Category: writings


I’ve had this a few times where frustrated submissives have asked me about masters who demand 100% of the submissive, but only give partially of themselves. So I’ll say it loud and clear:

A master who refuses to be 100% your master is no master at all.

Most of what a dominant wants to do can only really work when he’s there to observe you in daily life. Remote domination is a temporary stopgap measure for when you’re unable to be together. It’s a coping mechanism, while you both work towards being together again.

But this isn’t even about remote, tbh. You can be physically there but not fully present. It’s the same kind of thing. It’s giving into your fears, keeping that escape hatch handy should things go sideways. It allows you to avoid the messy daily reality of a relationship, filtering only for the perfect fantasy in your mind. But it comes at a cost, because while it titillates, your needs aren’t actually being met. When the hard parts of the relationship start (and they will), the shaky foundation you’ve built will be too weak to weather the storms.

The further removed you are, the less you’ll see, the less you’ll understand, and the less compassion you’ll feel. This goes both ways (for dominant and submissive alike). For a master, you court disaster if you want 100% but won’t give it.

There are parallels in this to the Vietnam war. Central command was so far removed from the situation on the ground that despite their best efforts, the plans they came up with often didn’t make sense, and their orders would eventually enter the realm of the bizarre as they tried to blindly navigate a reality that didn’t match their preconceived notions of how things are supposed to work. Everyone here knows how a dom/sub relationship is supposed to work, right? With all the perfectly thought out rules and punishments and rituals and collars and such? We’ve all read the pithy Tumblr posts about it. We’re experts now, right?

No plan of operations extends with any certainty beyond the first contact with the main hostile force.

– Helmuth von Moltke the Elder, Great General Staff, Prussia

We’re human. Every one of our situations is unique, and the only hope of someone ever understanding your situation is for them to BE there, with you, in the ugly trenches of real life as you stumble, suffer, and fail (once again, I’m talking about BOTH dom and sub). The truly important things happen spontaneously, in the shower, while you’re driving, as you feed the dog, in the middle of the night. One tiny detail can change everything, and you’ll only see it by being there. A report simply doesn’t capture that. A phone call can’t show the look on your face. A message won’t replace a touch.

It’s easy to get submission from afar, but impossible to get surrender. To achieve 100%, you must be there 100%.

When would you say is a time when you should o…

When would you say is a time when you should or need to break it off with a submissive?

I’ll do one better: When is the right time to break off ANY kind of relationship (romantic, sexual, platonic, business, friendship, etc)?

The right time to break it off is when it’s become clear that they don’t respect you.

But what does that mean? After all, “respect” is a tricky word with many nuanced meanings. There’s the “I fear you” kind of respect, where they’re careful not to cross you for fear of the consequences you’ll mete out. There’s the “I worship you” kind of respect, where they idolize you and heap praise upon you and live vicariously through you. Those have their place, but they’re superficial, and not the kinds of respect I’m talking about:

  • Respect as in taking the initiative to learn and explore who they really are.
  • Respect as in taking an interest and concern in their personal growth.
  • Respect as in being there when they break down from the weight they bear, and helping them back up.
  • Respect as in understanding their weaknesses so that you know where to step in when they’re under attack, rather than as a catalog of places to “low blow” them.
  • Respect as in knowing their unique needs, and helping them meet those needs where appropriate.
  • Respect as in comforting them when they’re down.
  • Respect as in taking joy and pride in their accomplishments.
  • Respect as in telling them when you think they’ve done the wrong thing.
  • Respect as in building their confidence back up when it falters.
  • Respect as in understanding their limitations and not crossing them.
  • Respect as in knowing their deepest fears and not weaponizing them.
  • Respect as in being honest with them.
  • Respect as in hearing them and listening to what they say.

When you truly respect someone, you’ll step in to make a positive difference in their life. You’ll encourage them to better themselves. You’ll be their ally when they’re under siege. You’ll make them feel that they’re being heard, and that their contributions and efforts are making a positive difference.

Respect is when your goal is to build a sum that’s greater than its parts, rather than to look for what you can extract for yourself.

It’s okay to be a dumb cunt

I won’t judge you for needing to be put in your place, for needing to be told to shut the fuck up, for needing me to overrule, for needing your brain to be forcibly stopped in its tracks so it can focus again.

It’s just one more reason why I like you.

Do you like virgins?

Of course. What’s not to like?

Every girl has a unique blend of things that work, that don’t work, that make her squirm, that make her toes curl.

