Sunday, January 30, 2011

Sorry I haven't been posting much

Sorry I haven't been posting much; things have been a little crazy for me. I expect some posts will be coming soon after I get physically exhausted trying to deal with all the snow with a shovel and a plow-equipped lawn tractor that's not running.

Saturday, January 29, 2011


Sometimes I look at what I want in a woman, and think it seems awfully ambitious. Then I think that it's basically exactly what I'm offering, except for a few details. That feels a little narcissistic. Also I feel a bit arrogant about thinking what I offer constitutes ambitious goals.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Criteria, desiderata, and frivolities

I've been thinking about what I'll be looking for in a future wife; seems like it's worthwhile to get it written down. I think writing it down may help me keep from falling for the first person who seems vaguely compatible. I'm sure this list will evolve as I think about it, and as you give advice. It's divided into 1) criteria, things I think will be necessary to make a marriage to me work; 2) desiderata, things that would be big pluses but are not essential; and 3) frivolities, very unimportant things that I figured I'd throw in as long as I was making a wish list.


-Switch, into D/S from both sides
-Sympathetic to my "putting your partner on a pedestal" view of D/S; focus on voluntary abasement play rather than force play
-Not grossed out by fluids
-Wants to give and receive orgasms every other day at absolute minimum
-At least once a week wants to spend hours on sex with costumes, roleplaying
-Willing to wait for sex until married (Combining this with the above will of course be truly difficult; but I think the woman who feels the same way will be awfully glad to find me.)
-Masturbates frequently and is willing and able to describe most of the fantasies involved. (How frequently?)
-Likes my erotica and got wet to something I wrote ('cause I think it represents my tastes and thinking pretty well)
-Likes oral both ways (cunnilingus and fellatio)
-Moves well or has a good reason why not; that is, physically active, or legitimately disabled
-Pretty, by my standards (includes most women under 60 years old and some over)
-Christian (Frankly I'd prefer to move this one into desiderata but after discussing the relevant scriptures with friends and thinking it over, I can't.)
-Not afraid of guns
-No problem with dogs
-No current drinking problem
-No drug habit


-Has experienced the emotional pain of a partner not as interested in sex
-Interest in lots more sex than the every other day listed above
-No children
-Interest in martial arts
-Interest in guns
-Interest in tabletop role-playing games
-Not much interest in rape play
-Moderate drinker


-Near my own age
-Nose like an eagle
-Teeth like a horse
-Dark hair
-No tattoos/piercings

These kind of lists are always a little disappointing to me as I read someone else's and hear I'm not their perfect match, even if I knew that before. Sorry if anyone else feels the same way.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Age differences

Some of the things I used to think of as inescapable criteria in finding a partner are eroding; because as I talk to people who see things differently I'm not finding a foundation to it. One of them is age. I always used to think it was really super creepy for an older man to get romantically involved with a much younger woman; mostly if I was the older man. I never thought the same way when the genders were reversed. So if it's not a bad thing for an older woman to be involved with a younger man, why is it such a bad thing when it's the other way around? The happiest marriage I know much about, Determined Girl and One-Man Carnival Guy, has 15 years difference (the guy is the older one).

There have been a lot of little instances giving me the feeling no one else cared that much about the age differences. The most recent is that the woman I was talking to so much at Dorian's said some things that gave me the false impression she was about 20-21, and I started feeling really awkward at even hanging around talking to her, and explained that not only was I not looking for a relationship but I was secretly a decrepit 41. She's actually 26. And she dated a 42 year old when she was 22. So here I am saying I feel creepy at being admittedly kind of flirty and she tells me she dated an older man than me when she was younger.

I've been looking for why I thought matching age was such a big hairy deal, and I'm not coming up with anything. It never had any foundation of logic beneath it.

I guess it was really because my fragile ego didn't want to face the idea of being the creepy old man. It's seeming like I was the only one who cared.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Attempting to be social: Success

So, storytime and rambling observations. I was at Dorian's Parlor, something like a cross between a steampunk/neovictorian cabaret an a miniature con. I was there with friends, and feeling like I wanted to confront my fear that I'm a big giant unattractive mess of socially-inept, and the corollary fear that my decision to be abstinent until remarried is moot because I couldn't get any anyway.

