As the great femdom validity experiment continues, (more like meanders underneath everything else, but hey,) more still becomes apparent; in part, a byproduct of our environment. While female-led relationships aren’t quite what one would call common, they are moreso in the kinky subculture. But even still, not 24/7. That was something I specifically wanted to explore as part of the greater experiment as a whole. While it’s ongoing, I have a few findings — which likely won’t be encouraging for some.

In short, total-power-exchange relationships don’t work.

Now anyone who grew up in a female-led household (such as myself) is going to balk at that and remain sceptical. I was, too. But remember, this isn’t just about what’s possible — it’s also about what’s healthy. Regardless of sex or gender, a total power exchange relationship quickly becomes fertile ground for abuse. That understanding lies in the very foundation of what makes one mature versus immature. Most traits and behaviours can be classified according to whether they are synonymous with adult accountability or juvenile dependency. Paradoxically, the stereotypical female dominant expresses more juvenile-dependent traits and behaviours — rivalling those of most children! Self-entitlement, required assistance, no accountability, emotional manipulation to have own way, irresponsibility, recklessness, enablement, ignoring social etiquette, self-centredness, arrogance, refusal to share or compromise, use of others’ resources, and dependent upon another for most things.

It really baffled me. Conceptually, the female dominant is in charge, which allows the male submissive to be youthful, child-like and at her mercy. But in reality, practical application seems to fly in the face of theory and the abstract representation of what femdom should be. Over time, it becomes perplexing — and misleading — as to just what real femdom is — or even should be. If the male subs are the ones doing all of the work, providing a framework in which the domme can even function, then the members of that dynamic are seriously fooling themselves as to which direction the power is flowing.

To further my point, a bit of developmental psychology. And a lot of metaphor. Of course, to avoid it being too dry, there will be pirates. (You like pirates, right? Who doesn’t like pirates?) (more…)

Sometimes, I seriously wonder about people. What they’re honestly thinking. I mean, I was born in the morning, but it wasn’t this one. Although, I don’t really find this applicable in my everyday existence, what’s kept me from being a card-carrying member of MENSA is the fact that I couldn’t reconcile forking over the dough. In other words, I’m a genius. Changes nothing, and really more a bit of trivia than anything. Still, the length to which people go to try and fool me, or believe that they have, never fails to amaze me.

Case in point: the email I receive. Some of it has a distinct trend; if it’s not from a BMF, or likely to result in a satisfying new professional relationship, I immediately begin to detect the foul stench of bullshit — the worst kind, too; that which has been perfumed and disguised as as to appear like anything but the steaming pile of crap it is.

Most of the time, it’s harmless. Lonely men incapable of drawing the line between reality and fantasy, or all out preferring that it remain blurred at best. No matter how truly fantastic the claims may be. This is why I suspect they’ve come to me already in-role, presenting fantasy as if it were reality. It’s a delicate dance, though. Should they not be nursing some latent psychosis, they always know on some level that I can’t possibly be buying this. You’ve all seen it before, too: 24/7 relationships. Victims of blackmail. His wife, instead of being traumatised by finding her husband with another woman, joining forces with the offending party to punish said philandering husband for the rest of his days, engaging in subbie-hubbie wetdream fantasyland. (more…)

It’s a lovely afternoon in Southern California, especially Los Angeles at the Hilton just off the international airport. Dommes of all shape and size are sitting down to tea served by devoted submissive men at the 5th annual DomCon LA’s official Mistresses Tea event. Some of us are professional, others are strictly lifestyle. We all have one thing in common, though: navigating the ever-changing climate of the kinky subculture and taking refuge in a sisterhood that continues to grow through such events, bridging the gap of nationality and geography alike. A commonality we don’t share is the constant tightrope walk in which a dominatrix (that is, a pro-domme) has to walk. One such very experienced lifestyler left us all with a nugget of wisdom after witnessing such acrobatics throughout her lifetime in the scene by the simple phrase: ‘I couldn’t do it.’ The struggle to maintain the line between professional and private — social and commercial, client and companionship — was just too difficult. In that regard, she stated quite confidently that lifestylers have it easy. Thinking back on my own years as a lifestyler, (8 years total, as of this year, for the curious) I couldn’t help but agree that she had a point.

It’s not easy.

I also marvel at some days when I wake up and think how the hell I even got here. When I was a little girl, I dreamt of being all kinds of things: Vampire Queenes, powerful sorceresses weaving spells under whom many a hapless prince fell before long, daring super-spies — capable of death-defying feats, but their ultrapowers of seduction being the best weapon in their arsenal; when I got a bit older and decided I still liked the foreign (or domestic) intelligence agent / investigator route, I figured I could satisfy the other cravings by simply taking the stage and being an actress. I subsequently spent several years there in theatre, but really longed to run the show myself: writing, directing, producing, and performing — the whole nine yards. That became a goal I’ve yet to solidly keep on the back-burner. No matter how I try, it’s always coming back to the forefront — as deep passions tend to do. So, how does a retail wench, office coordinator, administrative assistant, service industry professional — none of which ever really utilise her education in Psychology — and especially not Forensic Psychology — end up a dominatrix? Well, not that dramatically, to be honest. Combine a down economy with a move to a bustling new city full of an entirely different demographic, add more than a sprinkle of distaste for being anyone’s employee, a dash of the thrill of self-employment, heat on high with a strong business model — and away you go! Viola! Dominatrix a la mode. (Though, if you really want to hear something funny, ask me or headslave about ‘dildo stew.’)

Which brings us to … headslave. (more…)