My swinging New Year's Eve

Las Vegas locals understand New Year's Eve is amateur night. Tourists flood the strip, traffic is a nightmare and the weather is always bitter cold. But the Gentleman wanted to ring in the new year with me in a fun way and I agreed.

He'd booked us into a high end swingers party at a club with an after party for play. I'd been on their mailing list for years but had never attended an event. I donned fishnets, my sexiest heels and a cocktail dress and stepped back into swinging, an interest I'd previously abandoned. 

I've always enjoyed sharing. Threesomes are among my favorite sexcapades. But the one full swap I'd attempted years ago with my FMT was a failure and I've since grown to appreciate the quality sex that comes from a quality relationship. I'd also grown frustrated with trying to find youngish, attractive couples in the swinger community. 

There's something about being involved with a new person you really enjoy that gives you a new perspective on things and, never being one to avoid a new sexual adventure, I agreed to give swinging another shot.

During the first couple of hours of the party, we drank, flirted with the bartender and scoped out the other couples. I was pleasantly surprised at how young and attractive the other couples were and that it seemed the new guy and I had similar taste in women. 

As the night progressed and we consumed more alcohol, we began to get to know other couples. After toasting the new year and watching the fireworks at midnight, we returned to the warmth of the club to find one particularly hot couple at the bar. She was wearing a sexy dress that displayed most of her amazing breasts and one of those New Years crowns.

"Go ask her where she got her hat," Gent suggested. I'd warned him I'm terrible at hitting on women and he was "helping." I protested a little and then went up to her. 

"Happy new year!"

"Happy new yeeeear to you too!" She said with a thick, Southern accent. 

"Where did you get that?" I asked pointing at her crown. 

"That barteender gave it to me," she said. I just wanted to keep her talking so I could try to guess where she was from. It's a hobby of mine, placing a Southern accent. I'm pretty good at it. 

"Wow her accent is worse than yours," Gent declared. "You're from Texas aren't you?"

She and I both said, "No," at the same time. 

"Ah'm fruum Georgia," she said. 

"Ooh mah gawd," I said, my own accent emerging, "I'm from Canton! Where are yoooou fruum?"

She reached out to touch her date in excitement. "Did yooou heear where she's fruum? She's from Canton!"

Her date looked at me with something between terror and delight in his eyes. "Ooh mah gawd! When did you graduate high school?"

"'91. You?"

"Ah'm 9 years older'n you," he said. 

I gave him my name and asked his. He told me his name and it was the name of someone I knew but didn't know well.

"Ooh yeeaah! I kneew you! You were on the yearbook staff riiight?"

His date laughed and punched him playfully. "Tell her who you reeeally are!"

He somewhat reluctantly gave me his real name. "Ah'm sorry but ah just met you at a swingers party in Vegas! I didn't want to tell you who I reeeally ahm!"

I had never known him but I'd known his sister. And of course we knew all of the same people having grown up in the same tiny town. 

We probably spent a half hour comparing notes on people we knew and places we'd frequented, my accent becoming thicker by the moment. She was from the next town over and knew my cousins so she had something to contribute. My date, however, was lost in our heavy accents and talk about people and places he didn't know. Gent laughed that they probably knew more about me than he did. 

"Ah bet you've been out on Turtle Creek," the guy said.

"Of course ah have! I had sex on the creek bank with mah first boyfrieend. Had a huuuuge bruise on my back from the rocks for a week!"

And so it went for the rest of the evening. Like every boy that grew up in my hometown, he'd fished in the lake my grandparents had lived on. He'd had beers at the bar my eighth grade crush now owned. At the after party we continued to learn how much more we had in common, such as neither his lady nor I wore panties. 

Gent and I circulated around the after party, my fishnets in his suit pocket like a naughty handkerchief, making out with each other in pretty much every room in the house. I may or may not have ruined his shoes when he made me squirt in the laundry room but I definitely sucked his cock in the bathroom. 

We didn't swing but had a lovely, sexy evening nonetheless. At about 3:45 AM, we decided to call it a night and went to find our new friends to say our goodbyes. 

"Y'all are leavin'?" the guy from my hometown protested. His partner was happily being chatted up by two single guys while he played pool. 

"Yeah, it's late. But it was so great to meet y'all," I said as I moved to hug him. 

Somewhere in the process of untangling myself from his hug, he kissed me. And I kissed him back. 

