Nov 262008
 

One of the more romantic ideals within the BDSM world is that of collaring. But it is not a universal conceit: the symbolism varies wildly.

There are some folks for whom a collar is a nice accessory, an ornament, worn because it looks sexy. And it runs the gamut all the way to those for whom a collar = wedding ring and absolute slavery and ownership by another person.  Some people think the whole thing is kinda crazy.

I am on the heavier symbolism end of the spectrum of this myself.  I have never been “collared” by anyone, And as a result, collars are even more so now a symbol to which I choose to ascribe a very particular meaning.

When I was being formally trained to serve in a Leather Household, it was drummed into my head that collars were something to be earned, over time, and not something that one took on and off willy nilly on a daily basis.  I have plenty of friends for whom that is not at all the case, but since I was in the midst of that protocol, I stood by that choice.

Plus who doesn’t want an accessory that is so fucking highly charged that even the thought of it can get you wet?

Shoe sluts, you know what I am talking about.

Purse whores know this too.

I have made [2] rare exceptions to the casual wearing of a collar. Once was in order to circumvent a situation I did not want to deal with at the time.  I was going to be attending a kink event, and there was someone there whom I wasn’t certain I wanted to interact with. By wearing a collar and in the leash of a friend, I knew they’d back off, and give me the space I needed to reconsider my position and avoid a seriously awkward public discussion.  Amusingly enough, it was as weird for my leash-holding friend as it was for me, as they are not a person who cares much for dominant / submissive play, being mostly into sadism / masochism.  Ultimately, it was a learning experience for the both of us.

The other time was…it was a chance for me to wear a collar that meant a whole lot more to me than it did to the person who put it on. The fantasy of it was delicious. The reality was, it was just a nice accessory to them, although to me, for that period of time, it was more. It was Everything.

Not too long ago I thought about the fact that I haven’t yet had a D/S relationship that had attained that level of commitment. I thought about how that can be a tough thing, because we are pretty much acculturated to grow up get married and settle down. Even among radical pervery there is the sense of “longing” for that level of submission.  You think women who are getting married obsess about a wedding ring? Ppfft. Try a newly collared submissive gushing on and on and on about the sanctity, symbolism, awe and power of her collar of submission.

Shit gets mad florid, yo.

I am a patient person these days, but there are some things I should not have to wait for.

The Tired Negress...with teeny collar.

So I decided to collar myself.

I bought a fetching little necklace on Etsy.

It was originally listed as a children’s necklace, which I find creepy, but maybe this artist is a practitioner of that thing where little girls commit their virginity to their Dads. Purity Balls. The lovely Dharma wrote about that crazy shit in her blog *shudder*

Whatever.  I digress.

The links are wee small little hearts, and the lock is brushed silver.

I love it.

Kink people sometimes ask me about my “collar”, and puzzle if they know I am not in service to anyone. I am glad to explain the collar is a talisman for my commitment to myself, to my spirit, all that happy crappy.  Someties it feels like a brave face.  Sometimes I wonder if there is something wrong with me that I haven’t had anyone about whom I felt passionately return that energy and truly desire and demand that level of love and control.

Who knows.

But on days when I feel as though I want to do that emotional masochism and feel sorry for myself. it is nice to have that silvery reminder caressing my neck quietly whispering “You are loved.”

Nov 192008
 

I absolutely cannot kill my internal eternal optimist.

Many have, inadvertently, tried to quell Little Mo’s bright-eyed bushy-tailed wellspring of hopeless romanticism.

“You never know!” she’ll pipe up in hopeful, dulcet tones “Stranger things have happened! Sometimes people find wonderful folks online! Give it a try Mo!”

SO, I open my in-box on yet another site for kinky folks, and see what the tide of fortune had washed my way.

(Details have been altered to protect the baffling.)

 

I am a ## yo Caucasian male who, like you, is a non-smoker, although I do drink occasionally.
I would like to tie you up, blindfold and gag you, humiliate and punish you when you are bad (and even when you are good), and force you to cum over and over again while I am doing these things to you.
I PROMISE that you can trust me. I worked for {BIG ASS] Bank for ## years. People trusted me with their financial affairs, and keeping them confidential, so you can trust me with complete control over your body.

It has been my experience that Black women tend to be more submissive, and very caring and compassionate. This is why I am writing to you. I hope to be equally caring by forcing you to enjoy your submission.
I hope to receive your email soon.