A virgin is kind of a special case because she has all those years of pent up curiosity, fantasy about what it will actually feel like, worry about if she’ll be pleasing, fear about how she’ll react…

It’s so damn touching that I can’t help but add frustration to the mix, teasing and tormenting for hours until she’s a desperate, begging, blubbering whore of a mess before finally granting her that first release.

It’s all about using her ingredients to make something spectacular.

When I Look at You

I don’t care that you can’t think of anything to say.
I don’t care that everything comes out wrong.
I don’t care that you’re retaining water.
I don’t care that you’re feeling sick.
I don’t care that your skin is bad.
I don’t care that you’re grumpy.
I don’t care that you’re scarred.
I don’t care that you’re hurting.
I don’t care that you’re anxious.
I don’t care that you’re depressed.
I don’t care that your medication fucks you up.
I don’t care that your problems are overwhelming.
I don’t care that you’re broken in more ways than you can count.

Those aren’t the you I’m looking at.


I’m not sure if people realize just how much service means to a dominant.

It has nothing to do with the utility of what she does. It’s the fact that she’s doing it for me. It has such a captivating effect on me, drawing me forever closer to her. Even now, as I read these words, they are insufficient in describing how I feel, watching her serve me. Watching her, willing to suffer any indignity or pain to bring me happiness and make me proud of her.

Mystical? Magical? Sublime? I’m… at a complete loss for words.

Would you ever consider taking a submissive with a mental illness/have you ever in the past? How would you/how have you approached it in your rules or care for her? Sorry for the long question.

Just so you know, I’m not singling you out with this; I just want to rant a bit.

It seems that there’s an idea floating around about a “perfect” D/s relationship. An idea that if you could just embody this particular list of traits and abilities, you’ll do okay. And if not, well, you’re at a disadvantage (if you’ll ever find someone at all). Of course the ironic part is that, even though so many seem to believe in this ideal, nobody can quite say what the actual list entails.

When I deal with a submissive, I’m dealing with a person. She’s going to have issues, because all submissives do. She’s going to fuck things up, she’s going to have anxiety, she’s going to have phobias, things she’s absolutely terrible at, demons & regrets, a less than stellar past, worries and melt downs, and we’re only just getting started. She may have other complications, like epilepsy or cancer or poor circulation or deaf-mute or schizophrenia or a heart condition or depression or any myriad possibility. It’s called being human.

When you look online at all these pictures of perfect BDSM scenes and perfect stories and perfect anecdotes and perfect love letters between sub and dom, there’s a BIG part of a dominant’s role that is too often overlooked: Care.

Care means a lot of things. It means actually giving a damn what happens to her. It means wanting her to live a good life. It means supporting her where she’s weak. It means being there for her when she breaks down. It means taking time out to tell her you love her. It means understanding her limits and approaching them with compassion. And I’m not talking BDSM oriented limits; I’m talking about her limits in life. I’m talking about illness or injury or depressive episodes or even just a bad day and feeling overwhelmed.

We’re all human, and our needs are all unique. When I take a submissive, I may be in charge, but we’re still in this together. The rules I lay down are specific to HER. The training I do is specific to HER. There is no One True Way™ that I just bend her into. It’s a dance. It’s life. Life is messy and exciting and even bizarre sometimes, yet it always finds a way to go outside of your expectations. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Have you ever had a situation where you’ve accidentally hurt a sub too much, or even accidentally kicked her or stepped on her toe, or even if you were freaking her out with a hot poker and then accidentally touched her, would you stop the scene immediately and tend to the wounds or would you work it in and enjoy it?

I don’t really like the word “scene”, tbh, because it puts in an implicit assumption that it’s a task that must be completed. And even though not true, “scene” hints that any deviation from the dominant’s vision is sub-optimal. I’ve actually had subs feel terrible when I changed what I was doing mid-”scene” because of some development (she was going into a bad space, I fucked something up, or I just plain changed my mind).

I don’t consider what I do in discrete intervals; I just do. My approach is organic, like any other relationship would be. You plan some things, and others are spontaneous. Some you lead, others are a result of your synergy with her. If I see something going a way I don’t like, I change course. The worse the thing, the more drastic the change.

She’s a living, breathing being. She has moods and feelings and fears and hormones and ideas and morals and philosophies and anxiety and bad days, and our actions are done together. Yes, I’m leading. Yes, my word is final. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to ignore what’s right there in front of me and “stick to the plan.” No plan ever survives contact with the field anyway.

But to answer your question: I change things all the time, for many reasons. And an accident that requires medical attention or a calm space for her mind is one of those reasons.

As a sadist, would you want someone whose threshold for pain isn’t all that high?

For a sadist, it doesn’t even matter.