Rook's husband the Progressive Gun Fan, who's been there several times, started out showing me around the place and introducing me to people, many of whom were very flirty women, which was very nice of him but I figured that wasn't the way he wanted to spend the whole evening. I faded out to let him go flirt (open marriage) and started talking to an acquaintance I don't know well, then graduated to trying to make friends with a complete stranger. I spotted a pretty woman hanging out by the wall alone. So, I went over and complimented her dress and struck up a conversation. We hung out watching the performances and chatting for the next two hours or so. I eventually explained a little about why I was not looking for a relationship and apologized if I'd been wasting her time, but I didn't get the vibe that I had been. Especially since we exchanged email addresses and phone numbers at the end of the evening. I told her about my need for volunteers to help me practice my old Swedish massage techniques, and it turns out she's studied too but also never went to the time and expense to get certified. (Certification/licensing in most states is basically a matter of going through some fairly brief training, then paying an instructor to watch you work on people for hundreds of hours more, 600 total in PA.) So we've been in email contact and are going to get together Thursday for a practice session.

I had totally forgotten until this that my ex used to say I was charming, many years ago.


Earlier in the evening, The Progressive Gun Fan introduced me to a very touchy, very conventionally attractive woman. She kept taking my hand or touching my chest, so apparently she found me attractive; I didn't touch back because 1) abstinent and 2) near total stranger. She has an interest in entomology and told me her theory about how ants were more advanced than humans because of the way they work together to promote the good of the colony. I pointed out how the worker ants were all sterile and their only opportunity to promote their own genes was through promoting the colony. At that point she wandered off, either because I was totally into the conversation not her body or she was a bit offended by my disagreement on ant motives. Hey, some of my best friends are human. Humans are actually a totally awesome species and tend to get put down by means of bad science all the time, like this ant comparison. Humans, I've got your back.

I noticed that when I was introduced to women, the women who I'd think were above my league were pretty flirty and the women who I'd think were in it were pretty reserved, even giving a subtle defensive vibe. It's possible I was causing this by being more forward with the ones I thought were in my league, but I don't think so. I think I was seeing the mirroring of something I used to do; I took this sort of "I will NOT make myself a fool for you" attitude when I met a woman who struck me as so hot she was hard for my brain to deal with. This has not happened to me in a very long time.

In honesty one part of my brain says I was one of the best-looking guys at the event, and another part says "no you are completely unattractive. Remember how your ex reacted. You are overweight and one of your eyes is higher than the other and the end of your nose is bulbous and only women can really be attractive etc."


If you are a man finding yourself at a steampunk event and can bring off bowing and kissing the air above a woman's hand naturally, when you are introduced, do it. It goes over very well. You do not actually kiss the hand or get all that close, a few inches is about right. It probably helps that I do this kind of thing, not because it goes over well, but because it's the kind of thing I always do in a venue that lets me get away with it.


BTW, if you're ever at an event and see me, please introduce yourself. I would be fascinated and honored to actually meet a reader. Please, though, as my meatspace friends do not know me as Mousie, just mention you read my blog rather than the name of the blog or my name.

Attempting to look Neovictorian

This is me attempting to look Neovictorian. Costume exhibitionism!

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Tolerance, Acceptance, Love

Universal acceptance is not my goal; not everything should be accepted. Factory livestock farming is an example that comes to mind; I've never heard anyone defend it, but most people accept it because changing it is too hard or too expensive. Likewise, universal tolerance is not my goal; not everything should be tolerated. The goal is love; not that everything should be loved, but that everyone should be loved.

A lot of times you'll hear Christians say "Hate the sin, but not the sinner." This is not a Bible quote, according to Snopes it's from Mohandas Gandhi's autobiography. The Bible does mention loving the sinner, extensively, and it does at least once mention hating sin, but I can only remember it mentioning that in the context of the sin in oneself, not in others. We're really supposed to be concerned with our own behavior and our own relationships with God, not so much other's.

Sometimes the love must be tough love. Even further, sometimes with a particularly violent sort the love of the victims must be more of a guide. Usually it's much simpler.

So that's my goal. Not tolerance, not even acceptance, love.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Eastern Spicy Stew

Because I didn't have time today to write up anything very interesting, here's a recipe for what I was cooking.

Eastern Spicy Stew

This is a recipe I made up while trying to come up with a healthy recipe that was a pretty complete meal except for starch, which I could cook a lot of and freeze. I was trying to make chili based partly on a weird Eastern concept of chili I got from my mother from Philadelphia, and partly on vauge notions of Mexican cuisine. It ain't chili, but it's fairly popular with my friends. You will need a large stock pot for simmering it and a big frying pan for browning the meat.

