om Goddess! ... revenge, bonebreaking beatdown, domination, edgeplay, cutting reparte and blood. who could ask for anything more? ;)

Hot Girl Destroys Her Opponent - Click here for this week’s top video clips

Poser Soccer Kick ... i love this!

would of been great to see Her launch his head into orbit with a bit of projectile producing gore, but still an awesome kick!

the encounter ... a run in the park ... chamber a kick ... an unexpected ooki :)

edge play ... a gender reversal of roles and fates ...

can you imagine holding the camera when all of a sudden ...

how in the world does she kick so high? i would be Her kicking bag. She could kick me with Her sneaks. ;) ~sushichum~

Wonder Woman: Top, Bottom or Poly?

There's more to this sexually self-determining super-hero.
Published on September 3, 2010 by David J. Ley, Ph.D. in Women Who Stray

One of the best stories of an empowered, sexually-liberated woman and wife is found not in, but behind, the pages of comic books.

Wonder Woman - sexy and liberated - but not monogamous?
Elizabeth "Sadie" Holloway Marston (1893-1993) married William Marston in 1915. Elizabeth had already completed a Bachelor's degree in psychology from Mt. Holyoke, and then attended Law School at Boston University. Elizabeth worked throughout her life, in the executive administration of a life insurance company, and as an editor of law journals, and lecturer in psychology and law. So where's the sex? The kink? The comic books?

Elizabeth's husband was a psychologist, and inventor of some of the technology behind the polygraph, or lie detector, that measured physiological responses as a way to detect falsehoods. William also once gave an influential interview to one of his female students, Olive, describing that he saw comic books as something important, valuable and new. That interview led to William getting attention from comic book publishers. William later developed an idea for a new kind of comic book superhero, one who would use powers of love, truth and honesty to prevail. At Elizabeth's recommendation, her husband proposed the character as a female, and Wonder Woman (originally known as "Suprema") was born.

Growing up, I had a thing for Wonder Woman. I'm partial to brunettes, and Linda Carter in the '70s was the best thing on television, as far as I was concerned. Funnily enough, my wife (a brunette) says that she loved Linda Carter's role as well, because in the days of Farrah Fawcett, there weren't a lot of brown-haired women being put forth as beautiful, strong and sexy. Wonder Woman became a favorite of my wife, and many other dark-haired young women, who wanted to see themselves as beautiful, without the help of Clairol's Nice n Easy Honey Blonde hair color.

But, imagine my surprise when I found out that Wonder Woman's character had a kinky, sexy, past. No, not on that island of Amazonian women that Wonder Woman hailed from, but in the home of William and Elizabeth Marston. With Elizabeth's consent and support, William brought his former student, Olive Byrne, into their home, where she lived with Elizabeth and William as their wife. William had children with both Olive and Elizabeth, and he and Elizabeth formally adopted his children by Olive.

Elizabeth and William Marston

William was a strong supporter of feminist ideals, and female empowerment. In many of the early Wonder Woman comic books, Wonder Woman encourages women to stand up for themselves, to learn to fight, and be strong, so they don't have to be scared, or depend on men. William also described that while female nature was inherently submissive, the world might be a better place if women ruled the world, and that men love to submit to a strong, powerful and alluring woman.

What sorts of submission went on in the Marston bedroom? Surprisingly, details of this unconventional relationship have never been publicly revealed, and even more surprisingly, the family's privacy has been appropriately respected. Even as they worked and lived in very socially conservative times and places, in the Northeast United States, New York and Boston, this nonmonogamous, non-vanilla marriage was regarded as pleasant and refreshing, though somewhat naïve by peers.

Early Wonder Woman comics were filled with depictions of women in bondage, bound, stripped, gagged and tortured. Wonder Woman ended up strapped-down and tied up in almost every episode. But she always broke free. Wonder Woman's appearance, statuesque, brunette, strong and wearing thick, manacle-like bracelets, is supposedly modeled after Olive. So, it's not hard to imagine that perhaps Olive, who didn't work, and stayed home caring for the family's children, was a "bottom," or submissive, in the relationship. But then, who was the top?