I’m not looking for a physical effect; I’m looking for a mental and emotional effect. I love how just the threat of something sends a jolt of fear through her. I love watching her squirm and scream as I hold a cattle prod right up to her, or even caress her with it, and not even have to jolt her at all.

I love how I can bring something horrible close (like a hot poker), and she knows I won’t actually use it, but there’s still a part of her that doesn’t know for sure, and that part feeds into her fear, growing as I smile, give her a little kiss and continue toying with her.

I love changing the tempo all of a sudden, so that my torments come when she’s not expecting it. I love faking her out with an implement, over and over, until she breaks down in despair because she knows that the moment she relaxes I’m going to do it for real. But she can’t steel herself forever, and I can tell the moment she relaxes her guard.

I love wearing her down. I’m not a bulldozer; I’m water. I slowly wash the castle walls away, watching them wear thinner and thinner, before finally crumbling under the inevitable. And she knows I’m doing it, and she’s powerless to stop me.

Torture is not physical; it’s mental. And slow torture is the sweetest of all.

The Makings of a Dominant

I still remember the stories my mother would tell me about when I was a very young child.

One in particular comes to mind as I write this: in the sandbox with a group of children, getting annoyed because they were doing it wrong, and then eventually just taking over and telling everyone what to do, and how to do it.

She did her best in a misguided attempt to curb those tendencies in me, but the result wasn’t as she’d hoped (she believed in nurture over nature), and so I learned very early to hide my true feelings, even telling myself the common mantra of the 80s: everyone is equally capable and every opinion is equally valid. But my inner mind knew different, and so my childhood years were quite confused.

The thing is, I’ve always had a knack for seeing the better way to do things. In my youthful zeal and idealism, I became not only precocious, but also rather insufferable and rude, often losing patience with people doing things in such an obviously (to me) terrible way. But here’s the thing: I still worked under the assumption that everyone is the same, and therefore if everyone is the same, they should respond the same way I do, except they didn’t. And that was both puzzling and aggravating, leading me to wonder if they were lazy or stupid (or both).

After a rather turbulent youth, I eventually came upon the truth: that people are all different, react differently, respond differently, handle things differently, and expect different things. This is why the golden rule doesn’t work (much to my consternation). How I would want to be treated is most definitely NOT how most other people would want to be treated, and it wasn’t until I stopped treating others as I’d expect to be treated that I finally started getting somewhere with interpersonal relations.

It is only from standing upon the still rather low vantage point of my years that I realized not only my own weaknesses and failings, but also the how and why of the weaknesses of others. Compassion was a rather new experience to me, and a very profound one. I no longer judged (as much); I looked inside people to see why those failings occurred. It didn’t excuse bad behavior, but it allowed me to see where it comes from. I may not have had the same experiences as the people I see, but I’ve had enough that are common to all that I can at least get an inkling, and maybe even understand a thing or two.

Thinking of dominance as simply “being in charge” is a dangerously superficial viewpoint. The reality is much more complicated and nuanced (it always is), and will affect your relationships with everyone.

Dominance is understanding. Understanding that we are all weak and we all fail, and a better way to live is by being there for those we care about when it counts, even if you can’t “fix” things. Especially when you can’t fix things (which is most of the time).

Dominance is compassion. Seeing peoples’ pain and not judging them for it. Our world teaches us to scorn the weak, and that showing pain is weakness. But what about helping them manage their weakness? What about supporting their weak points so that they can thrive in their strong points?

Dominance is leading. You lead by example. Your discipline shows first in how you manage yourself.

Dominance is responsibility. The greater your control over someone, the greater your responsibility for their actions.

Dominance is confidence. When you’ve stopped worrying about what others think of your failings, your heart is lighter, your step more sure, because their scorn holds no power over you. Suddenly, you’re able to take the unconventional steps you know are right.

Dominance is loving others. Not just your girl, but all those you hold power over. They trust you and follow you. That’s a beautiful thing, and in an ideal world that trust is rewarded. Be the one to make that difference in the real world.

Dominance is patience. Other people won’t do the things you do as well as you do, or as fast as you do, or even without close supervision sometimes. But they try, and when they’re trying with all their heart, it is the gentle hand that wins such a heart.

Dominance is a journey. I’ve only been around four decades, but it’s been enough to give me an inkling of how much farther I have left to go. There is always something new to learn, some fear to conquer, some habit to break, some prejudice to overcome.

The makings of a dominant are mostly things others wouldn’t see unless they looked very closely. That’s okay, because in the end the only thing that matters is that you’re comfortable in your own skin.