Truly thankful

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

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

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)

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

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

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

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!