"Mmmm NOW I believe you're from Canton," he said. 

"What? You didn't believe me before?!?"

"Nah."

"It's not like we don't know all of the same people or anything."

"No, you coulda been lyin' to me but now that I've kissed you, I KNOW you're from Canton. You kiss just like a Canton girl. Dayum. Yummm."

My boy, The Gentleman (Gent)

D/s relationship status: N/A

Relationship status: dating

After a more than 2.5 year hiatus of intentionally not bringing anyone new into my life, in December of 2015, I decided to start dating again. The Gentleman was my first, first date in a very long time. He's an entrepreneur in his mid forties who has lived all over the world. While he's naturally dominant, loves threesomes and is super open minded, he has not had a ton of exposure to the BDSM or swinging lifestyles and is enjoying exploring with me.

Read blogs about The Gentleman (Gent)

Playing with (and kissing) bon-bon again

Bon-bon walked in to find me lounging on his sofa, sipping Riesling, watching porn and texting my friend. Ever the good boy, he came to me and kissed my hand in greeting.

"Hello, Mistress."

He looked delicious as he always does in the crisply pressed white shirt and jeans I'd requested he wear to work that day. But perhaps even more delicious was the anxiety that rolled off of him in waves. 

It had been a couple of years since we had  played together but he knew that little fact wouldn't buy him any leeway with me thanks to our texts the night before our first play date. 

"Getting very excited about this... Kinda nervous."

"I promise not to kill you or permanently injure you."

"I am putting myself totally in your care and I know that you will protect me."

"No, I'll most certainly hurt you but you'll enjoy letting me."

And during the two times we've played since, I've certainly hurt him and he's definitely enjoyed letting me. 

During the first session, I tied his wrists with my beautiful scarlet hemp rope that had been neglected for far too long. I secured it to the stairway bannister so that his hands were stretched over his head and I could admire his sculpted body completely before I unloaded my impact toys and beat him with most everything in my bag. 

During our second session, I switched between deceptively sweet strokes to his cock and hard smacks while I watched his face contort from adoration to something akin to surprise and pain and back again. 

His responses were as beautiful as I remembered. What I'd forgotten, but was reminded of again quickly, was how much he seemed to crave my kisses. As he knelt naked before me, he couldn't seem to get enough of kissing me. Even blindfolded and taking whatever pain I dealt out, he turned to me seeking my lips and my tongue frequently. 

And in that way, I did not deny him. 

She's baaaaaack!

Nodder has been in and out of my life for five years as a play partner, lover and much much more.

In February, things ended. He moved out of my home and, eventually, out of my state. We continued talking until April when I finally severed ties completely. 

It's been difficult in some ways but overall, it's been much easier to get over the love of my life than it should have been. Certainly easier this time than the other times we've broken up. I should probably go into detail on why but I won't. It's a very un-sexy explanation. 

Let's just say I lost myself and leave it at that. 

I also lost my Mistressness - my sexy, sadistic side - the thing that attracted nodder to me in the first place. He didn't take it with him when he left. It had been eroded slowly over time as I fell more in love with him. 

I've always found it difficult to be a good Domme to someone I love. For me, it takes a little distance to dominate someone well. But being IN love with my sub seems to make domming even more challenging for me. 

Cohabitation didn't help matters. It was impossible for me to feel dominant after working all day and coming home to a messy house when he'd spent the day napping and watching TV. 

My main love language is service. It makes me hot to have a guy do things for me. I came home once to a clean kitchen and was instantly wet. Unfortunately, that only happened once. 

Don't get me wrong. I didn't expect him to be some kind of slave and he wasn't a lazy bum. But a little more help would have gone a long way. I just didn't feel dominant when I was picking up his socks off the floor and, admittedly, I found it difficult to articulate that effectively to him. 

While I did, in fact, feel my dominant desires fading during the last six months of our relationship, our domestic bliss more than made up for it. The pseudo-vanilla sex (I cannot say it was ever totally vanilla) was amazing and we'd built a happy life together. I enjoyed having him as a partner and barely missed my Mistressness. 

And I didn't miss it much after he left, at least not right away. In the months after our breakup, as I began to heal and find myself again, I would occasionally feel a fleeting pang of dominant desire. However, it took a visit from Dr Dom / Mr Subby to reawaken my Mistressness. 

After a year apart, his visit was more about reconnection than kink. Still, his yummy subbiness and the fact that we'd completed one item off my kinky bucket list left me feeling adored and powerful. I'd found my RAWR again. 