 

BY THE HOLY HAND GRENADE OF ANTIOCH….we are in the midst of a financial crisis of Brobdingnagian proportions, and you flaunt your …your…MAD ACCOUNTING SKILLZ…to entice me?!?!?!  Who are you, Herbert fuckin’ Kornfeld?!?!  

It Wuz Always 'Bout Tha Numbahs

It Wuz Always 'Bout Tha Numbahs

 

And, OK…see…*fizzing*

Dude.

DUDE.

It has been MY experience that ALL WOMEN ruffle at being painted with such brushes and lumped into condescending categories.

And…my gods, man!! When did we Negresses get the rep for being “MORE SUBMISSIVE“?!?! 

I thought that was the purview of my equally benighted “Oriental” sisters?!?!

Oh, wait, no…don’t they get the “Dragon Lady” thing piled on them?

It is so hard to keep track of those Kinky stereotypes…

I suppose I ought to be grateful that I am able to immediately filter out The Unsuitable when they so loudly skirl on their bagpipe of douchebaggery right off the bat.

I suppose.

Oct 292008
 

I know it is tough. When you are surfing the interwebs to look for love, perhaps you lack the time to read every line of every profile of every woman into whom you want to stick your penis.

But please.

My gods.

Some of the responses I get to my profile.

This gem today in my mail from my ALT.com profile…

WOW -YOU AMAZE ME. YOU CUM stay with me 4 awhile. YUM – I’ll tie you to the bed till you say uncle. LOL Seriously I’d love to get to know you a lot better.

Seriously. NEVER.

This next one is less ridiculous and more along the lines of an awesome typo:

Having read your profile I’m not sure whether i’d want to kiss you, duck you senseless, or tie you down and beat the sass put of you.

If a sass-put is anything like a shot-put, I’ll pass. And I believe CA has laws against mallard mauling, but I’ll have to get back to you on that.

This next guy…holy shit.

Let me preface this with the fact that his picture is…well, it was him with a ……aw, fuck it.

Here is the photo he uses in his profile:

Seriously. Stop.

My desires is to gain control and not let the sub have any freedom. I want them to worship me like a God. My desires to my sub are to make them feel they cant do anything without me , make them into a doll and I, am the chains that move the doll. I have a years experience.

A year. A YEAR and you plan on Stepfording me?!?!

*chokes back a sob*

A most profound moment of Zen settled over my troubled soul like god’s hand on a restless sea when I received the following solicitation on the first contact …TEH FIRST MESSAGE, y’all…from a “person” on collarme.com:

damn you a big fine momma.you open to k9?

This is, at the VERY LEAST, a third date gambit.

I know you feel my pain, you who are online looking-for-love-or-a-reasonable-facsimile-thereof…

Oct 152008
 

There are 47 reasons, on any given day, why kinky stuff gets my jeebies heebied.

One of the things I can enjoy, regardless of my emotional connection to my play partner, is rope bondage.

There are many aspects of kink that are intensely personal for me, things that get right into my head and places that remain locked away.

Not everyone gets to go there.

Hell, I don’t even go there most days.

Too dark and clammy.

But there are some types of play that I can enjoy purely on a physical level. So long as the top to whom I am bottoming is highly capable, and I am assured of their skill, I can “go there” and enjoy the ride.

Rope bondage is one of those play-styles

So…WTF?!?!

The loss of control over parts of your body is pretty intoxicating…the idea that your movement itself, the one thing since birth that you struggle to achieve and maintain, is now in the hands of someone else…that is something dangerous. Excitingly so.

It occurs to me that the secret wormhole I find when doing bondage is not just the loss of control: it is the deeper sense that every segment of rope is touched and energized by the person applying the bondage. That focused intent, that specificity, can elevate the inanimate rope to its own heightened state. It is as though every section of rope is imbued with, and carries the energy and control and caress of the one who is in control of it.

As the bondage becomes more binding or more complex, it is as though you are held in a physical manifestation of the thoughts of the person slowly taking from you the control of your limbs, skin, body…rope bondage can get to the point where even your breathing is restricted by the rope top. Imagine if every caress you felt while making love lasted and abraded and caressed and marked your skin in an after-shock of taut tension and sensation.

It is an echo that intensifies instead of fading.

It is a restriction that frees you to struggle and relinquish your control.

And if you add to that the many textures of rope, it is even more engaging. Slack silk ropes, slick serpentine nylon, earthy heady hemp, scritchy jute, stiff cotton. All of these have their own notes in the symphony of surrender. Simple, elusive, complex, difficult, joyous, terrifying, soft, brutal, beautiful.

Have something about kink that you’d like me to cover on a future WTF Wednesday? Contact me!