I’m gonna speak
Like you’re right there
Standing in this hallway
Like it’s not bare
I’m gonna scream
Like you’re right here
Standing in the dark
Not god knows where
I’m gonna cry
And pretend you care
That our love is no longer standing
Because you didn’t care
Goodbye to the whore
You couldn’t afford
Goodbye to the cunt
You didn’t deserve
Goodbye to the slut
You couldn’t love
Goodbye to the bitch
You couldn’t handle
Preface - this blog is quite possibly my most personal post to date. I’m not a fan of the personal blog. Mine or any other. That said, I am getting ready to launch my book early next year and need to build my platform. For that purpose I will be returning to my literary roots and slamming you with some mad poetry on these pages from this point forward. I hope you will check back regularly to share my words and thoughts in that form and that in their stylistic and concise way they will reach you and teach you even more than what I have shared so far...because Mistress loves to spit. Spit poetry.
POST
Hey punks - and pumpkins (my Japanese friends get the weirdest looks on their face when I call them that, ‘pumpkin’, because pumpkin is a very popular food in Japan and they know what it is but they don’t know what I mean and it’s not worth explaining so I just giggle and smile at their strange face, struggling to process what the hell I just called them)...
So remember when my last blog post where I waxed poetic about all the progress in my relationship with the slavee/husband? Remember the post before that? My first one in Japan, where I discussed how part of my reason for leaving the US was to escape the wake of his destruction? Well, I sit before you, at my computer screen a humbled woman - once again. Just days after I made the previous post the slave succumbed to his demons of trauma and depression and has disappeared once again down the narrow path of death and destruction that is his level of substance abuse.
The good news? Yes, the good news. This time, two things were different. One, I was too far away for him to seek me out physically with his emotional rage and financial and physical dependency and two...and this one is hard to admit...but it is true nonetheless...my heart strings broke. I am free, finally.
They snapped. Right in two.
We were close. Sooo close. He was to join me this fall, in our new land, our new home. But instead I laid on “our” bed in a foreign land with only myself and the shrill sobbing tore through me mercilessly. I heard myself. I HEARD myself, because often times the pain he has evoked in my life is so deep that it thrust me outside of my body in a dire attempt to survive and not loose parts of myself forever. I disassociate. So there I am, outside of my body, in the dark room, past midnight on this island nation and I hear myself. I really hear her. And I realize I have heard her cry like this once before.
When I was 12 and my life and family were melting down in the ways I would apparently grow to repeat with the slave, I used to curl into a ball in my bedroom, in the basement, at the bottom of the stairs and I would wail. Position three I call it today. I have four standard positions for all slaves. It is also called child’s pose by some of you. I had hoped, back then, that the carpet would do a good enough job muffling my cries that I could avoid my mother’s backlash. But I never did. She would stand at the top of the stairs and shame my expression, deny my pain and over all make me feel like shit for feeling what was happening around us to all of us, and that memory has never left me. Staring up at her through swollen eyes, only to hear her say, “If you keep screaming like that you’re going to ruin your children someday.”
Sidenote - later my mother told me a story about walking into a church for an Alanon meeting only to be greeting by the sounds of a woman's wails. Following the sounds, my mother made her way into the sanctuary, which had a balcony. She walked down the aisle until she emerged from beneath the balcony and could look up, spotting the source of the sound. A beautiful woman with long flowing hair and angelic dress was grasping the railing at the front of the balcony and filling the entire, empty sanctuary with her sobs. When the mysterious woman saw my mother she stopped, looked down, and smiled.
“What are you doing?” My mother asked. No doubt the public plastic smile she has perfected masking her alarm and disgust.
“I’m wailing,” the woman said, “you should try it sometime. It’s great for the soul. Very healing.”
My mother told me that story, I believe, as a form of apology. The only kind of apology she knows - to let me know she knows I’m not the only freak in the world who enjoys practices she cannot fathom, cannot understand.
So right here at this creative impass, what you cannot see reader, is that in this very public Starbucks where I am writing this post (yes they have Starbucks in Japan, Starbucks is everywhere) I am pausing to collect myself because it turns out dealing with the slave’s addiction and my mother’s codependency have become one dual exercise or exorcise in my life at the moment and if I ever wanted two birds with one stone I guess...spiritually...this is it?
So there I am, just a few weeks ago, grown and on the other side of the world, literally as far away from the two of them as I can get, and my father’s grave - my OG of addiction - and there it is again - that sound. There she is again. That wailing female. And she is me.
It didn’t last long. Nothing that painful is sustainable. You either die or you get up and try (again). But that wasn’t the worst part, the strangest part, the most alarming unarming part. What happened next is what will change my life.
I blacked out. I guess. THEN. I woke up. I don’t know what time it was. I was back in my body. I had apparently fallen asleep to the sound of my own sobs. And there it was. THERE IT FINALLY FUCKING WAS.
Relief. A broken heart. The strings, the cords tying me to all that had been and all that I hoped would be had finally snapped. I had found the limits of my own love and after decades of the weight of carrying another’s pain and neglect and abuse I. WAS. FREE. All I felt was relief. Sweet relief. And even sweeter release. All because my sweet heart had finally broken. She'd had a enough.
My mother told me once, "When you've had enough, you will leave."
Let me review this for you, like I needed to do for myself at that scared, silent moment alone in my dark room, lying naked and tear stained on the mattress: my husband relapsed just weeks short of joining me in a new and sparking life and after it tore my heart to shreds all I felt was better.
Hello eclipse season. Hello to the season of Leo, of the heart. Hello to eclipsing the past and blasting into the present, into a new reality. A totally different now.
The best part? I felt zero shame. I felt zero guilt. I felt zero sadness. I did not do this. This was not my choice. This happened TO me. It was the result of my choice to pursue my best life and live in alignment with the universe and the choice of some others to continue to sleep, to choose to not be awake. Some of those emotional zombies are the people I love most in this world - my mother and my husband - but I can’t do for them what every man or woman (or other gender) must do for themselves. My choice to love myself and cling to the universe and it’s love and integrity and purpose somehow freed me a few weeks ago. I’m not sure why, or how or even what the future holds for my loved ones and I but what I do know is that today I am able to live with peace, for the first time, even as they continue to swirl in the turmoil of their own making.
