There are panties everywhere!

Today has been productive.  Work was insane thanks to some massive upheavals in my department.  It wasn’t bad so to speak, but it did keep me busy.  The work day just flew by.  Getting home brought about the usual routine of dishes, laundry and cooking dinner.  I’m quite happy with how dinner came out, but the laundry…oh gods the laundry.

Nothing…but…panties.

And here’s the kicker, they were all mine.  I came across underwear I didn’t even know I had.  At last count I owned all of two thongs, now I have six.  At some point in the past six months my thongs had sex and bred a litter of baby thongs who are now mature and yearning to nestle my twig and berries.  There must be at least thirty or so various forms of panties sitting in the laundry basket.  I’m sitting here pulling out one set after another and folding them, convinced that was the last one.  But I was wrong, there was more.  It was like a never-ending laundry bag of womens underwear.

Somewhere, a guy just got a massive hard-on…

The ratio of male-to-female underwear in my wardrobe is surprising.  Having lived as a woman for some time, it’s to be expected that I have some remnants of my old apparel.  Mostly skirts since an ex-boyfriend had a particular fetish for guys in skirts.  I just didn’t expect to have so much freaking underwear.  Most of the lacy fru-fru underwear has long since been discarded, it served no practical purpose other than to make my ex-*insert gender here* horny.  There’s still a respectable collection of cotton panties and three pairs of not-so-cotton shimmery “Hey look, it outlines my dick” material panties.

I seriously need to buy some more boxer-briefs.

Slave Bob: Putting the Snob in BDSM.

I want to use a recent message I read to illustrate just what irks me about BDSM personal ads.  Without fanfare, I give you the writings of Anonymous:

Well if you send me a pic of yourself maybe i can figure out if we have met before as i remember all the faces. I love being a sub, love the strap-on and I love oral sex with a male and female, maybe it was in an orgy or in a BDSM party as I love discipline specially long sessions of the cane and paddle after which i am really horny and willing to be use by a male and female. I am more of a giver than a taker although I love to take it on my ass and love swallowing cum.

Oh yeah, that’s hot.  It makes me want to whip out my cock and start loving myself.  Look, courting in the BDSM world is no different than what you find in the vanilla lifestyle.  Our topics are a bit more risque`, but the principle remains the same.  Introduce yourself, suggest which parties you may have gone to in the past.  Discuss what you like or do not like in a respectful manner.  Let’s re-write Anonymous’ letter to resemble something a well-balanced individual might pen:

Well, I’ve been active in the local scene, so it’s possible we might have met each other at ‘X’ party or ‘Y’ party.  It’s hard to keep track of names and faces really with all that goes on locally.  As you can see, my name is anonymous.  I’m a submissive who enjoys caning and paddles, plus worshiping my dominants.  Discipline is also something I love.  I’m bisexual so male and female are both fine with me.  I rather enjoy anal and oral sex, giving and receiving, though I do prefer to give.  Strap-ons are another source of enjoyment.

Not too bad, it reads like a standard response to a personal advertisement but identifies all the kinky natures without coming across as a buffoon.  We’ve eliminated the reek of desperation and replaced it with a savvy, well-spoken if somewhat bland individual who can clearly express his BDSM desires.  Now, let’s break the message down to its constituent parts:

Well if you send me a pic of yourself maybe i can figure out if we have met before as i remember all the faces.

Be that as it may, it is completely inappropriate to ask for a picture right off the bat.  Furthermore, if you’d bothered to read the profile that this message was sent to, you’d fine additional information and a picture.

I love being a sub, love the strap-on and I love oral sex with a male and female,

Sorry, but loving the strap-on and oral sex does not a submissive make.  I love the strap-on and the oral sex.  I’ve sucked a whole mess of dick in my life.  That does not identify me as a submissive, it identifies me as a slut.  Accurately at that.

maybe it was in an orgy or in a BDSM party as I love discipline specially long sessions of the cane and paddle after which i am really horny and willing to be use by a male and female.

Here Anonymous flirts with the concept of BDSM beyond pure sex, but reverts back to the “I am a desperate, lonely, horny man” stage in short order.  He’s on the right track, it’s possible that the brief contact was made at either an orgy, BDSM party or, dare I say it, both.  It’s the self-advertisement about what happens after a discipline section that bugs me.  We get it, you’re horny.  Join the club, we have jackets.

I am more of a giver than a taker although I love to take it on my ass and love swallowing cum.