2 lbs canned dark red kidney beans (2 16oz cans)
2 lbs canned pinto beans
2 lbs canned cans black beans
5 lbs canned diced tomatoes (2 28oz cans)
6 cubes chicken boullion
2 pounds ground venison, bison, or lean beef (in order of preference)
3 pounds chorizo, sliced or crumbled
2 green bell peppers, diced
2 red bell peppers, diced
2 yellow or orange bell peppers, diced
9 jalapeño peppers, sliced
2 spanish onions, diced
1 cup chopped cilantro
1 pound frozen sweet corn
1 bulb garlic, peeled and crushed/chopped
1 teaspoon cocoa powder
1 teaspoon cumin powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon powder

Drain the beans and start them simmering with the tomatoes and the cubes of chicken boullion.
Stir every 15-20 minutes.
Now is a good time to slice the chorizo, peppers, and onions.

After 1-1/2 hours, brown the ground meat and add it, then brown the chorizo and add that.
Finish slicing the peppers and onions if you haven't.

After 2-1/2 hours (another hour), add the peppers and onions, bring it back to a simmer.
Peel the garlic and chop the cilantro.

After 3 hours (another half-hour), chop and add the garlic, cilantro, corn, cocoa, cumin, and cinnamon. Stir and taste; if it needs salt, add more boullion cubes. Stir every 10 minutes.

After 3-1/2 hours total, it's ready.

It's best when the cilantro is fresh, but it's still good frozen and microwaved; adding fresh cilantro would probably help. This recipe is not delicate in terms of quantites and proportions; if you double the amount of this and halve the amount of that it still turns out pretty well, at least when I've tried. This is what a restaurant out here in the East would call medium spicy; it would probably kill my mother outright but it's not challengingly spicy for anyone who puts jalapeño slices on other food.

Goes well with cornbread or over brown rice. Tortilla chips, a beer, and a sprinkling of cheese on the top are nice accompaniments.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

My Libido When Alone

I find the way libido changes with circumstance interesting and almost undocumented, so I write a lot about it here.

During my marriage, living and sleeping with a beautiful (to me anyway) woman who was only inclined to give me orgasms about every second weekend, giving her orgasms about three times a week, my libido was a tremendous drive. And in retrospect nearly torture; I absolutely compare it to the time with the broken neck and the Halo brace screwed into my skull. My thoughts were a constant loop of sex, my wife, frustration. I was strongly tempted to find sex elsewhere, and paying for it didn't sound inherently unappealing. Stereotypically male, more than usual for my age.

After almost a year alone, it has dropped off to about the same level it was between my first and second marriages, which is quite low. Porn that used to do it for me doesn't; I realize I'm looking out of habit rather than desire. I love cuddling and nonsexual physical touch but have no particular desire to take it further. I'm driven to find out if anyone wants me sexually but I do not want anyone that much. I want an emotional relationship, not sex.

So, pretty much stereotypical female desire patterns. I feel like there might be a revelation in there somewhere, but I can't find it.

I am certain that my libido will go back to the way it was once I'm back in a relationship with an attractive woman. For now, it's a big relief.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Garlic Breath Pesto

In lieu of philosopy or confessions, here's a recipe. It is delicious in a vicious sort of way. I made some before I got sick and it's something you can taste through a clogged nose no problem. Make sure anyone you intend to get close to eats some too, I'm not kidding about the name.

2 cups loosely packed fresh basil leaves
Olive oil
1 bulb garlic (not a clove, all the cloves in a bulb)
1/2 cup pine (pignoli) nuts
4 oz parmesan cheese

Put the basil in a blender. Add olive oil until you've got just enough for the blender to chop up the leaves. Peel the garlic, add it, chop it up too. Add the pine nuts and parmesan, grind it all into a thick mixture. Should barely pour; I prop the blender pitcher over a bowl and leave it for an our, then scrape out the rest with a long-handled spoon. Let it sit in the refrigerator for three days (eating it sooner it has more bite and less umami). Serve over hot pasta.


I've got some type of a cold. This will either result in me posting more because I'm not up to much else, or less because my head feels stuffed with cotton and I'm not up to anything but staying in bed with a copy of Boneshaker by Cherie Priest. I know, all the cool kids have already read it.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

The Gun Thing

Open thread for discussion of guns and carry and gun control, to move an unwanted debate from someone else's blog. If you're interested:


It's always fun when friends give you a nickname for something they see as unusual about you. My asexual massage headspace was given a name years ago, Ingve.