We are not responsible for what others do to us, but we are each responsible for what we do with what has been done to us.
I choose to live, I choose truth, I choose to set boundaries that honor myself and those around me. I choose not to do the work for another that would benefit them the most. I choose me. I choose life. I choose love. I choose to be this alone and feel this isolated in a foreign land without the love of a mother, without the love of a husband. I choose to not have children. I choose art. I choose to create, to contribute, to laugh and to LIVE. I choose the light. I choose to be awake in this life that was a gift given to me. I choose to embrace the light and the dark in all of us. I choose balance. I choose power.
Ok I wasted enough time looking for that one GD perfect picture that would complete this blog to my heart's content - but later...for that...I guess. This one will do tho - Durga (Maa) is a bad ass. She slays demons and upholds moral order. And rides a lion. I dig. Sometimes we are meant to not find the thing we want so we can find the thing we need.
So here we are again, dear hearts. It's the midst of Leo season. Well, actually the very beginning - zero degrees to be exact, and for those of you who do not know that's basically the most important/powerful point that can be occupied by a season, planet, moment, etc.
Why is this significant? Well because after about 15 years of sitting at this laptop creating fabulous content but with little intent I have figured out there are really only two times I write/post - when I'm experiencing PMS or a Leo transit. Like this one, like this Leo transit, that also happens to include two complete eclipses. Praise Be. Praise Be I'm on this side of the world aka Japan and not that one aka America where the solar eclipse will literally pass over the entire country. No, I ain't trying to be that pagan about it - also another reason I ran to Japan.
So here's what's happening - slavee has been sober nearly 9 months. The joy in my heart right now, the gratitude, the trepidation, the faith? Cannot be accurately expressed. My baby was barely 21 when I met him. In a few months he will be 30. I have watched him grow from a boy into a man, from a victim to a champion, from an addict to a human, from a friend, to my enemy and finally my husband. And I have watched myself as a Mistress, a friend and a wife do one very important thing - I have released all the codependent tendencies in my life. I am free of the need, once and for all, to please. Oh what, you thought all doms were selfish cunts? I wish, I wish that were true. It's more true that that paradigm is in reality turned on its head and good dominants are some of the most emotionally and mentally exploited folks in the scene. Yea, that. I could have continued my life, unexamined, and functioned well enough. But the trials and tribulations my husbands trauma and subsequent disease put us through gave me the painful opportunity to truly, deeply and madly look at my own self. And only after looking into the heart of the darkness was I able to find total and complete freedom from my own painful, addiction riddled past (my dad died from the disease). In short, my husband saved me from mediocrity. And to a dominant Goddess who values beauty, raw honesty and efficiency there is no greater gift.
So continuing onward - my husband, my slave, my soulmate is alive. This was something I was not always able to take for granted. There were moments I witnessed death rapping at his door. There were moments I looked at him and said, "The disease is winning, if you want to live you must fight for your life." But he is alive, and he is sober and soon he will join me here, on the other side of the world. And besides riding his perfect cock until it is sore my first agenda is rope, rope and more rope. It has always been slavee's fantasy to experience predicament bondage. I thought I could bottom for rope but alas I was wrong, wrong, wrong. I attended a phenomenon rope dojo last month in Tokyo. I spent exactly 20 minutes in the ropes and a week later work in the middle of the night - every nerve on fire where every fiber of the rope had touched my skin. Thus I am cursed and slavee is blessed that I must relinquish any desire I might have to be inside the ropes (I kinda already knew this) and dedicate my focus to developing the skills of a badass fulltime rope top.
So yes - Leo season. Last summer I wrote the first draft of my manuscript. That too was during a Leo season. I was alone, at the farm in West Virginia and I spent hours everyday doing it. I'm alone again, in Japan, alone for the first time in Japan. My kinky sidekick @kiarrith took a plane home last week after 5 fucking fabulous weeks together that we shared in my new life here. Now...it's just moi. A few weeks ago, the manuscript started to creep back up on me. It was like a glowing energy growing slowly on the horizon. I know it's time to dive back into her again but GD I hate looking at my own work. It. Makes. Me. Feel. So. Uncomfortable. I'm also experimenting with total sobriety and a new workout routine so all of this adulting is just...adulting. I came to Japan to get serious, and boy have I. This former wake and bake babe hasn't hit the stuff in mooonths and I've never been really good at drinking or interested in much else (too scary, something called acid? are you fucking kidding me? no thanks). But I digress...
So here I am in Japan, being all serious, loving this new life even if I must love it differently than my former one. A time, a season, for everything. I like this new season. The thrills are different. So are the people. The subtly and nuance is enough to make one paranoid - or hyper successful. Today I look again at this manuscript - for the first time since I finished it last summer. I don't have children. My message to the world is my child. It's almost time to give birth and set her loose upon the world. Because what you don't need is another tell all, salacious memoir that exploits stigma for a paycheck. But what I can give you, my people, is the lessons I've learned from it aaalll. From being queer, from being a sex worker, from being a Goddess, from being a drag queen, from being a Dominatrix, from being a preacher's daughter, from marrying my slave, from from from from...
Wisdom. That is what makes the world worth going round. Well that and love. Money and sex may MAKE the world go round sure, but hey, that's not a bad thing either.
Hugs. Kisses. Miss Vee
Just wrapped up a 6 way - on skype, you dirty pervs - with the Kanto Area Kink counsel. They are kind enough to let me join them at the sampler workshop they are organizing this weekend in Tokyo. My portion of the event will include sensual bondage (scarves), verbal bondage (D/s) bondage with plastic/saran wrap and quick ties (rope bondage). I hope you can join us. Follow the links below to RSVP on Fetlife.
“ Come give it a try!”
I'm Going!maybe going | not going
Date & Time:in 2 daysSaturday, June 10, 2017 · 2:00 PM – 4:30 PM
Location:
Our Space
#101 2-chome 1-1 Hatagaya, Shibuya-ku 151-0072 @ map
Cost:500 yen at the door.
Dress code:Casual to the door. You may change inside, but keep keep it street legal.