Ah the witty wordplay of a truly great writer.  This is pretty much a boilerplate response from someone who identifies as a submissive but is little more than a horny S.O.B..  As a bisexual submissive, I’ll be the first to admit that I take as much as I give.  Hell, there are times when I take more from my Dominant and times when I take less.  Underneath the kink, it’s still a relationship and that’s how every relationship works.  The whole “I’m a giver” routine is just so much bullshit.  We all derive pleasure from different aspects of the BDSM community.  Right now I’m typing this while I cook dinner for my Dominant and do the laundry.  She’s currently tucked out in bed sleeping.  Does that mean that I’m giving more than I’m taking?  Nope, it means that we’re a functioning relationship with clearly defined roles.

Lessons you should take from this: If you want to bounce from one dominant to another, never truly creating the bond that makes being a submissive worthwhile; keep writing messages like Anonymous.  If you want to attract a long-term TPE or 24/7 relationship with a dominant, clean up your personal ads and make it worth the time to get to know you.

This is Slave Bob, and my self-righteous ass is going to finish dinner.

Musings

There are those who seem to have a stylized idea of what the BDSM lifestyle is.  For them it’s a collection of leather and pain collated in one location for a short period.  We’ve all seen the various leather goods that permeate events such as Beyond Vanilla and the Folsom Street Fair.  Fetish attire is by far a common element throughout and it engenders certain views which are not quite accurate.

 This is further compounded by the kinky porn on the Internet.  Many are not engaged in the social aspects of our community.  For them their obsession with BDSM is restricted to porn, day-dreaming and perhaps the occasional slap and tickle with their vanilla significant other.  As can be expected these day dreams eventually result in a wildly fantastical opinion of what it is we actually do.

Being the kind, generous soul that I am; I thought it would be a good time to let everyone in on the secret of the kinky BDSM community:

There isn’t one.

The community is vast and composed of infinite variety.  It’s not all about the leather fetish gear and our events are not solely populated by dominatrix’s who prowl for young men to humiliate.  We’re a collection of people who are tied together by a common thread in that we’re all kinky.  How that kink manifests changes from person to person.

For example: I am a “male” submissive.  If you were to go to collarme.com, alt.com or bondage.com, you would be deluged by an entire army of male submissives.  The vast majority of the personal ads would involve words such as “worshipping women”, “serving my mistress in every way”…etc…etc.  Some would be a bit more risqué, such as the men who want to be used as a human toilet.  Each ad would appear remarkably similar and by perusing the websites you may come to some conclusions about what male submissives want from the BDSM community.  Yet if you were to talk with them directly for a bit of time, you may be surprised to realize that many of them have completely different desires.  What you see in the personal ads is what’s expected of a submissive personal ad.  It’s been colored by the stylized image of what people think BDSM is.  Reality does not set in until after you truly begin talking to the individual.

Of course, this does not sidetrack my firm belief that many, if not the vast majority, of males submissives on such sites are just there for wank material.  Sure they might be nice guys who are fun to hang out with.  Hell, I might go so far as to date some.  That doesn’t mean I don’t look at their personal ads with some degree of scorn.

This takes us on a tangent to the original purpose of this post.  I do not like male submissives.  Try as I might, male submissives always make my hackles rise.  I see one and all I can think is “I must dominate this person”.  It is a rare day when you will see me actually bond as a submissive with other men.  I might like them; there are male submissives I have met who are genuinely decent guys.  I just will not mesh with some as another submissive.  They are instantly below me in the pecking order that is my mind and as such, they must be dominated.  Miss Lotus had a chance to see the tiniest glimpse into my dominant nature when another male submissive was at her apartment.  I was obedient to her orders, with a touch more ‘Smart Ass Masochist’, but I instantly began ordering the other submissive around as he provided the service he was contracted for.  It was a natural reaction.

Female submissives, on the other hand, I get along with.  I don’t know exactly why that is.  I can connect with them as a submissive without feeling the need to be dominant.  Sure I’ve playfully topped an ex in the past when we were in a close, poly relationship, but it was as a game or because I was order to.  It was not a natural desire like I have with men.

I suppose it could be that, to an extent and despite my feminine qualities, I do still have a penis.  Men are naturally competitive and there’s no reason why the world of kink should be exempt from such competition.

What’s In the Bag?

Like all well-trained painslut submissives, I have my own toy bag.  It’s an old rolling suitcase that I’ve adapted to store my various BDSM tools.  I believe that it is important for all masochist oriented submissives to know how to wield and care for the equipment used on their body.  To that end, I thought I would share the contents of my own bag o’fun, just for laughs:

•  Two-foot bamboo oar-paddle
•  Two-foot cedar paddle
•  Horsehair flogger
•  Suede flogger
•  The Lollipop (pressed leather around a bamboo core)
•  20-feet of high-tension chain
•  100-feet of soft nylon rope (1×50ft length, 2×25ft lengths)
•  Rubber mouth bit
•  Poly-synthetic reins
•  30-ft lunge line
•  2 “Oh Shit” handkerchiefs
•  1 bottle of Purell
•  1 bottle of rubbing alcohol
•  First aid kit

By far the most important element of the toy bag is the first aid kit.  I’ve played in heavy scenes, some of which involved blood loss and various injuries.  When your hobby comes with such liabilities, the first aid kit is your best friend.  Scene’s can go bad and it is always a good idea to have one on hand.

