me that make me unique. It also lets me know you're paying attention.

6. Let me know you're thinking about me.
Very little pleases me more than knowing a man is thinking about me. A text, short email or well worded IM letting me know I'm on your mind tells me I'm more to you than a fleeting desire for kink.

7. Do what you say you're going to do.
If you tell me you're going to do something, just do it. I understand that sometimes life gets in the way, truly I do. And when that happens, communicate and let me know. Otherwise I expect you to do what you say you're going to do. Anything less will disappoint me.

8. Don't be a doormat.
I want a boy who will submit to my desires, particularly in the bedroom. But I also need to be able to respect him. A little fear displayed in a scene can be hot but I don't want to see any evidence you're easily intimidated. Show me a little playful spunkiness but do so respectfully and I will be intrigued.

9. Be intelligent. If you aren't, at least be able to keep up.
I don't expect every boy to be a rocket scientist, but you should be able to speak to me about a range of subjects and do so intelligently enough to prevent me from becoming bored. Witty banter gets me hot so the better you're able to engage me in a playful way, the more interested I'll be in you.

10. Manage your jealousy effectively.
I find as a general rule that prospective male subs are not a jealous bunch. And there is something sweet about a sub's interest in what I'm doing with other subs now or have done with them in the past. However, there's a line where that interest that seems so sweet becomes something that feels like jealousy.

There's nothing wrong with letting me know you know that other men desire me in the ways that you do. In fact, I love that. It reminds me that you appreciate me. But don't be creepy about it. Remember that I'm in charge here and while I'll certainly take your concerns into consideration, in the end, I'm the one who decides how and when I'll interact with other guys.

11. Be ready to read about yourself or be ready to never read my blog or never follow my tweets.
It takes a pretty special guy to take me on knowing that I'll be tweeting and blogging about my adventures with him. And my adventures with whatever other men and/or women I decide to spend time with while we're together. I'll certainly be respectful of your privacy and would never do anything that would "out" you in the real world. To do so would also "out" myself and that's unacceptable. However, I know what steps to take to protect myself and you and will do everything I can in that vein. You'll just have to trust me on that one.

I'll probably tell you when I write about you. I find that it often adds to the humiliation. I may even post your naughty pics or share them with my Domme friends. Be prepared to read any of the sordid details in our encounters. If this is too much for you, be prepared to know it's happening but never look at my writing or tweets.

This list is, by all means, not meant to be complete. I've gotta keep 'em guessing. ;)

Resources for budding femdoms

2009-10-27T09:43:00.000-07:00

In yesterday's post, "Hope for male subs in vanilla marraiges" I suggested a couple of ways submissive males in vanilla marriages might be able to cultivate the "Domme within" their spouse. If that is successful, she'll need help and guidance or, at the very least, confirmation she's not alone.

I'd like to recommend Akasha's Web for resources for budding femdoms. Akasha has put together a collection of thoughtfully written suggestions and guidelines in the Women Only section of her wesbite. There are others sources, of course. I personally learned a lot from the BDSM Forum on Literotica but there is a lot to weed through to pull out the real gems. I only wish someone had pointed me toward's Akasha's Web!

It is certainly not the only site with good info, but I highly recommend it as a great place for women with domination aspirations to start.

Oh and Akasha's erotica isn't bad either. HOTT and full of great ideas.

Hope for male subs in vanilla marriages

2009-10-26T09:30:00.000-07:00

Trust me when I say there are a lot of married men who are submissive and their wives have no clue. I know because invariably, they find me, and other Dommes I'm sure, and want a woman to dominate them. A woman who is not their wife.

At first I was very sympathetic. Poor guy got trapped in a marriage with someone who doesn't understand his special needs.

That's bullshit. Almost without exception the married men I've come across knew they were submissive before they married. They knew they craved the dominance of a woman and they chose someone who couldn't give it to them.

Or did they?

I have recently changed my theory on this subject. I now think that if a submissive man picked a woman to marry, she's probably got Dominant characteristics even if she's unaware of it.

And it's my theory that if a woman has Dominant characteristics and someone who will nurture and celebrate that within her, she just might evolve into a Domme with a bit of assistance.

So let's say you're a submissive male in a vanilla marriage. What do you do?

In an ideal world, you'd be able to sit down and rationally explain your kinky desires.

Does anyone live in an ideal world?

My fall back suggestion has always been to slowly introduce the wife to femdom porn. Not the forced bi, strap-on play or even extreme humiliation femdom porn you probably enjoy, not initially anyway. Perhaps you could ramp up to that, but some mild femdom porn could be a conversation starter for you anyway. "Honey that was really hot. Do you think you'd enjoy telling me what to do in bed sometime?"