Description:
Have you ever felt like you've been interested in something for a while, and you just needed to get a chance to try it? Here's your chance! We've been talking about it for a while, and Kanto Area Kink is ready to set off our very first Sampler event! Come join us at Our Space for a few hours of education and sampling, provided by a panel of local experts in a safe environment. Here is a list of activities that we came up with, and have been requested by the Community:
-Shibari
-Impact play
-Electrostim play
-Negotiation Skills
-D/s Protocol
-Breath Play
-Burlesque Seduction/Lap Dance
-Wax Play
-Rapid Restraint (quick ties with simple bonds/verbal cues)
-Tantric Kink/Energy Practices
With the possibility of adding more as we get closer!
What can you expect? All these events are available for people to try from either a bottoming or Topping perspective...our presenters are prepared and happy to instruct as well as provide examples! Depending on how many people show, and the popularity/intricacies of each event, each individual session will probably last ten to thirty minutes, depending on the Presenter...this is purely so we can make sure everyone gets a chance to have a go at all the activities they are interested in, and depending on the flow of the evening, it could be possible for more!
As a side note, this event does fall on the same date as the illustrious Torture Garden, but as this is an afternoon event, there is plenty of time for both!
Rules:
-No photography.
-No Alcohol
-Presenters have the right to deny a scene for any reason, primarily safety.
-No play outside stations.
-Presenters and other event managers are the final authority on all matters of safety.
Here is a handy map to the location! http://www.maru-z.com/ourspace/Access.html
If anyone has any questions, or wishes to volunteer as a Presenter for an activity they feel qualified in, please post in the related post in the KAK forums: https://fetlife.com/groups/101379/group_posts/10924…
I gotta write this blog first so I can do anything else. The humidity level is rising (apparently June is the worst in this island nation...rain,rain won’t go away). And my hormone level continues to rise as well. When my cycle finally starts this month it’s going to be like a dam bursting and I’m going to gleefully stand in the flow and drown myself while it all goes down - my tits, my weight, my belly. It ain’t easy being a Goddess. Every month is a near evolution in femininity. I get why some women choose to lock it all behind a chemical door. But that’s not my style. True confession: I live for the red raging river because I never feel more alive than when my entire body is pulsing with the painful sacrifice of shedding and I’m still standing, despite the discomfort, the mood swings, the migraines.
Slavee got dumped, again, this month. Not his fault, the timing anyway. But the reasons? Aaalll his at this point. Mistress is done done done with thirsty bitches. I think this is becoming a recurring theme in the life of this blogger. Recovery ain’t easy either baby and I was a Class A co-dependent for most of my life. But it’s worth it. I’m a giver. I want a giver, because I want balance. Fuck opposites attract - when did that ever make anyone happy? “Love is a meditation in the ultimate surrender” - @nadiyashah (she’s a Class A astrologer who introduced me to the world of Youtube and all it’s fine forecasters and I vibe on her energy she’s so positive a light in a dark world thank you Nadiya).
And the food - dear Goddess how I ache. The stomach. She’s hurting. Am I bitching? Good, I earned it. Two full nights now up and trying to figure out whether I accidentally ate some gluten (ok maybe not sooo accidentally) or whether my spleen is about to rupture. Seriously, I’ve cheated before but it’s never, ever felt like this and I’m starting to get worried. My physical well being has always been a priority and in this new land I’m not always sure what I’m doing. Ok, most of the time I’m clueless. And once again I’m on my own. My host works, a lot. And I’ve always been more than a bit of a loner, although a friendly one...so wandering the aisles of my local grocery store with Google translate open on my phone is fine by me but some days it feels like between my budget and my nutritional needs I’m getting just about no where. And that’s when I break down and just buy one of those little bento boxes that they mark down 50% at 9 pm and I go home with a bottle of cheap sake and say, “Fuck it - I’m in Japan,” and put on Netflix and chill.
Yesterday, Mom called. She’d been trying to reach me for a day, so I answered. I was in public. I sat down on a bench. Turns out that bench was a bust stop. That’s when the old Japanese man screamed in my face about talking on my fon and his tiny old friends all laughed. I rolled my eyes, kept talking and walked away until I found a suitable wall to lean against in some nondescript corner. It’s absolutely forbidden to talk on your phone or play music on (or near apparently) public transportation. Like the dude just appeared out of nowhere. I was exhausted from a day on my feet in this humidity riddled nation (it’s worse than Seattle) and it was an honest mistake. And it was my Mother, bitch. And a huge #Gaijin moment. Won’t be my last. Oops. Sorry (not sorry?). That and the drunk Japanese woman yelling Gaijin go home at me last weekend in the gayborhood. The thing is they have zero follow through, no guns, no violence. But ay-yo the Olympics are going to be veeery interesting.
Quick disclaimer - most of these people, ok like all except the two mentioned above? Are angels. I love it here, the loneliness is just starting to set in but hey it means I blog more now because this is my escape back to English speaking land and my cultural safe space so there’s that and yes I still love it here and would rather be yelled at by harmless xenophobes than watch my own POC citizens get systematically oppressed by their government and shot down by cops with guns. Yea...this, over that, any day. But especially today.
It’s raining, again, of course. Speaking of cheating I need to get my steak on tonight. TGIF. Once a month. I live for that juicy red piece of protein that I only allow myself just prior to the other juicy redness that I love. They go hand in hand. Science, nutrition, nature - do it or it’ll do you because the only thing more ancient than sex is her flow.
All right...I’ll write...I think that is enough. You got your fix and I got my emotional/brain dump and can return to more potent matters at hand:
Guess who has a photo shoot and feature profile in her new country coming up in two weeks? Yip Yip iii Me.
Feeling really emotional today - and by emotional I moved. Moved by this entire experience that is setting in, I’m really here, this is not a dream. Also hormones. Goddess bless the tiny particles of my humanity that make me fully woman. And take me on a trip every month. But that’s better than the alternative right now which would be pregnancy. Had a minor mishap a few weeks ago with a friend who shall remain nameless. That’s why I discovered exactly how backwards this country can be when it comes to its treatment of women, specifically their healthcare. There are exactly 4 types of birth control available in this country - two types of pills and two IUDs. THAT’S. IT. Well and abortion of course. They don't have our moral hang ups about that one but even then it gets the same obscure treatment that all the other options do. If your doctor thinks what you should really be doing is staying home and having babies, they can deny you. And if you bring more than one pack of birth control pills with you when entering the country? Better have that customs paperwork ready.