I was a little worried doing a full-body workup (on Sparkly Girl) for the first time in years, because I did not have the foot fetish before. I thought foot massage might present a problem, but no, Ingve does not have a foot fetish. I shouldn't have been worried; Ingve never saw hips, buttocks, upper thighs, or the pectoral at the top of the boob as sexy either.

It's kind of a total focus that I don't really do in that many other circumstances. Feeling what you need to relax and work the knots out and imagining how I can supply it completely excludes other considerations. It's an asexual headspace but an affectionate one.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Moral Dilemma; locating the boundary

There are some things a skilled amateur can do as well or better than a professional. Sex is an obvious example; who wouldn't rather be with someone who was doing it out of love, or at least like? Massage, I believe, is another one. Since I got training I've basically never worked on someone who has had significant professional work that didn't say I did better than many professional LMTs. Part of my Christian ethos is that I try to love everyone. It is the shame of the Chuch that universal love is more associated with hippies than Christians. I think that comes out in massage work; my teachers called it "good hands." Anyway I'm apparently pretty good at massage.

So, after doing arms & hands and back work, all I had time for with three people, Rook feels that she might actually come from a full-body workup, and warned me because she wants to stay within my boundaries. (Rook is a woman who orgasms extremely easily and often.) It's not a issue I ever expected to face. I have a very asexual headspace for massage. If I do a full-body workup using only clinical techniques, none of which are designed or intended by me as sexual, and she comes, is that sex? I don't know. I also don't know if I could hold onto my asexual headspace with the massagee orgasming under my hands; part of the "good hands" is a strong physical empathy. My inclination is to say that I'm just doing clinical massage, how you enjoy it is your business. But maybe that's an irresponsible way to look at it.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Preferences 2

I finally got a massage table (through Craigslist), and sent out an email to some friends asking for volunteers to help me brush off my rusty skills. (I can't do extended work on the floor anymore due to bad knees, and a bed is lousy, and my ex always sounded indifferent when I brought up the idea of getting a table.) The friends are three married couples. The three women unbeknownst to me were having a girl's night and invited me to it. So I get to work on all three of them; Rook, Sparkly Girl, and Determined Girl (who I referred to as N. here and who was really hard to pick a name for).

The fact is that they're the three most attractive women in the world to me. This isn't primarily because of their looks; I think their weight loss goals range from 50 to 140 pounds, and I don't have a preference for BBWs. I like the looks of this girl a lot but just working by looks I like this girl a little better. (Both via Sex Is Not The Enemy, and both awfully young but it's harder to find pictures near my age.) The three women I'll be working on are the most attractive to me because I like their looks, and I like their personalities, and they've each shared a certain amount about their positive sexualities, and they like me. Ironically, one of these three most attractive women, Determined Girl, has a problem in her marriage because she's too insecure about her weight to wear the latex/PVC stuff her husband is into; and I'd pay to see her in it. I don't know how to tell her that without being creepy though.

It's partly a consequence of spending years with a woman who was beautiful but wouldn't talk about sex (at least after we were married). It's kind of ironic that I didn't pick her for her beauty; the decision point was when my ex said yes to a question about rimming that Determined Girl said no to. I regarded it as a litmus test question then, determining her comfort level with allowing a man to be intimate with her body (which I wouldn't think now.) And it turned out she didn't want me to rim her after we were actually married anyway.

Even before I had a pretty broad range of looks I was attracted to, but that's been massively reinforced by the experience. Even before when I looked for porn I was frustrated by being able to pick (for example) blonde or brunette categories but not happy smile category. (I always wanted help imagining the model was actually into what she was doing.) Now instead of having a narrow set of looks-based turn-ons, which you hear about pretty often, I have a narrow set of looks-based turn-offs. Probably another part of the source for this is that one of my sisters worked as a clothing model for a bit; as a consequence model beauty does not seem such a big deal to me.

Since one of my biggest turn-ons now is the ability and inclination to talk about sex, I am massively attracted to sexbloggers. They are the supermodels of my world. I would absolutely no hesitation no question rather have a night with most sexbloggers than with any model, movie star, or porn star in the world.*

This isn't a brag. I don't think it's any less superficial to be massively focused on a woman's sexual preferences than on her boobs; both are just part of the sex experience. But there are a lot of women who, like Determined Girl, are insecure about their looks, and I want them to know that there are men out there who will LIKE their looks. In my case, as long as they're paired with a sexuality that's a good match for mine. I'm not the only guy I know who thinks this way, either.