Now I have a new suggestion - one that will make you her slave for a day or a weekend. If you play it right, maybe you could even turn it into a permanent gig.

Make a bet with your wife. Sports, weather related, whatever. Just make sure it's something you're sure to lose. The loser of this bet would then be required to serve as the other's slave for a designated period of time. A day. A weekend.

I'm guessing a vanilla woman with a slave at her disposal is immediately going to come up with house chores and maintenance for her new slave. And being the submissive male that you are, you'll probably even enjoy it.

But you can take it further. Ask her what you should wear while you do these chores for her. Be a good pet and thank her for your assignments. Kneel at her feet whenever you can. Offer to massage her, bring her favorite beverage to her while she relaxes without being asked. Basically, offer her a taste of what it's like to be in charge and be treated like the goddess she surely is.

If she has even a smidge of dominance in her, she'll adore being adored and served. You may even gradually be able to work in more sensual service activities. If nothing else, after the designated period of service you can let her know how much you enjoyed serving her and doing as she desired. Perhaps you can even suggest that you'd enjoy being told what to do to please her in bed.

You might not be able to fully cultivate the Domme within and establish a 24/7 relationship, but perhaps you could at the very least help her harness her feminine power in the bedroom.

My boy, fireboytoy

2009-10-24T21:19:00.000-07:00

D/s relationship status: former submissive

Relationship status: none

Fireboytoy is an experienced submissive in his late 30's. He was in the process of moving to Las Vegas from the east coast when we met

Read blogs about fireboytoy

'Sub shock' by @prokink

2009-10-22T09:00:00.000-07:00

I've coined the term “sub shock” to describe the catharsis of emotions a sub experiences after doing something for me that shakes them to the core of their manliness.

No matter how many times it happens, it still catches me by surprise. A perfectly enthusiastic sub will occasionally completely freak out on me after a scene. They'll completely shut down and refuse to talk to me. It is particularly difficult with an online sub who will often go AWOL on me.

The first time this happened with me with my pet, I tried to find blogs written by male subs that address the conflicting feelings that arise from reconciling a man's desire to please with his masculinity. There were none.

@prokink, a male sub I met via twitter, volunteered to write on this subject from the male sub perspective. I hope that you find his insights helpful no matter which side of the flogger you're on.

I have been a lifestyle sub for over 14 years and have had vast experiences that have shaped and forged me into the person I am today. By far, the most difficult aspect for me in the beginning was dealing with emotional and mental issues resulting from humiliation and degradation play. More specifically, the emotional burden from strap-on play, panty play, dildo worship, etc...

I'm consider myself a fairly typical professional male- I am 6'-4” and 215 lbs, well spoken, educated and have never had an issue meeting woman. Great for me, eh? Well therein lies the issues that makes some aspects of submission quite difficult to deal with.

How could I reconcile the societal norms of being a man's man all the while wearing panties out in public, eating my own cum or get fucked mercilessly by a strap-on wielding Domme?

My experience with sub shock:

I had just started a wonderful relationship with a Domme and we were out at dinner together. I was 18 or 19 at the time and was a raging ball of hormones. I recall this beautiful girl walking across the room and I glanced at her for a second.

I looked back at my Domme and she smiled at me and asked, "Would you like to fuck her?"

I said, “Yes, Ma'am I would.” She smirked and we continued on with dinner. My fate had been sealed.

Fast forward a few hours and I found myself quite excited being naked, on my knees and awaiting my Domme. At that point, I had no idea this was to be a night I would never forget.

She came into the room, asked me to look at her and asked if I enjoyed disrespecting her at dinner. I knew EXACTLY what she was talking about and I apologized and said I didn't mean to. She said that it's okay, and that I was going to learn to appreciate that which I had in front of me.

I was bent over a bench and pounded by her strap-on for over 30 minutes with a condom on to prevent my goo from dripping everywhere. I was constantly being asked if this is exactly what I wanted to do to that girl at dinner. She asked me why was I crying and whimpering when she was just doing the exact thing I wanted to do to the girl.

Needless to say it was the longest, most humiliating 30 minutes of my life.

She said the best part of sex is the orgasm and that she wanted me to cum, and I gleefully did. It was the only distraction from the discomfort and burning of her constant pounding.

When I came, she pulled out and asked me to remove the condom and look at it. She then took the condom from my hand and leaned over and whispered into my ear that I wasn't finished yet and that I was to swallow the mess. I objected and she said that wasn't a democracy and to open wide.

She laughed, and dumped the contents of the condom down my throat. I gagged and coughed all the while she was berating me for being so inconsiderate to her and that I was just being treated like a good little slut.