Oh and the condoms are tiny. Tiiinyyy. A lesson I learned the hard way. Wonder how many packs of condoms I can bring in without having to declare my slutty intentions?
You know what else is not helping? This damn music! All they play in this country are American tunes I associate with my recent transition because it’s all the current-ish stuff and so I’m sitting here attempting not to miss my babies back home too much when what I should be doing is getting my shit together.
And oh that’s another thing...think I can ‘clean up’ in this country as a Pro Femdom like everyone thought and felt the need to tell me before I left? Well let me just say good thing THAT was not my plan. I picked the perfect country for a professional sabbatical because it’s nearly impossible for international pros to work in this country. And why is that you ask? Because domination services of the pay for play type are JUST legal enough that if you don’t have the proper status (permanent resident or Japanese national) you cannot do that kind of work. That's what I learned when I headed out on Saturday to check out the local kinky commercial enterprises.
Also, no dungeons in this country. Like none. Unless it's a porn production venue and then it can only be porn, no sessions. All the “Dungeons” with Mistresses for hire here are actually dispatch services. The love hotel phenom is real in this country and that is were the girls do all their work. But hey I’m not gonna knock it because I fucking love a hotel session. I mean granted I do have a hotel fetish, but it was more than that. One of my favorite memoreis is when I walked into a client’s hotel room with nothing but a medium size black purse. When I dropped it on the bed he looked at me incredulously standing there in my little black dress and stilettos and asked, “What are you going to do with that?” the anticipatory dissatisfaction spreading across his face. I grinned my evil grin at him and through narrowed eyes said, “Give me an hour and I’ll show you.” Trust within 60 minutes I had blown this man’s damn mind and he was eating his words. So yes, hotel sessions can be incredibly awarding, precisely because they push the creativity and imagination of the professional.
But I digress, so yes - even if I could find a place to advertise and slipped passed the international prohibitions there would not be a dungeon available and as I stated that wouldn’t necessarily hamper my style but from what I’ve seen many would be subs outside of Japan get all up in their feelings once they realize you’re not sinking all your earnings into a massively expensive space and spending your days sitting around the cross in full dress just waiting for their call. Sorry guys, I started this ish right when the world went online and so unfortunately for both of us that has meant that for the entirety of my career the pain in the ass effort of maintaining a studio was only worth it if you did porn (or illegal activities for which you could charge more). But needless to say - Japan and I get it and I wish I could play here because I would love to meet some more people but alas that will have to wait until I find another access point...maybe I could apply for an artist visa? Lmao
But I do miss it. Mistress cannot tell a lie. There’s one little Japanese boy down the way with a car and plenty of time to burn apparently. He has politely and consistently hit me up since I arrived (and updated my location on Fetlife) so I’m going to see him for lunch this week and see what I think. The point to this sabbatical is I have zero time for thirsty bitches. A beautiful woman puts “Dominant” on her profile and suddenly the whole world treats her like a water fountain and they just keep coming. That is a line that never ends. So yeah...sigh. But at the same time I could use a pair of boots on the ground to help me with a few local projects, answer my questions, and accompany me to mixed events.
Speaking of, I just want to give a shout out to the Kanto Area Kink Group that hosted the May picnic I attended yesterday. You all were absolutely worth the 3 hour trek by train to get there, a feat I didn’t think possible just moments before arriving, lol. If yesterday’s event is any indicator Mistress is going to be very, VERY pleased with the caliber of fellow native English speaking players in my new home. Turns out if you cross the world, you find other folks like yourself who are educated, brave, open, curious, emotionally intelligent and capable and enthusiatic enough to take on the challenge of living and succeeding in a foreign land. It was also my first picnic in this country, a huge cultural tradition and a memory I will always cherish for both reasons. And the weather was perfect. Thank you KAK for helping this perverted gaijin along and for finally answering my question “Why are there no damn paper towels in the bathrooms?!!!”. Answer - the japanese hand towel tradition. These people bring their own small towels every where they go for just this type of situation. Think of the waste that saves! OMG And also, suddenly, the little red hankie in my bag that I carry with me everywhere? His day got a little brighter. In America my friends used to make fun of me for always carrying a hanky. I told them it was part of my culture (country girl) and to stop making fun of it. Well, seems I found another culture that shares and appreciates my little custom. Go us.
Ok, now that I’ve written all this mental clutter from my mind - time to get back to the real work I need to do. Love you guys. Kisses from Tokyo.
Chapter 1
Paragraph 1
The sky was yellow. The wind was strong. The sand storm tore at the face masks of the passengers. They clamored across the tarmac, climbed the staircase and disappeared. Inside she sat down, two stones in her pockets. In the right pocket she carried a smooth grey pebble with the word, “Hope,” carved into the surface. In her left pocket was a white crystal, plucked from the mountains near her home. Around her neck hung a piece of amber surrounded by silver in the shape of a tree, bent by the wind. Wound about one of her hands was a piece of hair, dark kinky hair she once twisted into a loch, many years before. Finally she reached into her purse and pulled out a cartoonish figurine in the shape of a moose, a tiny red scarf wrapped around it’s neck, and placed it on the empty seat next to her. Then the pre-boarding announcements began, first in Chinese, then in English. Next stop Tokyo.
I have no right to invoke her name. She is Zora Neale Hurston and her book changed my life.
It wasn’t the story per se, although that was magnificent, but the structure that struck me. A woman not much older than I am now returned to the front porch, wrapped herself in a shawl like the nets of the sea, and told her story.
My undergraduate degree is in English. I studied a lot of literature. I loved it. My professor described this style of narrative like bookends, a framework that completes a story by giving it the boundaries, the shape it needs. I never forgot that. I knew someday my story would fit into that frame.
So here I am, in Japan, and I’ve finally found my second bookend. I’m about to sit down on the porch and tell you a story. My story, taken with liberties. Taken from real life but produced in a way that is more true to the form than the art. As an english major, I’m a story slut. I tell you this now, that when it comes to this project I will be more concerned with the quality of the story telling than the details. My goal is to convey the truths of my journey, not the details of my life. It also makes me feel safe to cling to story rather than life. And I’m also sick to death of all the tell-all tales out there from fly by night ‘pros’ that take advantage of the misunderstanding of my craft in exchange for a dollar and that encourage the mainstream to continue to stigmatize my craft.