And now, seven months post breakup, one of my favorite boy toys, bon-bon, is back for more. 

As I plot and plan for our playtime next week, as I carefully consider every kinky detail, I hear a little voice saying, 

"She's baaaaaack!"

And I feel more like me than I have in a really, really long time. 

It's like a real relationship

So you may have noticed I snuck in a blog last week without explaining why I have not really written in ten months or tell you what I've been doing during that time.

And if you're a long time reader of mine, you may have noticed the blog was about nodder, a former sub of mine that I began seeing almost four years ago.

Yep, he's back.

The truth is that he's been back in my life for a while now. And maybe if I'm being totally honest with myself, he'd never truly left. Sure, he'd moved a few states away. And yeah, we've both dated other people. But since he first messaged me on fetlife fours years ago, he's had my heart. It's just taken every bit of those four years for us to get our shit together and form a semblance of a healthy, sustainable relationship.

Things are really, really good for us and seem to be getting better every day. We've woven each other into our day to day lives becoming the couple I never seriously considered we could be. We know each others friends. We have TV shows we watch together. He has a shelf in my closet and some of his clothes always end up in my laundry. I have "boy soap" in my shower and a bottle of his antacid in my kitchen. He has a key to my house. He's even met my mother.

It's like a real relationship.

And while I'm still poly, I'm not seeing other guys. I've chosen to focus on my relationship with nodder and allow my relationships with my play partners to evolve into friendships.

I do still see and enjoy Elle though. She's the lesbian loophole to our monogamous relationship and one that neither nodder nor I feel that I should give up.

The D/s is still there with nodder and it's as hot as it ever was. We've even ventured into new areas of interest as well as pushed existing boundaries. But it's also different, less formal.

He's every bit as good at taking care of me as he's ever been. He still enjoys serving me and I definitely still enjoy being served. But he does it without calling me Mistress. We've somehow evolved away from the honorifics and what little protocol I previously required.  

I can't say I don't sometimes miss the more formalized D/s we once had. And I know if I wanted it back, he'd be game for it. Yet somehow, this more casual D/s relationship seems to better fit the more serious dating relationship we have now.

I also feel like I need that layer of formality less. Over the years I've grown more comfortable with who I am and I guess who I am is a little less Mistressy than I'd previously thought.

Don't get me wrong. I still LOVE control. I still love tease and denial, rope and humiliation. I still love seeing him on his knees for me and I'm still sadistic as fuck. It's just woven into our relationship so tightly that we don't need the pomp and circumstance surrounding D/s protocol anymore.

Up until recently, I've been very careful not to publicize our relationship in both our kinky and our vanilla social media circles. I've been calling him "the boy" on twitter and, until a couple of weeks ago, I hadn't been tagging him in my vanilla Facebook pictures.

It has been nice to spend these months nurturing our renewed relationship (not to mention playing) without a few thousand extra sets of eyeballs "watching." However, I've missed writing this blog very much and as I wrote "Shaved head," I knew it was time to begin sharing again through this blog.

I've realized that while our relationship is still rather fragile, I'm ready to share my happiness (and hotness) with the world again.

Shaved head

"How do you feel about shaving my head?" nodder asked.

"About you having a shaved head or me shaving it?"

"Either. Both. What do you think?"

"I think it's a great idea."

"You do?"

I had to laugh. Of course I thought it was a good idea. Shaved heads are sexy.

I told him to get in my large, garden tub. He stripped, stepped in and knelt without my asking. I smiled at his submissiveness, sat on the edge of the tub and grabbed the clippers. I must have been grinning.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"Yep," I said, the clippers rattling to life in my hand. He bowed his head.

I pushed the clippers through his soft hair watching it part from his scalp and scatter to the bottom of the tub. I'd never shaved someone's head before but I wasn't scared.

When I paused to remove the clipper guard, he leaned over and pressed his lips to the inside of my thigh. I laughed softly and ran my palm over his closely shorn scalp. He moaned and pushed his head into my hand like a cat wanting to be petted.

"You want to see how it looks now?" It was short but not shaved. I wanted to give him one last chance to back out.

"No. Do you like it?"

"Yeah. Do you still want to shave it all the way?"

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Ok, let's do it."

I used the clippers all over. His hair was as short as it could be without a razor. I turned on the faucet, warming the water, and then used the hand held shower massager to rinse away the hair I'd just cut. 