She concluded the session and began a bit of aftercare. I shut down and asked if I could be alone. I began to cry. I was angry, humiliated, sad, confused and incredibly hurt.

A line had been crossed. I had been fucked in the ass and I swallowed cum. I had crossed the line into "homosexual" behavior and don't know how it happened.

I fought this in my mind for weeks. Am I now gay? What are my friends going to think if they find out? Why did she do this so me and why/how did I let it happen? Was I wrapped up in the moment? Was I gay and this finally drew it out of me?

I had questions like this for WEEKS. I spoke with my Domme about it and even then I didn't feel any better about the situation. I couldn't reconcile that night with all of the emotional issues it had conjured up. I took me a long time to come to terms with all of the barriers that had been torn down.

During our conversations I kept telling her things that just didn't make sense. Then she asked me two questions that drew it all together for me:

Did I love her and what did that mean to me in terms of submission?

I responded yes and it meant that I would do anything i was capable of to please her. She smiled and reassured me that night, I did exactly that.

Here is what I learned and what helped me reconcile my humiliation, anger and confusion ...

It's not about me. EVER.
My submission to her is a gift, her acceptance of it is a gift as well. It is a special and finite element of our relationship.
My mission is to please her. Trust dictates that her being happy is in my best interest and that my well being is her concern as well. In other words, if she's happy, you'll be happy.
Her violation of my body was demonstrative proof that I was serious about HER. It was a selfless act and that is the very essence of submission. Being selfless to please her.
The very private, intimate things we did were between HER and me. Not between society's norms and us, not what my friends think and us. It was just her and me with no deeper meaning than it was Her will.
When I am humiliated, I am humbled. When I am humbled, I am checking my macho bullshit at the door. When it's checked at the door I am focusing on her. When I focus on her, I AM A BETTER MAN.
When I have my limits pushed, I am demonstrating dedication to her. Words mean nothing. Action is all that counts.
It wouldn't be domination if I only got what I wanted. See rule #1.
When I am uncomfortable - Wearing panties under my clothes, wearing a chastity belt all week, sleeping on the floor in my own house, walking around with humiliating words written in marker all over my body, eating dinner from a bowl on the ground with no hands - I am distracted from day to day things and I am thinking of her. When I am devoting time to thinking about her I am a better sub, I am a better man.
She wants a happy, dedicated sub as much as you want a dedicated Domme.

If you are a sub, remember that when you're confused or freaking out because of a scene, your servitude is being tested and your discomfort means that your limits are being pushed. Relax, this is a great thing and just focus on pleasing your Dom/me. S/he will take care of the rest. :)

Many thanks to @prokink for volunteering to write this and for sharing what must be such intimate thoughts and feelings with my readers.

Akasha's chastity training for my brit

2009-10-20T09:00:00.000-07:00

My brit has flaked on me twice. The first time I chalked it up to newby nerves and gave him a second chance. The second time, I felt I couldn't take him back no matter how much he begged and pleaded.

And let me tell you, my brit is VERY good at begging.

My brit was considering doing Akasha's training class. This session's theme is "Relentless" and it focuses on chastity. I encouraged him to do the training because I know Akasha and feel like her training would be a safe way for him to engage in submission even without submitting to one Domme in a way that he was officially owned.

He continues to be sincere about wanting to come back to me. Knowing how brutal Akasha's training would be, I made my brit a deal. If he can successfully complete Akasha's chastity training, I will consider taking him back.

Training began Friday. The first lesson instructs "You do not have to put on your chastity device yet, and, in fact, I want you to jerk off 5 times each day for the next two days. But no cumming."

Below is the IM conversation I had with my brit as he was completing his first assignment.

my brit: God I need to cum now
Mistress Lilyana: Hehehe
Mistress Lilyana: You won't cum for a month LOL.
my brit: Really?!
Mistress Lilyana: Um yeah. You're in chastity training. What did you think that meant? LOL.
my brit: Too late to back out now
Mistress Lilyana: Good answer!
my brit: But I am feeling tempted already to cum!
my brit: It's very difficult
my brit: oh dear i've made a big wet spot on my knickers already!
Mistress Lilyana: Hehehe

His knickers, by the way, are very cute pink bikini panties with black polka dots that tie on the sides with black ribbon.

As the conversation continued, my brit only continued to get worked up much to my delight. I could't help but ask the obvious:

Mistress Lilyana: Will it be worth it?
Mistress Lilyana: Doing all this so that I can torture you again?
my brit: It will be worth every pang of desire I have to cum, every shade of red I turn as I humiliate myself, and every single last second I spend completing this training

THAT is why my brit is earning another chance with me. :)

THIS is why he amuses me so:

my brit: You;'ll let me cum more than once a month though right?;)