I’m also more than a Dominatrix. And frankly, as I get more in touch with my heart and the reality of my vulnerability (and courage) I find that much more interesting. It will all be there though, don’t worry, because it is all part of my journey and I loved every second I spend in a dungeon. Every second. So I will share, I want to share. I want to share aaalll of me with you. I hope that the revelation of my own complex, multidimensional self and sexuality will help you appreciate more your own amazing universe.
And they say the first page/paragraph of a book determines whether someone will want to read the book.
So here goes, two weeks after the journey completed and I escaped to Japan, this is what I have...it’s not much. But it’s a start.
Something’s got to give…
Bub (my brother): Sis remember when 9/11 happened and you were in DC and Mom and Mike threatened to drive out from Montana and pack you up and move you back home?
Me: Yea…
Bub: Well now it’s about to be World War 3 and you’re headed right back into the middle of it again. What’s up with that?
Me: Well, Bro...war is part of life. And next time it happens it’s going to happen everywhere. So if it’s going to happen, this time when it happens, I want to be in a country with no guns, no opiod epidemic and no race wars.
Bub: …
#Japan
Remember that story line in Friends, where Ross gets someone else pregnant. Rachel is really upset when she finds out because she told Ross they were just on a break. But Ross thinks they were broken up?
Yeah, well in that scenario I’m Rachel and my country and my family are Ross. They think I’ve left them for good. But really we’re just on a break. Yep I ex-pat’ed the fuck outta my life and country and loves. Now as long as the USA doesn’t knock somebody else up while I’m in Japan we should be okay.
Ten years ago was my last sabbatical. In the past ten years since that trip back home to Montana I have taken only one trip that wasn’t to see clients. That was last December when my Mom took me to Mexico. A country with a culture that is warm, heart-felt and full of humor. That trip definitely sparked something in me. Or more accurately it reignited something inside of me - a desire to experience life beyond the American borders.
My reasons for coming to Japan are many, not just one. And those reasons are layered. They run into one another. Was it my traumatic marriage to my slave who is still in treatment for addiction? Sure that was part of it. He’s doing better but I still needed to be somewhere he couldn’t get to me without my consent because it seems every time he’s done that in the past decade he manages to melt down my world in a matter of days and I have to start all over again.
Is it the ignorant and racist attitudes of my dearest loved family members that have come to light since the recent election? Yea, that’s definitely part of it too.
Is it my need for adventure? My desire to travel? My desperate want for a respite from the scene? The pro life? The impact of the drug epidemic on my personal life? The lack of a living wage? The fucking hateful rhetoric of my country at the moment? The free bed in a warm home waiting for me in Tokyo? Yes, yes and yes.
So that’s why I left. But why did I choose to go to Japan? Why not South America, or Europe where as one friend said, “They know how to enjoy life.” Because I’ve spent the past decade plus “enjoying” life. I’ve lived. I've liiived. If I wanted it, I’ve had it. If I want to do it, I’ve done it. My life has not been short on experience and my memory is full of moments that I will cherish forever. But there’s more to life than that…
And that is where my self identity and this Japanese culture intersect:
I value ritual. They have it in spades in this country.
I value manners. Respect is the name of the game in this country.
I love discipline. Yep they have that too.
I value kink. PLENTY of that here.
I value peace. As a survivor of multiple sexual assaults (all prior to becoming a pro and part of my vanilla life not my kink life) I can walk down the street here at 2 am more than a little tipsy and not have to look over my shoulder constantly or clutch my keys in fear or worry about what is hiding behind every shadow. You have no idea how valuable that is to a survivor of sexual assault and domestic abuse. Basically by making the choice to move myself halfway around the world I eliminated the vast majority of my triggers and for that reason I now spend my days in peace. Priceless.
I am healing. I am the adult child of an alcoholic who is finally getting on top of her issues. It's been a long, hard fought, barely begun to be won battle. But I am still standing. And at this point I feel I deserve some GD rewards for my efforts thus far. So I decided to put myself first and to go out and get them. I gave myself a pass. That pass came in the form of a plane ticket. A very expensive plane ticket. To a very different place, very far away from home. So. Be. It.
I am here, in Japan, to heal. I am also here to take some bad ass rope bondage classes and get my kink on on the international level. Torture Garden of London fame is hosting a fetish ball in Tokyo in a few weeks. OMG I cannot wait.
This country I’ve chosen isn’t perfect. No place is, but for now Japan offers me the ritual, discipline, spiritual sanctity, financial security, physical safety and professional opportunities that I can’t find in my own country, especially at this moment in history. Yes, I feel safer here, practically within spitting distance of North Korea and it's nukes, than I did walking down the street at night in my own country. As a solitary soul and an independent woman I spent many nights in fear, because I was alone - as Goddess intended - but I was alone in a country full of dangers for a woman like myself.
I am an introvert. I now gleefully spend my days walking silently through the tiny streets of my Tokyo neighborhood. I use google translate to communicate. I bow a lot. I make eye contact with people, something I never did back home. I smile at strangers. It feels so good.
The food is fresh as fuck. The people are gentle. The fashion is on point. The aesthetic is dynamite. And they love a tall blonde gaijin. There’s even Starbucks so I can still get my fix.
I just had to do it. I couldn’t wait one more moment. The more loved ones I lost to over dose the more I began to realize just how short life really is. And how precious. And how fragile. I’ve spent my entire life in service to other’s needs. It's called being a codependent. It was time to put myself first. I bet that’s a secret you didn’t know about being the best - the best dominants out there are in it for someone else. Almost always.
For me it was beyond being merely a ‘service top.’ I was and still am and always will be in service to my destiny, to the fates. Most days I wouldn’t choose this life. I hate being marginalized, misrepresented, judged and commodified by family, friends, lovers and the media whether it's because I'm kinky, a woman, a blonde, a queer or a sex worker. Most days I just crave a normal existence, even though I know the concept of normal is an illusion, really. But what I did need and could get that Japan gives me is a sense of peace, an advanced aesthetic and a sophisticated society.
America - you’re mean. There - I said it. And that’s coming from a Dominatrix. It’s my job to be mean and I still just can’t with you anymore. Not right now. So I quit. We're on a break. It's a symptom of a larger problem sure, most of which is my responsibility but nonetheless I choose to quit making myself available to any place or person who can’t or won’t appreciate me for me. After all, I’m just a girl. A girl with a whip. A woman who deserves love. A human. Being.