Elizabeth was an independent, take-no-shit woman throughout her life. A delightful article from her alma mater, Boston University, describes her granddaughter saying that Elizabeth often told her, "Angel child, never, never be beholden to any man, ever." Elizabeth was already independent and educated, when she married William. And in fact, though her husband got a lot of glories, his stability seems to have been a bit questionable. He hopped from job to job, and actually was unemployed for many years, the family completely supported by Elizabeth.

William died in 1947, and Elizabeth continued to work until 1958, supporting herself, Olive, and their children, and putting all of their children through college. Olive passed away in the late '90s, and Elizabeth herself lived to be a 100, passing away in 1993. It is this part of the story that almost brings tears to my eyes. This powerful, strong-willed and sexy woman, never bowed down to society, to gender-stereotypes, or to social expectations of marriage, and was the matriarch, caregiver and breadwinner for her entire family, for nearly 50 years. Wow. Now that's wonderful. And she did all this decades before feminism, sexual liberation or equal rights were even on the horizon.

Was Elizabeth gay? Bisexual? Was she a top? A bottom or a switch? Did she live with Olive as a wife, a lover, a submissive, or merely a sister? Did Elizabeth dominate both Olive and her husband? Or was Elizabeth one of those powerful, dominant personalities who gain some measure of peace and momentary escape by being submissive, to Olive or to William during sex? Was sadomasochistic play a part of their lives, or merely a part of William's fantasy?

These are marvelous unanswered questions. And they're provocative questions (which should probably remain unanswered), not for the salacious details, but to celebrate the life and success of a wondrously admirable and empowered woman. Elizabeth, with all this delightful kink, is a marvelous role model for the ability to be a sexually self-determining wife, mother, lover, leader, lawyer, psychologist, executive, writer and teacher. You too can live a life of marital and sexual nonconformity, but still be successful, loving, and respected. William might have invented Wonder Woman, and might even have made the character look like Olive, but it was Elizabeth "Sadie" Holloway Marston who lived the life of Wonder Woman, not by fighting crime, but by being strong, unbroken, loving, and true to herself and loved ones.

omg! what a f#%^$g beatdown!

om Goddess! one can only dream ... can Y/you imagine being on the giving or the receiving end? i'll take my chances and receive ;)

squish, squash ... putting the kabosh on those pesky little men!

this photo shop manipulation is amazing of Kim Kardashian working out and squishing the guts out of the paparazzi who have tormented Her so of late. a great Femdomme comment even down to the bloody sneaker tread marks on the gym floor. i had to watch this 2 or three times. enjoy ~sushichum~

Female intuition and multi-tasking ... pass the dunce cap please

upon meeting for the first time i always marvel at the speed of female perceptiveness and intuition. how do they know? how do they know that on the outside we are composed models of respectability, yet on the inside we are with jaws agape, bug eyed slobbering fools, paralyzed by their physical beauty, or stymied by their superior intellect or stopped dead in our tracks by the way they can virtually "walk and chew gum" at the same time. i am blown away by Women and their uncanny, inhuman ability to multi-task.

Recently, i watched an attractive coiffed brunette woman at Starbucks texting, chatting on the phone and surfing the web on her laptop. if that wasn't enough, She then proceeded to remove her sandals, open her purse, take out some nail polish and give herself a touchup to Her pedi all the while reading magazine. it was almost more that i was able to handle, and i could not believe that in and of itself would cause me to go hard.  but, embarassingly enough it did. men do one thing at a time. slowly, methodicaly we git'er done, but most of the time we are left like Wile E. Coyote in a cloud of dust while our wives, girlfriends, or Mistresses sprint ahead doing six things at once to our pathetic one. it is a cruel joke that nature played on men. it is as if women were given 8 arms to our megar two.

