between the lines - pink fairies

as i've said before, i'm a masochist. if i piss a Lady off (and, like most males, i can do that without breaking a sweat) then there's very little point in Her administering a thrashing. even if i don't enjoy it at the time, i'll almost certainly feel pretty damn positive about it later!

there are, however, alternative punishments - things that i genuinely don't enjoy.

if you're serious about slavery, you can expect, when in need of correction, to be given lines.

remember them? they were a pain in the arse when i was at school and they haven't changed much. and copying out a dozen or so words on how i'll do better in future focuses me - particularly when i reach that point where my hand already hurts and i'm less than halfway through them.

another punishment that most people don't fantasise about is loss of privileges. denial of television. or music. or internet time. nights out. hobbies and interests, basically.

as a slave, everything that you might enjoy is subject to the approval of your Superior. time spent on your hobbies can be granted - or denied by the Woman who owns you.

by far the worst punishment though, has to be exclusion. one's Owner driving you from Her side. this separation hurts. really hurts. (and if it doesn't, then are you fully in the relationship, anyway?)

exclusion gives both parties the chance to think through whether the relationship's still where T/they want to be.

and, depending on the seriousness of the offense, that exclusion might not be a period of hours or even days - it could be weeks. or months. or even for good.

think about it.

out of the blue - roxy music

in 2005, i lost my mother. suddenly. a few months later, the mother of a close friend lost her long, drawn-out battle with cancer.

just as i was starting to get on an even keel over the loss of my mum, this happens.

i believe that pain turns up in e/everybody's life from time to time. how we process that pain is where we differ.

i'm (amongst other things) a masochist. my traditional response to a psychic pain like out-of-the-blue bereavement is a burning urge to experience physical pain.

i had a similar need-for-pain, back in 1993, a couple of days after the spanner verdict was handed out and we were criminalised. some of it was righteous, searing rage, me not having been born with enough middle-fingers.

some of it was just a desire for intimacy. 2005-6 was the same. rage and a need to transmute the psychic pain through a physical thrashing.

i was lucky enough to have an understanding boss and got a few days off. so i went to visit a Friend down south. the Friend was - and is - a Sadist.

so i put myself in Her hands and She helped me transmute what i was going through with a mercy-thrashing or two.

behave - chumbawumba

let's suppose you've got through the vanilla-style dates. let's assume you chewed with your mouth closed, were punctual, attentive and polite.

let's assume you've made it to the home visit. She has invited you to Her home. whaddaya do now, hot-shot?

in pornography, you could reasonably expect to be hauled through Her front door, forcibly stripped by Her large-breasted handmaidens and live happy ever after.

as ever, real life is wired very differently to our imaginings. one thing that's certain though, from the moment you enter Her home, it'll be Her way or the highway.

your purpose, as a slave, is to maintain Her comfort, He pleasure and Her convenience. you might as well leave any kinks, preferences or expectations outside. Ok, you might get lucky, but then again, you just might not.

i'm assuming you had the sense to focus your energies on Someone Whose totems 'n' taboos matched your own, right?

Somebody with similar tastes in art and politics. Someone Who reciprocated your personality type with Her own.

otherwise things are going to get very boring. very quickly.

Her gaff, Her rules.

ideal world - fad gadget

i don't know if anyone reading this has ever met any real-live-actual-vanillas, but there's a world of difference, apparently, between how their relationships are portrayed on tv or in films and the real thing.

how many times have you been exposed to a film in which a couple meet on-screen and within minutes, the clothes are off and both parties are doing that weird kissy thing where the male lies on top of the Woman...

i've studied this for a while and, in actuality, while it does happen now and again, it's exception rather than rule.

our relationships are broadly similar to that. we tend to come together, get to know each other progressively better and then intimacy *may* occur.

there are FemDom scenarios where Her eyes meets his and She's thrashing the jesus out out of the slave moments later. generally speaking, the speed of these relationships is\mostly determined by the fact their audience can - and do - fast forward through the lengthy courtship period to the hitty and hurty bits.

in real life, unfortunately, you can expect vanilla meetings before that 24/7 naked 'n' caged in perpetuity scenario that's been making your lap crowded.

going back to the vanilla analogy, outside of films and television, where a male and a Woman meet and start fucking within minutes, most juries would call it rape.

how far can too far go - the cramps

it's a truism that *all* relationships need compromise to survive & develop. all of us, males and Real People, have at least a couple of non-negotiables - and reading this, if you haven't got at least children and animals as hard limits, that's probably part of why you're single.

there's an awfy temptation, particularly in situations where one's ego is being stimulated, to gloss over the bits we don't know.

bad move. you're not fooling anyone. and at worst, you could get yourself in over your head. or disappoint Someone you're trying to impress.

it's ok to admit that you don't know. why do you think Dommes queue up for workshops on everything from bee-keeping to buggery?

going back to the list you made of kinks 'n' limits, think about the ones that you'd absolutely love to find Someone into. imagine the disappointment, were this Someone to turn around - once She had the ring on your finger - and tell you She was only joking.

having been on the receiving end of someone who feigned proficiency, it's not a bundle of laughs. so try and imagine how long your relationship has to run - in minutes - from that point where She realises that you were only kidding about those ten years of experience as a masseur. or about scat not being one of your hard limits...