I don’t know when (or if) I’ll be back. My relationship with my new country is very new and like most new relationships I’m probably heady on all kinds of new relationship energy (NRE, go google it if you don’t know what that means). Once the dust settles, I’ll decide what my next move is. One step at a time, right? But one thing is for sure - I’m done with countries, men, communities and clients that may tolerate hate, anger and poor taste. Life is too short for anything less than beauty and love.
May you find what you are looking for. I know I have. Thank you Japan and thank you America. Maybe someday we will meet again.
Good bye for now. Love, Me
This is it! The final lot! Mistress is definitely interested in offers for the whole thing, part 1 and 2. I am not pricing these items because I prefer you to tell me what you can afford. I want these fabulous pieces to go to homes that will value and enjoy them. So dive right in - make an offer! Email dominavontana@gmail.com
Homme Mystere is lingerie designed for the male body. It is flattering, sexy and feminine. One of a kind and wonderful to wear! I adore this brand.
Spareparts Hardwear Sasha - ruching, garters, size medium. The best harness I've ever owned but the slave/husband hates anal so it needs to go to a good home where it will be appreciated. Machine washable, super secure fit/ride - no gapping during your hottest moments, just up close and personal play. Fits most (all but the most huge) dildos. I adore this thing but not using it makes me sad so it's got to go!
Gorgeous satin crystal studded steel boned corset with garters. This thing is the real deal. Size small.
Luxury brand Lelo silk blindfold definitely the most expensive blindfold I've ever bought lol retails for $70 I know redic - but oh so lovely and secure - elastic band at the back keeps it in place then tie the two ends for sexy flair
Satin French style balconnete bra - think sexy nip slip size 34C
You know what this is - haha size medium #schoolgirlskirt
Hand dyed size 34C full figure retro lingerie
Rago size medium one full skirt one half skirt 6 garters each full figure retro lingerie
Full slip retro full figure lingerie 4 garters size small
Scarves for #bondage my absolute fav style of bondage #sensualdomination
Boots!!! thigh high 3 pairs all size 8.5 one plain one with metal laces in the front the other with metal laces in the back so fun to wear!
#leather #bondage #hood this fucker is no joke total #blackout multiple straps #sensorydeprivation
bedazzle yer bewbies both size 36B
This looks sooo good on, always so many compliments 3/4 sleeve size medium
Anjou anal plug medium stainless steel boil ten minutes to sanitize put in the freezer for thermal play fabulous toy high quality brand love this piece but got a new one
Random bondage gear (tape) and some knives and nipple clamps and oh - some zip ties too
Violet wand (you knew that right?) works perfectly, missing one attachement - the other 3 are there (as you can see)
Doing a little spring cleaning. See pics below. Email your offer to dominavontana@gmail.com.
Delightful Dragon tongue/tail, the perfect snap, light weight handle, leaves marks that last for daaays ~evil snicker
Three tongue leather whip. Beautiful and versatile. Like new
Fabulous heavy braided handle. Two different patterns. I think the design of this toy is a little experimental. Honestly I enjoy using the long thuddy handle for impact more than the short tails for whipping although they are great for light sensation work with sensitive sensual or novice bottoms
Elk hide, 20 strands. Used to be my favorite until some ass hat at a party stole the matching flogger. I only flog in pairs lol so this has to go. nice light to medium play but still capable of leaving marks and good for female or small stature players who like to flog all night without getting fatigued by heavy toys.
HEAVY flogger. 20 braided strands w tassels. I believe it's deerskin.
Leather by Danny. Love that guy. Lifetime warranty on all his stuff.
New. Stiff. Needs breaking in. The shape allows for scratching and tickling as well as slapping.
Silicone heart shaped crop "not for beginners" was slavee's comments after receiving a few whacks. It's small but capable of delivering intense sensation that is both thuddy and stingy - the hallmark of the recent silicone slippers hitting the market.
Medium lined leather wrist cuffs. Sturdy and comfortable. Great for play or wearing all day.
Unlined leather ankle cuffs - medium. Gonna miss these. First pair I ever bought. Basic but hold a great deal of sentimental value. Enjoy!
Your basic leather dog leash. 8 ft. Snap is heavy solid brass.
Acrylic paddle with holes. I hate these things they're so damn loud lol
This.Is.SO SEXY. but the matching garter broke so I'm selling it. Fantastic for a female slave or dominant or even a petite male submissive.
Meditation progress report. Made it twenty minutes, twice today. That makes four times in three days.
Last Friday night I lit a fire and got some sage advice re #yoga. Every year I save my Christmas boughs, because them bitches go up like a flame thrower. Light a match, stand back, feel the rush of heat as it splashes your cold cheek.
Because we were near a new moon I knew the stars would be out. It made for good watching. My friend, we’ll call him John, is a meditation teacher, and a real hard ass. When I started whining to him fireside over glasses of wine how everyone I knew meditated except me and I didn’t know why he laughed. The kind of knowing laugh that comes before a ball busting.
"If you knew what meditation was,” he said, “you’d be doing it all the time.”
I wish I would have recorded what he said next but basically he alikened it to mastrubation for the mind and said it was a great yet simple thing, simple it what it accomplishes, effective over time, not an antidote, but a lifestyle. Something that has immediate and long range return, if you’re interested in consistent dividends/practice and realistic yet intentional results.
He called it his safe place, and this man is 6’4” and a former marine. What he meant by safe was “untouchable.” He’s out of reach when he’s down there he said. That sounds terrible to me, like drowning. But knowing him, he’s probably right.
I’ve tried sitting alone, sitting in silence and listening to relaxing music. My genre is anything with “spa” in the search terms.
I have no idea which I prefer. I remember to breath. Most of the time. If I make it the full 20mins I morph into my own personal hero.
All I had this morning to focus on was, “let the love win,” and “stay in your heart place.”
By this evening we had graduated to “Let the love win,” and “Gratitude.”
Just that. Back and forth between those two, me sighing and trying to focus while the dog whimpered because I was ignoring her and I tried to ignore myself ignoring myself. I’m an introvert by nature anyway so I’m not sure maybe that is part of my struggle. I spend so much time alone already. By design.