oddly enough, there are female Goddesses and diety's who are portrayed with more than one appendage. this is particularly true in Hinduism, where the form and the mind of the woman is celebrated, exalted and considered vastly superior to that of hindu mortal men. one has only to look at the vast collection of video's and movies which openly celebrate and acknowledge the power that women have been given divinely over men. Also viewing the images of Kali, Lakshmi, Durga etc ... one can easily see that hinduism already knew that women were vastly superior and could effectively castrate a man while quieting a crying baby. yikes .../ slice.

it is sad but true. many researcher point out that males use a much smaller percentage of our brains than that of our superior female counterparts. women are naturally wired to live in this technology dependent multi-tasking society. they have done multi-tasking for years and are now supremely proficient at it. from cooking while tending children to writing that accounts receivable report while shopping for her bosses wife's birthday. Women are masters at doing nine or twelve things at once. it is very easy to add control and dominance to the mix in regard to managing and overpowering the men in their lives. women are natural requisite managers from the boardroom, bedroom and dungeon. they know how to crack the whip while at the same time create and initiate a new ad campaign and nurture a wounded friend. always 10 steps ahead of their male counterparts who struggle seemingly to 
men pee+multitasking pics on Sodahead

aim, pee and brush their teeth at the same time. while sad but true, this commentary is something else to ponder... any thoughts on this?

speedbag #2 ... the fantasy

oh to be Her speedbag … I thought … to have my head somehow attached to a swivel. to have my face shaded brown with dark vertical lines drawn as seams. to have the words Everlast or Otomix inked across my forehead. to watch Her put on Her training gloves and take a fighters stance in front of me. pat my face and commence to strike and hit my face with an uncanny rhythm. Left, right, left, right, left, right. She hits and smacks me hard with target driven precision. It stings and hurts at first.i feel my face begin to swell. I feel her fists accelerating and moving from my cheeks up towards my nose. She peppers me with well coordinated punches and I feel my nose begin to enlarge and my left eye close. She is moving faster now and my head is moving at her physical whims. obeying Her fists moving in Her elliptical orbit. My ears are ringing now and I feel the swelling around my right occipital socket swell and bulge grotesquely. i start to tear tremendously. i feel the tears streaming down my cheeks, and now Her punches have become blurs. it is like watching an old fashioned movie with faster and faster shutter speeds. i groan and grimace, but She is not finished yet. She begins to employ the use of Her elbows. I have no navigational control as to where my face lands. I am smacked and the back of my head bounces to hit the back board and then return to do it again. my lips are fat, cut and bleeding the swelling increases until I look like a distorted witch doctor’s enlarged voodoo doll. Numbness in my jaw now sets in as She continues to work my face over, and over. I can no longer see. She has effectively shut down both of my eyes. They are horribly swollen and look like the slits of a poorly carved jack-o-lantern. My head is reeling and I now feel nothing except the constant slap slap slap of Her fists as She rips into my mouth and nose. my head is now nothing more than a vomitous, gore ball. blood and brown goo of an undetermined substance drip up into my matted hair. What was once a head with features looks like a half chewed mangled bloody pustule. blood is splattered and speckled everywhere. Her gloves are stained and bloody, and there is tenderized, gorey, bloody, bits and pieces of me on her face. She smiles and breathing heavy She hangs on my head. blowing a wisp of hair out of Her penetrating green eyes She pats my puffy, bloody face with Her wrapped hand. “Whew!” you were good tonight pet! Damn fucking amazing! She comes over and rests Her head on my shoulder patting whats left of my cheek and poking each swollen area like a chef using her nails to skewer for for complete doneness. “you will have some wonderful marks to remember me by pet.” She throws Her beautiful black hair back back, kisses my forehead and begins removing Her wraps. “make sure You wash these well for me… ok pet” She drapes them over my head and says “such a good speedbag. Now where is that bentadine? Somewhere under all my knots, welts, cuts. scrapes and bruises, i try to smile.

speedbag #1 a memory triggered ...