pop music - m

my first club was violate in edinburgh in 2001. I was taken there by my Domme at that time. strongest impressions, almost nine years later?

the music was shit. no other way of putting it. except, perhaps, "not my cup of tea". my first ever public play, with Someone I fallen pretty fucking hard for - and I was being flogged to "let me entertain you" by robbie fucking williams.

which would not have been my first choice - or Hers - to soundtrack an experience that was to etch itself onto my memory for life.

still, never mind. that's all just blood under the bridge now. and, to date, I have only ever been in two clubs where the music wasn't utter pish. but mibby that's just me.

in scotland, like a lot of places, most munches 'n' clubs are held in gay venues. once in a while, i've found myself in a swingers' club on a regular fetish night.

any club you visit will have rules posted. no nudity's pretty much universal, as is *not completely wankered on booze or drugs*.

another omnipresent rule is "NO MEANS NO". if She wasn't interested ten minutes ago, things probably haven't changed in the interim.

let my people go - Diamanda Galas

perverts are everywhere, according to the british tabloids. during the coverage of the spanner case in 1990, distinctions were blurred (by complete chance, of course) between pornography, bdsm, torture, snuff films, the gay community and contact ads.

today, it's difficult to imagine a story like that without paedophiles - and the internet - being blamed, isn't it?

going to munches, attending clubs, setting up profiles on bdsm dating sites, hanging out in irc chatrooms... all of this makes you part of a community. at its best, it's like a cross between torchwood (except the music's not as good) and the freemasons. (except we wear more black).

if you're new to this, members of this community will keep an eye on you until you find your feet (like the marine corps in 1980s' vietnam movies).

and after that, it's just common sense.

first time - the boys

unless i'm a lot more unusual than i thought, E/everybody's first munch is an exercise in brick-shitting.

my first munch was in edinburgh in 2001, at the caledonian bar, which at the time was next to haymarket station.

i walked in like i owned the place, spotted the roadmap on the table - and kept going. straight past the bar and into the gents' toilet.

locked in my wee amniotic cubicle, i gathered myself, went back out, ordered a pint at the bar. armed with that, i approached the "terrifying P/people" at the table and introduced myself.

i knew several of them from an irc chatroom i frequented - by name, if not by face. and i've never looked back.

almost nine years down the line and *that* munch is still going strong. so strong, in fact, that i now run a second munch in the same city. i've been to munches all over the north of england and across scotland.

point one about munch etiquette: everybody's in their civies. in the chatroom, She might command the attention of every male in the room, but at the munch, She'll be dressed conservatively. so should you be.

point two. no-one has to walk into a munch alone. if you're unable to meet a mate beforehand, then ask where you first heard of the munch. i can't think of a munch (even the really small ones) where no-one was available to meet outside and arrive with a new member, or arrive thirty minutes early to meet a newcomer.

She – telly savalas

what does a Dominant Woman look for in a submissive male?

there's no hard-and-fast rule here; no magickal spell or perfect haircut that'll make every Domme in the munch or chatroom want to enslave you, take you home and keep you naked and caged until death sets you free.

maybe, just maybe, Women are all unique. as different inside Their skulls as They look or express Themselves in clothes!

you wouldn't expect to get away with buying *every* Female Friend or Relative exactly the same present at ex-mess, would you?

what might go down better would be giving Each the same level of care 'n' attention in choosing, wrapping and delivering Their present.

similarly, although you can't be expected to fill all the needs of every Woman on the planet, by taking care of a few essentials, you might well find that there's a number of Ladies out there Who want to buy what *you're* selling.

you could start by looking through the personal ads on the various bdsm dating sites. at the point of writing this, there seems to be a zeitgeist for Women who enjoy watching males masturbating and/or playing with each other.

by the time you read this, i have no doubt the fascion will have moved on. *what Women want* will have changed. and will continue changing. make a list. look at the Ones you're not immediately attracted to.

now, time to be brutally, savagely honest. break your list down into six sub-lists:

stuff you get off on.

stuff you could do if you were really in love &/or turned on.

stuff you could do for Someone Else's benefit - but that doesn't turn you on - or repel you.

stuff that repels you, but that you could get through "with the love of A Good Woman"

stuff that you wouldn't consider doing unless She had a gun to your head (and even then, you'd need time to think)

stuff that you hadn't considered.

chinese rocks - johnny thunders & the heartbreakers

my first brush with subspace came during my second bdsm relationship. i had recently left a relationship with Someone who'd used impact play, but neither of us knew that it wasn't always meant to hurt.

a Lady i'd originally met online and later, negotiated with, invited me to Her home and after the initial nervous coffee and stop-start small-talk, i was led upstairs to Her well-appointed dungeon.

i was like a kid with the keys to the cakeshop! the room was filled with heavy wood-and-metal furniture, the walls groaned under the weight of row after row of hitty and hurty things.

in that room, i experienced pain i had only fantasised about up til then. pain that emanated from Someone Else, that i couldn't control - and certainly couldn't stop!

and, in that room, under that Woman, i was taken to subspace for the first time.

subspace is not only a soiree on the "home-made heroin", but the natural result where trust meets power imbalance. yes, that's right - unlike other drugs, the more often you do it, the better it gets!

and, like music or cinema, one's subjective experience is enhanced by sharing the moment with a Trusted Other.