*The exceptions that make it "most" are the sexbloggers who seem rather exclusively into things I'm not. Also, it's just in a theoretical sense, this is the abstinent sexblog after all. Except if you take "a night with" in a more literal and platonic sense, that's actual, I would totally be into really going out for a drink with the aforementioned sexbloggers.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Bad boy appeal

I have some suspicions that my ex wanted to be chased and taken. Chased in the sense of rather predatory and persistent wooing; taken in the sense of someone breathlessly saying "take me" except without actually saying anything. It's not hard to understand. Someone might want to feel they are so attractive that they overcame their partner's scruples. And very commonly people feel like their personal likes are also the limits of decency (as Ozymandias was just writing about.) So a desire to be chased makes considerable sense. Being chased can be considered an enormous compliment. I suspect this is fairly integral to the appeal of "bad boys"; the idea that he'll do what you want, without the need to tell him; and stop at the limit of your likes, again without a need to explain. Note that the chasing and taking I'm talking about is distinct from an agreed-upon form of play, or even an implied kind of play. If one's spouse says "You can't catch me" and runs away, that's obviously implied play. What I'm talking about is the situation where the chase is expected to replace such obvious communication.

There are a bunch of reasons this does not work for me.

I've talked about the first one before. Although I believe in a Christian marriage the partners give ownership of their bodies to each other in a very real sense, particularly a sexual sense, we are to love our spouses and they're still the ones living in that body. We should never harm them and even slightly unwanted sexual activity is a harm. The ownership is a concept to guide the way each spouse should give their body to the other, not the way a spouse may take the other's body. In other words, as a married Christian I would always think of my wife's ownership of my body, but not of my ownership of hers; likewise she should think of my ownership of hers, not of her ownership of mine. If I'm always thinking she owns my body, her sexual use of it will be welcome. But I should not be thinking that I can take hers whenever I want, only she should think that.

The second thing is that it tends to be one-sided in a way I can't handle. One person runs, the other chases. One person gets the compliment. I'm not aware that I've heard of anyone alternating this; if they did I'd expect a case where it's a pretty obvious form of play. I think a man running away from a woman who wanted sex with him would be too insulting a form of play for most people. If you turn that around, that is why I could only handle it if my partner made it obvious from the start that she wanted to be caught; otherwise I find it unbearably wounding.

The third is that I'm just not a bad boy. Maybe with the martial arts and guns and hair I could be mistaken for one. Nope. I'm more Boy Scout and hopeless romantic. If you run away from me I will cry and ask you for one last kiss. (Yes, I did that a few days before the divorce notice came.) If you want me to take you with strength you must discuss it with me first. I aspire to a very different ideal than the bad boy.
"Thou wert the meekest man," says Sir Ector to the dead Launcelot. "Thou were the meekest man that ever ate in hall among ladies; and thou wert the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear in the rest."

The important thing about this ideal is, of course, the double demand it makes on human nature. The knight is a man of blood and iron, a man familiar with the sight of smashed faces and the ragged stumps of lopped-off limbs; he is also a demure, almost maidenlike, guest in a hall, a gentle, modest, unobtrusive man. He is not compromise or happy mean between ferocity and meekness; he is fierce to the nth and meek to the nth. When Launcelot heard himself pronounced the best knight in the world, "he wept as he had been a child that had been beaten."
(Excerpts from C.S. Lewis's excellent essay on the topic of the modern need for knightly chivalry can be found here; I'd like everyone who carries a gun to read it. And everyone who doesn't to read it too.)

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Divorce is final

I got the divorce decree I was waiting for. I'm now single and can start referring to "my ex-wife" instead of "my soon-to-be-ex-wife" or "my separated wife" or other weird locutions. Just took off my ring.

I never wanted this and I'm a little sad, but I'm better off.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Miscellany mainly about my stupid untrustworthy brain

I trust my rebirth of interest in domming, because it's part and parcel of how I always felt. But my brain is pulling other tricks that are seriously annoying.


I wanted to work on resolving my thing about not liking tattoos. So I put tattoos on a CGI character I made up representing the appearance I most desire, for the game 3D SexVilla 2. That worked fine. So I looked up some nudes of women with tattoos. My brain said "I'm totally fine with tattoos now, no problem." Treacherous brain! I don't believe you! It can't be that easy. I hope I will not offend anyone by saying that my brain is obviously pulling this due to admiration of certain readers.