i did something crazy after work today. i'm not sure why i did it except, that i'm sure it has to do with a very powerful fetish that took me over during the last hours of work yesterday. i was stopping by kinkos to get some copies made and i noticed a kickboxing and boxing gym nearby. from the corner of my eye i could see a svelte young woman walloping the bejeezers out of a speedbag. i craned to get a closer look and from what i could see She seemed to be in her mid 20s or early thirties. long hair tied up in a pony tail, wearing boyshorts and a sportsbra. i gulped hard as i marvelled at the speed, repetition and the control She exhibited smacking the leather. i watched as She smacked the ball very hard and then laughed while she was toweling herself and joking with another women who was working the heavy bag. Suddenly, I felt her eyes hit mine. She gazed right at me. like a scared rabbit i dashed into the kinkos to make my copies. i was afraid of making eye contact with Her again for fear that She might consider me a stalker or worse yet a pervert.

i waited in line to have my special copies made and found myself breathing a bit hard and my heart was thrumming out of my chest.

"oh had She seen me?" i puzzled.

i reflected on another experience from my youth in which i was soundly thrashed, beaten up and pummeled for what can only be construed to be misunderstood admiration at the corner of feminism awakening and comic book fantasizing. i collided full head on with the fists and kidney punching kicks of a female Bruce Lee. i recalled how i had tried to explain that i had Her raised on a pedestal and that i loved watching her move with fluidity performing graceful katas with unbelievably high kicks and lightning speed chops and punches. but somewhere between having a cut bleeding fatlip from Her formidable punches, to having the stuffing kicked out of me from roundhouse after roundhouse, my noble efforts were bludgeoned and muddled.i found it incredibly difficult to communicate my intentions when everytime i attempted i met Her cute pedicured feet or well manicured fist in my mouth. i ended up speaking in bloody gasps, and bruised gorey utterances which seemed indistinguishable and primative as the indiscernable grunts and groans of a drunk wasted man. i went home a puffy, beaten mess. my eyes blackened, thighs and ribs were black, blue and incredibly sore from constant, continual kicking. looking back, i was grateful that i still had all my remaining upper and lower teeth. i never ventured again to that intersection of femdomme and beaten down avenue. it was too traumatic to relive what happened on that bright sunny April afternoon. yet, following that horrible, humiliating and dominating beating, my submissive state was nailed securely in place by a pair of bloodied everlast pink wraps. I sought for years to soundly bury that part of me. the part which relished being beaten to a squashed cum stain under the fists of a vastly superior physically fit woman. i craved the blood, the pummeling the bruising and the jagged tongue lashings served cold with a heaping side helping of severe male inadequacy. in my vanilla life i wore a thespian's mask. for awhile, this covered the true or perceived persona of the real me. in actuality, i was in complete denial. i truly hungered to be fed, but in reality was starving the submissive man within me.

jumping in ...

hello everyone.  i especially want to welcome both Dominants and submissives to my page.  this is my first attempt at blogging and likewise my first post. i hope Y/you enjoy viewing my work and that Y/ou are able to  take something worthwhile away from studying it and viewing it. i am excited to share and to reflect on what i have learned and experienced in both the vanilla world and the bdsm one. please feel free to comment on my blog and to trackback as necessary.  i look forward to sharing future updates with Y/you. ~sushichum~

sneakered marks of belonging and approval

...as i bent down to straighten the mats on my floor my heart continued to pound. i felt terrible about going behind my Mistresses' back and playing with someone else who i thought could calm the fevers of my fetish. W/we hadn't said much to each other this evening and i could tell that She was highly amused by my obvious physical, shaken state of mind. yet, i was also confused by this behavior. i puzzled as i prepared the living room. my Mistress did not own me nor had She collared me. therefore, i felt like i had every right to go out and play with another Domme. however, i had not counted on the cleverness or intellect of my Mistress. She intended to semi punish me and at the same time reward me for this abroggation against Her. She arranged a session in which i would be be seriously beaten and taken apart by the other Mistress i had seen prior. thinking back, it was uncanny how she toyed with me and lured me in through Her fetish, laced, taunting text messages earlier during the day. i had not known that She had read the account of the session i had posted on the other Domme's web page. yet, it soon became apparent to me what She had in store for this wayward fish.