I did note this- after a few times the meditation created a space inside I was able to return to easier the next time around. It seemed productive. I don’t mind props. Props need a stage I suppose. I am building my stage. It’s like second life for the soul. So far my stage is a little dusty and kinda bare. There’s lots of work to do.
Lots of opportunity to change what I see.
One Charlie ...
two Charlie ...
I'm reading a book right now that is inspirational in its fearless approach to personal truth. I'll tweet a link later. I selected to post this blog in part because the content is unapologetically female. As the resistance continues I'm not out in the streets, but I am out more online, and determined to be my authentic self. My intent with blogging more is to provide something of value. Hopefully if you read my blog regularly you'll be able to experience a feeling of satisfaction more regularly. At the very least I hope you're entertained. I hope my writing doesn't suck and I strike the balance between the optimal amount of exposure and too much of a good things. Less is more because you already have everything you need. If the wizard of Oz went kinky I'd be Glenda - intent on showing Dorothy she had it all along.
and that's the intro. I wrote the following yesterday. Right now I'm sitting in the salon having my undercut painted Fuscia and practicing blogging w the cloud. I haven't left the house in two days. Feels good to be out again, for a bit.
TICKING CLOCKS
The sun is warm on my back as I write this. The stars said sit down. All the way down. I'm seeking a sitting position that won’t break my wrists. They’re starting to give me problems from all this blogging. The boys been telling me for years to dictate. I had scrambled eggs for breakfast. I think too much.
Ticking clocks.
When I was 27 it was a pink florescent signing hangin in a cheap hotel window. It blinked. It said one word in slanted cursive script - “BABY...BABY...BABY…”
The base of the head, where it meets the neck. That’s where this sign sat. At the spot where the lizard brain remains. It was like a ticking clock, a constant reminder that my body wanted a baby. Posted up on the most primal part of me. But my head knew better. Some nights my body won. We all lost.
Now the clock is different. This time it works in my favor. When you’ve done the work of becoming yourself that one thing remains - try again. Oh I’ve tried. It was just never the time the person or the place I guess. Well it’s none of those things right now either, but for once I care about my circunstances more, because biology trumps all. You can't argue with science or you will loose. That's why it's called science. Ticking clock.
I have years to become a mother, but only a few more if I want to give birth. I have no idea about the weights of that scale I just know it took this long for me to even think about it. Because...love.
My Dad would have called it “hippy dippy” shit. What I call love. I turned some corner in the past year, I did it through some conventional and some unconventional methods and it didn't happen all at once it took forever. This isn’t a big deal except to say that for the rest of my life I want to be about the love. I want to experience as much and as many types of love as one possibly can. Kinky love, vanilla love, plutonic love, poly love, monogamous love, community love, tribal love, family love, love for the earth. I hear that loving your child is at the top of this infinite list. So I want that love too because I've learned love isn't perfect but I'd rather live with it than without it.
This is how I fight the resistance. But by love. Instead of pushing away those who are different, I draw them closer to me because we are all in this together.
I don’t have any idea what you kids want in return for this blog, because you give me zero feedback. I started checking my analytics. I see you. Use your voice. What do you want to know? About yourself, of course. What’s your fantasy? I can show you how to make it happen.
Post your questions here. Or email dominavontana@gmail.com
Let the love win. #13Mantras
Set the stage for anal.
Over NYE w @LivingSexyDC I taught two seminars. During the second seminar, which was more vanilla than kink if you had to draw a line, I mentioned my best rec for anal - place and time.
You’re lover is not a porn star. She ain’t getting paid. It takes a whole day for a Goddess just to pull off a vanilla date. Anal is EXTRA. And we all have our extra. What does Dan Savage say? Good giving and game. Be that. So here’s how you make it happen - set the stage.
A woman who know’s what she’s doing, and face it, that’s the kind of woman a submissive man wants, will require an entire other bag of goodies just to be able to maintain. Women receiving anal have a whole other host of details to manage.
And for both men and women anal is different than vaginal sex because:
Different lubes work better, typically silicone is preferred for anal because it last for a long time. But it gets everywhere. Why? Because it last forever. You have to figure out what’s right for you.
It’s (sometimes) dirty. It’s nothing a parent who’s changed a diaper can’t handle, let’s be real. But if you want it that bad, either the giving or the receiving or both, you have to pay the price to ride. This may be the price. It just as likely that things will be just fine. Either way bring wipes and if you can rent a room. Have a shower RIGHT there and use it, often. Bring robes. OMG always a robe at the hotel. And a night gown that doubles as a dress so you can make ice runs in a cute pair of slippers because #hydration.
It takes time. Don’t go jamming it in there. I don’t care what they say, no one you’re going to play with is going to want you to just jam it up there. That’s a pro move and a lot like the show Jackass, don’t try this at home ok? Don’t be stupid. Take it slow. If you’re that damn excited gentlemen, wear a cock ring. It will make your dick stiffer and that’s kinda required especially for anal because it’s kinda tight, right? It will also help you relax.
If you want to use toys use condoms on them or throw them away once you're done. If you want to reuse your anal toys get silicone or stainless steel. The materials are body safe, and easy to sanitize. Throw the steel in boiling water for ten minutes. Don’t use it, idiot. Let it cool. Put it in the freezer for thermal play later. Whatever. Don’t burn yourself. And the silicone can go in the dishwasher apparently? I don’t make this shit up. I’ve done it. A few times. At someone else’s place.
Still use condoms. Always use condoms. You’ll thank me later. Just sayin…
And oh fuck yea- one more thing. Really important. Don’t douche. Don’t douche it. That’s a mess takes hours to wrap it up completely. It’s literally like fucking swamp ass. Men should shave. Women do what you want, and he’ll love it.
Disclaimer: These are my personal opinions. If you decide to actually try some of this that's your choice. And I applaud you for giving it a try. In the past, what I have recommended has often worked out for people. At least those that choose to get back to me. And based on that decade of layperson's teaching and research, I think I have something to say.
Ok so I started the Vday with my first ever instagram video. Wth. This is all new to me.
Let’s be honest, I barely have the time to show you what’s going on and to make what’s going on go on. All at the same time. It’s rediculous. Who does this? I did it. Because #valentinesday
One of my mantras is let the love win. And that’s what this holiday is all about. That and kink, apparently, these days.