I handed him the hand held shower massager and then I reached for my honey mango shaving cream. 

"Have I ever told you about this shaving cream?" I asked as I squeezed a dollop into my palm. 

"No, I don't think so."

"It actually makes good lube." I said, slowly rubbing the cream into his scalp.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes. My first girlfriend and I once used it to play in the bath tub. And then afterwards, she used it to masturbate because it reminded her of me."

"Mmmmm," he moaned. Was it because he was thinking of me with her or was it because I was rubbing his head? I couldn't tell.

I picked up a pink razor and began the final step to giving him a gloriously shaved head. As I shaved his head, he bathed my legs and feet with warm water, his hands following the water with loving caresses. It felt wonderful and was more than a little distracting. Still, I managed to shave his head without nicking his skin. 

I used the razor on his scalp from multiple angles, my palm following my strokes trying to detect anything I'd missed. Finally, when I was through, I took the hand held shower massager from him and began to rinse his scalp. 

He lifted his head and looked up at me through the water rolling down his face, eyelashes damp and dark around his big brown eyes that were as full of submission, as sexy as they'd ever been when he had hair.

Sexier even.

Romkink - by the writer

Last August I wrote about my frustration with the lack of romantic gestures I see from male subs. It was a subject I'd debated on twitter with a couple of my favorite Femdoms, Ferns and Dumb Domme. After my post, Ferns shared her thoughts on her blog. The subject was revisited by Dumb Domme recently, and then again by Ferns. After the writer had read their blogs, he asked if he could write a post on the subject. I thought it would be great to feature a sub's perspective on the subject. 

I call it romkink -- that mixture of kink and romance that Lilyana, Ferns, and Dumb Domme have been blogging about. From a male sub perspective, there's nothing more intoxicating -- and, perhaps, interestingly contradictory. Because what I want (and, oh, do I love romkink) is for the sub to be very, very specific and the Domme not to be specific at all.

Why? First of all, it's all about emotion. In that, romkink is no different from any other kind of romance. I've been in relationships where the kink is only in the bedroom, a spice. In that case, the romance is separate and apart from anything kinky. I've been in kinky relationships where romance is not only not required but not wanted. But romkink means the two are bound up together -- the romance is all about the love of the woman to whom I'm submitting.

When I submit without romance, it's all about the acts. When I submit romantically, it's about my emotional bond to my mistress. The sexual rush is the same with or without the romance. But the emotional rush that accompanies romkink is mind-bending. She could say, "walk around the block," and I would get hard.

What she can't say is "buy me some flowers." At that point, buying flowers becomes a task. That's not the same as "I may be a Domme, but I still want romance in my relationships." If I hear that, she’s not creating a task. She’s telling me something about what she craves and something about herself.

That leaves it up to me to figure out what she would find romantic. And that's where the sub's specificity comes in. The only way to be romantic (in a kinky or entirely vanilla relationship) is to know your love very, very well. To show your Domme that you are truly interested in her -- not just her play. To know what excites her, certainly. But also to know whether she loves flowers or has hay fever.

My favorite romantic gesture is to give a present when there is no reason at all. Not on her birthday or your play anniversary or a holiday. Giving a gift just because you see something she would love.

Of course, to know what that is, you have to know what she loves. You have to have paid attention. One of the most romantic things I've ever given Lilyana was a plastic jug of Bloody Mary mix. It didn't look romantic at all. It looked industrial. But I knew that she loved that drink, and I knew she couldn't get this mix where she lives. And we'd talked enough about her tastes that I knew the exact spice quotient of this would please her. And it did. Her delight was as thrilling to me as a red ass or a month in chastity.

When I write erotica for her, I write about things I know she finds exciting. I don't add fantasies that excite me but don't excite her. I wrote to woo her, I wrote when we played long distance, and I write now that we are non-playing friends. Each story is a gift, tailored to her.

And when I write romkink, I don't just strive to make her wet. I strive to lace the story with my love for her. To keep it hot and kinky but very, very deeply emotional. To make it clear that the act of writing itself is an expression of how she stirs not just my cock but my soul.

I wrote this because LIlyana and I have discussed romkink. Because I knew she wanted new material for her blog. Being submissive, I asked her whether she would like me to do this. And only when she said yes did I sit down and compose what you’ve just read, clearing time in my day so I could give her a small gift.

This post is a romantic gesture.