"well my fish, are you ready for O/our meeting?" She texted. I acknowledged as the plot began to reveal itself through our conversation.

" i want you to know that tonight will be the first time that i will share You with one of my dominant girlfriends." She continued, ..."She is quite skilled at martial arts and is very much looking forward to meeting with you." i feigned innocence and texted ..."gulp ...martial arts?" "expert" i stammered. "yes, my fish and i must say that you are in for one hell of a beating tonight." Her cryptic words sliced through me. She knew! somehow She knew! i suddenly felt queasy and sick to my stomach! i stammered through the texting a bit with "well ah..." She immediately shot back, "Whats that....hmmmmmmm?" i asked her for permission to call her on Her cell. i was happy and relieved that She granted it.

as W/we spoke on the phone i tried bravely to explain why i had done what i had done. i blubbered and whined like any sub who is caught in a cover-up would of. She listened intently, but was altogether too silent. She told me that She had read the post on the other Domme's blog and that She recognized immediately my style of writing. She also knew of my pathetic fetishes and put two and two together. "It all pointed to You my shaking fish." "Now, I am on my way to pick Her up." She spoke matter of factly. "I expect you to serve Me well by being Her ...hmmmm...how shall i say it? vastly inexperienced sparring partner." i knew immediately what She meant. i was going to be fish chum. i was silent ... scared and quite silent. She continued to tick off Her demands. "whats that? ... nothing to say ....awwww ... and here i though you would enjoy this?" Her mocking tone cut me down to size.
well i'm sure that You will be as respectful to Her as much as you are to me. i also expect to be entertained tonight you pathetic, silly fish." i suddenly knew what was about to happen. i asked my Mistress an inane question which the answer in and of itself was quite obvious. 'uh Mistress? about tonight ...." do you think i may need to cover my floor because of ... well You know?" "Whats that you squirmy fish? she spoke sharply back. "in case i bleed a little". She laughed. Not a giggle, and not a chortle, but a loud sarcastic belly laugh... "Oh yes ... there will be lots of blood and i intend to film every last drop. Now get a move on. W/we will be there shortly." *click*

as i bent down to straighten the mats on my living room floor my heart continued to pound. i was working on an over lap and looking towards the fireplace when all

of a sudden i winced in pain. i looked down at my hands. i saw a cute black and violet pair of size 8 Nike Air Pegasus' locked and bearing down on my hands. the pain and feeling of being trapped hurt, but it wasn't unbearable. i looked up into the bright green eyes of my Mistress. She was looking down at me smiling and i think approvingly. "Do you remember giving these to me?" She pointed to Her sneakers. i like them very much. i wear them often." She continued to gaze down at me, narrowed Her eyes and bore down even harder on my trapped hands. i felt the cartilage and bones in my hands shift uncomfortably and i knew that at any moment She could certainly break them and injure them very seriously. i was apprehensive, but somehow felt peace.

yet, at that moment i also knew in my heart that this was a symbolic sign on Her part, that no matter what happened tonight, i held some place of secondary significance in Her life as a submissive. She wanted me to know that without making a big scene. it was quite touching and intimate and memorable for me. She continued to bear down... this time even harder. i now felt the road eating black treads of Her Nike sneakers bite into my skin. my hands began to ache and sting. i stiffened up and my eyes watered. i looked up at Her as a solitary tear welled and ran down my cheek. satisfied with my response She removed the sneakers. upon lifting them up ... deep recessed areas of tread imprintings could be seen on the top of my hands. i struggled to get up. She smiled and said, "There, now that will leave some nice marks" i looked at my reddened, tread, gouged hands, suddenly and without warning i felt myself go quite hard. She gazed down at my embarrassed state and patted my cheek. "That's a good boy pet" as She walked back towards the kitchen, i beamed. this was the first time She had called me pet.

even though i knew i was headed for an excessively hard, violent beat down that night under the hands of another Mistress, i thought to myself. "i will walk through fire for You Mistress ... through fire ... if it indeed pleases You." -sushichum-