I was thinking of attending Wicked Faire this year. And some of my Christian friends, I think, are understandably a little worried; they do not attend because they regard it as temptation they don't want to deal with, and I'm on the rebound. But at this point not only am I bound not to have casual sex, I've been feeling like I don't even want it. (Even in the topping fantasy I was just talking about, there was no orgasm included for me.) And I've figured out one ugly reason why; it's because I would think of it as being sheer favor from the woman. I could dom or sub for her and get her off and that would be more than enough for me; if she got me off I would feel it to be an unfair exchange. Not that favors are bad, I'm very grateful for the compliments on my pictures for example, and that's a favor; no one needed to say anything. But I don't want sex as a favor. And at the very same time as feeling getting me off would be an unbalanced favor, I also feel like I'd be exploited subbing for some newly-met woman and only getting her off. Doublethink. Stupid brain.


Other, less brain-damaged reasons include that sex carries a whole lot of meaning for me; the upshot is there isn't really a place for casual sex in my mind right now. Flirting yes, actual sex no. When I was married and not getting nearly enough sex, it was a struggle not to think about casual sex, but now it's different. Now my libido is no longer driven by living with and sharing a bed with a beautiful woman who was sexy when there was no chance of it going anywhere and occupied when there was such a chance.

That, by the way, was torture. Now that I have adjusted some, I am quite a bit happier alone. She said something recently that made my brain leap to the possibility of her coming back to me (nothing important this is just the way a desperate brain works). And I remembered how bad it was for me. I didn't want to come to this point until the paperwork was final, but I really would not want her back. I want to be a friend, but I don't want to be married to her.


Speaking of being a friend, the relationship between her and the Saturnine Thespian is not the heavy TPE I was afraid of. Which makes me much more ready to be polite to him. Apparently, they'd been exchanging long-range endearments when he was in the Philippines, and suddenly that project ended and he was back half a year sooner than either of them expected. My first impression was that he was pretty intentionally taking a woman on the rebound into heavy TPE who had never done it before; but it really wasn't that way.

Second draft of an erotic story: Her Birthday

This is the second draft of the Her Birthday story.

Sunday, January 2, 2011


Recently I was talking with a friend who's in an open marriage; I'll call her Rook. I explained a lot of how I feel to her, and she reassured me that she would not sleep with me even if I were to weaken and ask, out of respect for my spiritual beliefs, which was nice to hear. She also told me that otherwise she'd very much like to, and that she had several friends who felt the same way, which was even nicer to hear. She got on to the subject of my barn and its interesting bondage opportunities (I live in an old farmhouse and have the barn as well), and later told me about her fascination with electricity and electrically administered pain and lots of fascinated detail about a woman she'd seen at a fetish event who was in a cage where passersby could shock her with various tools. ("Ow. Ow! Ow is not my safeword!")

I've said a couple of times that I had trouble domming my wife because of lack of communication; I just didn't know what she liked. And I've mentioned that in that, I lost contact with my dominant side to a large extent. Hearing Rook's story, which she clearly wanted to be part of, and would clearly enjoy having me be a part of it, let me know that yes the problem was exactly what I thought. I could not stop thinking about having her, or someone who likewise wanted it, in bondage in my barn with an electrical unit I could wire up (not bad with a circuit and I have an old electric fence unit designed for safely corralling animals smaller than human to use as a starting point.) I wanted to stand behind her, one hand on her throat, growling trash talk in her ear and shocking her thighs. Note I'm not relating intentions here, I'm just relating passing fantasies.* (Of a type I try to avoid because it's about a friend.)

Like I've read from several doms & switches, it's about the reactions of the sub. I've never had a desire to tie someone up and shock them, I now have a desire to tie up and shock someone who has arranged a safeword and safety parameters and will have massive orgasms from the process. The idea of domming for the sub never really clicked until I heard her describing it, and the desire in her voice as she did.

It also made me think of what I can and can't do. I can act well enough for RPGs and LARPs; I can look mean and sound mean, I've scared people before doing that. But I don't think I can really be scary to anyone who knows me. I got a compliment on my looks once that I value above all others: one friend, Sparkly Girl, said that no woman who looked into my eyes could be scared of me. But I wonder if that's the opposite of the "magic" of a good dom; an edge of danger and unpredictability that I don't have and don't want. Most people like being scared to one extent or another; you put yourself in my hands as a submissive and I'll die before I let you get really hurt, so there isn't that hint of real fear. I don't know how many people would require such an edge of fear to be happy with submission.


* You don't need to warn me about how dangerous electricity can be; a very small current across the heart or lungs can easily stop them, for example, and it often causes muscle contractions that can lock one's hand onto a contact; this is just fantasy not a plan.