Dear Penthouse;

I never thought this would happen to…

Oh who am I kidding.  Not only did I expect something like this to happen, but it’s certainly happened before.

Saturday was the Voyager’s party here in Austin.  I’m still a fairly recent arrival to the local scene and a friend of mine brought me to Voyager’s with her not long after I’d arrived in town.  That was the first night I’d met Miss Lotus actually, she had me naked and writhing in pain within minutes.  Ever since then, I’ve made it a point to hit the Voyager’s parties as regularly as possible.

This Saturday marked a highlight.  For starters, I was physically assaulted and tickled into near-unconsciousness by an entire flock of beautiful women.  This was followed by a delicious round of beating at the hands of multiple dominant females.  It was quite thorough and reduced me to tears.  Frankly, I needed the cathartic release that came with the pain.  The week had been intense and it really helped to clear my mind.

Then there was the orgy…or close enough that it might as well have been one.  Miss Lotus decided to have a go at two beautiful young women with her borrowed cock, an eight-inch long synthetic strap-on.  Assisting her in this was a team of experienced dominants, submissives and swingers who I will refer to as Team Lotus from here on after.  Miss Lotus handled the fucking, Team Lotus handled the logistics.  I spent the event providing various support to the poor girls being rammed by this massive strap-on.  I’ve been in enough group sex scenes to know just how painful it can be to hold various positions for extended periods.  To alleviate that, I’m well trained in being organic sex furniture.  It also provided me with easy access to various bits to grope.

So, the weekend consisted of sex, floggings, sex, beatings, more sex, delicious food, a tattoo and sex.  That, my friends, is a damn good weekend.

De Plane! De Plane!

If you don’t get the reference…god you’re young.

Gems of the Internet:

Before I depart for parts unknown (S. Austin) and engage in wanton debauchery (do the dishes), I thought I’d leave everyone with this particular nugget of wisdom:

The difference between erotic and kinky sex….

It’s erotic when you stroke your lover’s body with a feather -
It’s kinky when the feather is still attached to the bird.

Tattoo Tattoo

The inking has been done and the bar code you see above has been beautifully etched into my back by quite the talented artist.  It was enlarged significantly in order to be more distinct so the area between my shoulder blades is now loving adorned by my slave registration number.  It looks awesome.  I’ll be certain to upload pictures in short order, but for the moment they’re sitting on Miss Lotus’ camera.

Fun fact: Having the area between your shoulder blades tattooed guarantees that you will hurt no matter what body part you move.

I’ll write more on this later, but the announcement needed to be made.  Bob is inked!

I’m Singing in the Rain!

 This is what we can unanimously agree is a good thing.  Gaze upon what Miss Lotus is capable of and despair.  Unless your me, I’m actually pretty fucking peachy at the moment.

Down side, I have to sleep in that.

Whinny the Pooh

If you’re picturing Milne’s cute little yellow-ish bear…excellent.  Keep up that mental image, I’m about to rape your childhood.

If one were to ask what part of my BDSM lifestyle is the most bizarre, I think the answer is unequivocally pony play.  Let’s be honest with ourselves, pretending you’re a horse and being treated like an animal is somewhat degrading.  Anyone would classify it as humiliation, which we all know I cannot stand, yet I do it anyway.

This will be an unusual admission, but the fetish monkey’s will probably understand this.  Imagine being in a position where you surrender complete control to someone.  I mean total exchange of power.  Pony play is essentially putting your entire existence at that moment in the hands of your dominant/owner.  All of the essentials to life are provided at their whim.  You cannot talk, often you’re blinded and completely relying on someone to lead you and when not being shown or used, you’ll often find yourself tied up in a stall.  You may even be hobbled to prevent you from getting away.  It’s an incredible experience when you have someone you trust in charge.

Pet play in general is an amazing experience and can be divided in to three general categories:

Pony Play: It’s all about surrendering control to your owner.

Kitten Play: The SAMs pet play of choice.  It involves being rambunctious and a downright little shit.

Puppy Play: Discipline, nothing more and nothing less.  Oh there might be some rough and tumble, but by and large it’s a game that reinforces discipline between puppy and owner.

Also, furries repeat after me.  I am not a real pony (kitten, puppy).  I am a human being.  I will stop getting my furry bullshit all over Bob’s play time.