Her perspective empowers Her words

spattering revelation ...

While attending a gathering at a mutual friend's house, i found out truly what my Mistress thinks of my name. (the below depiction should give Y/you a strong graphic hint).

the duality of pain and tenderness

The Masochist desires to feel stronger sensations, but desires that it should be inflicted with Love.
The Sadist desires to inflict stronger sensations, but desires that it should be felt as Love.

the 10 commandments to follow in a Female Led BDSM relationship

reblogged post from Tumblr by: Under Her Authority

these are gems to liveby and integral to living sucessfully in a Femdom relationship.

Ten Commandments for a male submissive in a Female Led BDSM relationship

1. Dedicate your life to My happiness and give Me your uncompromising devotion.

2. Put My pleasure, My needs and My wishes before your own and never grumble or moan about it.

3. Obey My rules willingly and obey My commands immediately. Treat My suggestions as orders.

4. Never argue with Me. Give in to Me in all things. Submit to My will and to My authority.

5. Devote yourself to serving Me, both in and out of the bedroom.

6. All chores that need to be done at home are your job unless I decide otherwise.

7. Ask for My approval before doing anything, going anywhere or spending anything.

8. Listen to Me attentively when I speak to you.

9. Confess all your transgressions to Me and never, never lie to Me.

10. Request punishment when you deserve it and willingly submit to all punishments I apply.

results of an intense interrogation

Source: Uploaded by user via Fred on Pinterest

all i can say is that is one lucky bastard. wow!

O/our Dec. 21st Cool Yule party, and vanilla perceptions come to bdsm realizations

on Dec. 21st, i helped my Mistress prepare and celebrate "Yule", or the "Winter Solstice". She made sure that i was quite busy and involved in running many errands for Her, as W/we prepared for the evening. i was directed to shop and ferry Her friends back and forth between their homes and O/our party location. this was extremely satisfying for me. i love to be called to task and to serve my Mistress.

it was a wonderful, relaxing and mellow party. everyone seemed to have had a great time. W/we smoked unbelievably smooth tobacco from a hookah and enjoyed drinking rum and kahlua spiked eggnog. this was all celebrated with the traditional lighting of the "yule log (s)". my Mistress in Her imaginative and creative way incorporated ghoulish touches which focused

on the end of the Mayan calendar and the theme of "Hey, W/we're Still Here". She incorporated homey, little, dead touches; such as a skeleton sitting on O/our front porch holding a "bone(er)" and wearing a Santa hat with an empty bottle of Jack Daniels. She also had bones scattered about the house, mirrors smudged with bloody hand prints and a skull

peering out from the branches of O/our Yule tree. Her disturbing, yet charming touches added to the holiday atmosphere. everyone was mellow, smoking, enjoying the available libations, music, munchies and even toasting "smores" in O/our fireplace. the evening ended with the latest viewing of the film "Batman". it was a marvelous, stress free, warm and comforting party. a perfect way to take the "edge off", during this crazy time of year.

my Mistress and i were preparing to go out of town and needed someone to house sit while W/we were gone for the holidays. One of my Mistress's friends volunteered, and as W/we both walked Her to the front door, a friend of Hers came up and asked my Mistress if he too could stay with my Mistress's friend while She house sat. suddenly, i felt a weird numbness overtake me. indeed, i thought i had become invisible. after all, was i not the owner of this house? i started to interject, but with swiftness my Mistress stepped in and with polished confidence extended the invitation to him also. i felt like i had been stepped on and squashed, as if my opinion and voice had been effectively muzzled. what was unbelievable was that i allowed Her to take over ... to appear larger than life as the confident, dominant homeowner. it struck me that i was perceived by the outside world as Her pwhipped, houseboy and Her muted, powerless, male roommate.

after the conversation and the end of the party, i puzzled and puzzled in regard to what had just occurred. She saw that i was troubled about this and sought to clarify what had exactly happened.

"whats wrong?" She asked.

as i stood in Her bedroom doorway, i shuffled foot to foot, uncomfortable in Her knowing presence. She looked at me with those focused, piercing green eyes and said pointedly, "Well, It's because he knows ... that you ARE ... My bitch". there was an a awkward, uncomfortable silence between U/us which seemed to last for entirely too long.

i shuffled my feet, nodded my head and looked down. for, i knew She was right.

"Now, go get me some water as i wish to retire to bed." like the obedient slave i am, i did as i was told, shut Her door and wished Her goodnight.

my socks ARE HER socks

i am in the habit of doing my Mistress's laundry daily. it is something that i take great pride and responsibility in completing for Her.

recently, i was preparing to wash a load of my Mistress's clothes, when i noticed that She had a pair of soiled sport socks stuffed in Her tennis shoes. this is not unusual for my Mistress to do. She has a tendency to remove Her clothes and allow them to drop where they may. it is inconsequential as to where they may fall. She is entirely too involved and busy with writing, blogging and reminding and reprimanding a world which has lost it's human compass. Her work and comfort are paramount and She should not have to bother with the mundane or day to day household tasks which could blur Her focus. i pickup, clean-up, organize and straighten for Her. i am Her pet, and servant, and it is a delight for me to be allowed and used in this way.

i got off track a bit since what i was discussing was my Mistress's sport socks.
anyway, i picked them up and prepared to add them with the white things of Her wash. but, then i noticed that some marked similarities were apparent with Her socks and mine. after careful investigation, i noticed that these were not Her socks at all, but were instead,

my socks!

i was knocked off balance by this discovery! not sure why, but strange feelings of inferiority and male inadequacy rolled over me. puzzled with this discovery, i wondered how She could fit and wear my socks. then the realization hit me ... She and i were almost the same shoe size. She wears a women's size 8, and i wear a men's size
8. There was not much difference in regard to our respective shoe sizes. the practical difference lies in mere inches.

as a slave to my Mistress, i can look at this in one of two ways. the first perspective focuses on Her continuing to absorb that which is me into Her world. this is a fetishist point of view and feeds into the mindset that "what was once mine, is now Hers." She sucks the life out of me and snuffs me out taking everything i formally owned in the process.

however, a more realistic explanation would be. hey, She ran out of Her socks, or couldn't find any of Her own. She felt comfortable and inclined to use mine until i finished with the remaining pieces of Her laundry.

Yes, i like that explanation much better. although, it is nice to fantasize once in awhile.

as far as shoe sizes and the interpretation thereof. well ... (long pause) that is another subject for another future blog post. the long and short of it remains to be seen.