This year I honestly felt like having a kinky play date was the most vanilla thing I’ve ever done on this hallmark holiday. It feels like everyone is going to kink out this valentine’s thanks to yet another 50 Shades movie. My life is a live action cliche reflected back at me from the media. But this is not a mirror and ethical players have a lot problems with the images being projected onto us. Kinky isn’t cool anymore. It’s crazy. At this point 50Shades is just a thriller with some kinky sex thrown in.
Kink is dead. Like the phoenix, we’ll rise. The feminist movement has been in it’s third wave for well over a decade. Kinksters are experiencing the arrival of the second generation of players, a second wave of hobbiest, life stylers and full timers who are more likely than ever to also identify as queer, POC, transgendered, or sex worker because WE ARE ALL SEXUAL MINORITIES.
Kink is dead. It’s mainstream now, in a terrible kind of way that is part turn on but zero part tutorial. These stories are purely fiction, the work of the author’s mind, not her life. Whether it’s a novel, a character on on television show (usually some detective bit) or an entire movie it’s FICTION.
Yet, It’s not enough to read about it, you want to do it.
The two questions I always get asked about 50 Shades is “ok now what” and “why did this turn me on so much.” Maybe you find yourself somewhere on that spectrum. Well the doing of it looks much like life as you know it now but with more gear and a little less free time. For some it’s a hobby. For others it’s a way of life. Most of us are somewhere in the middle. It’s not the kind of thing you can turn back from. It requires it’s own coming out story. Being out about being kinky is good for ratings but a huge risk for actual kinksters. I’ve met players who feel they have lost jobs, homes and children because they were vulnerable enough to be honest with coworkers, landlords and family.
I struggle with it everyday. A part of me want’s so badly to be ‘normal’ but the closest I can come to that is surrounding myself with bad ass vanilla women. Because anywhere else? It just doesn’t make sense. I think I’m doing just fine and the next moment I’ve crossed some imaginary line. That just doesn’t suit my disposition. I like a party, not drama. But I made the choice to be out when I was young. At the time it was the best way to disarm the enemy. Many of whom were members of my own community #friendlyfire
But this is about letting the love win. So let me tell you about my favorite part about the sexy NYE event we do each year - watching regular people fuck. And by regular I mean yes you’re camp of gym bunnies and their walking cocks (so hot) but mostly just normal people who are thoughtful about their appearance and horny/proud/confident enough to walk around naked with a bunch of strangers. It’s so much better than any porno I’ve ever watched. Because it’s actually real, real.
Phew, yea. It’s that good. I don’t participate, hello control freak, but I love to watch. Mostly I like to listen. The dungeon is always in its own room, naturally, so I don’t see a lot of it. I just listen. And honestly even in the dungeon it’s so damn crowded after a few good scenes I’m just basically a glorified dungeon monitor the rest of the night. And glorious it is. Every year.
So my new glasses arrived. It’s a whole new world. It’s dirty and I need to pick up some eye cream. And maybe a silk pillowcase and an eye mask because fuck this. I do steam baths every night with essential oils because I think the number one contributor to aging is drying. This is true within and without. Meaning I should drink A LOT more water than I do.
Curious about ballbusting?
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Quick Announcement! Mistress is traveling to North Carolina next month to teach a sexy seminar just in time for Valentine's. Ticket's will be available for purchase on my website starting early next week.
Date: Feb 9
Time: 6-8
Cost: $10
Location: Chapel Hill, NC
Like all my classes, this seminar is lecture style with loads of QnA from the class. We always have a great time and audience participation is encouraged. The presentation is theory, the practice is what you do later.
Discussion is guided by the student's interest. All participants are welcome and encouraged to complete the online survey prior to the event so Mistress can make sure your question is answered.
This is a great event for a girl's night out or make it an early Valentine's day gift for your sweetie. We will discuss the foundations of pleasure, the essence of living the Goddess life, and the basics of BDSM.
Hope to see you there!
Hey kids! Domina here. It's been just about two weeks since another fantastic #LivingSexy event and I wanted to put up a quick post to let you all know I am thinking about you and still reveling in the sensual memory of it all. It was my fifth NYE with www.sinn-ergy.com and my 7th??? event with them...and honestly, I think it was the sexiest event yet. The couples that attend are so open, flirty, sexy and funfunfun! I loved meeting everyone at our two seminars, discussing the ABCs of BDSM and the best tips for oral. Class participation is one of my favorite parts of teaching and trust me when I say this class really participates! It's one of the few places I teach a class about 'blowjobs' where men and women share the space. It makes for some very interesting dynamics for sure. When I brought this up a male attendee was compelled to ask, "What would you say to the women if we were not present." Good question. I took a few steps back, but my head down, rested my hand on my chin then it came to me in a flash (there's a lot of good info up there folks) and I said, "I would tell them to make sure your man knows you WANT to do what you're doing."
We all know (I hope) the discrimination and sexual shaming that women experience from a very young age. But men are fed similar lies, often around the shaming women receive, and the result is a verty unsatisfying mixed bag of bullshit that prevents pleasure and stymies connection. So therefore, yea, a lot of men are taught women don't like to give oral. And if you're a women who is already nervous about pleasing your male partner, trying to please someone who thinks you're not enjoying it makes it hard to give, because he's not able to receive. So yea, ladies, grab that cock like you mean it and let him have it lol
Wow, this quick up date has turned into another lesson on blowjobs, but that's always the most popular class because why? well, among other things - basics, basics, basics. fundamentals, fundamentals, fundamentals. In life, in art and definitely in love.
Speaking of love, if you follow me at www.twitter.com/dominavontana then you know that slavee paid Mistress a surprise visit this week, appearing out of the darkness like some mysterious dream figure. But it was him, not a ghost. MIA since exiting rehab a week prior and still, thank the Goddesses, stone sober. Living with a loved one who lives with addiction or mental health struggles is a part of my GD daily life. It is my ownership of him that gives me the courage and strength we need everyday to push through, and the faith and hope to believe that healing is possible and we WILL make it together. Between that dream and reality lies a minefield of bureaucratic and family bullshit. But I'm a warrior goddess and I fight for love, my love, my slave. I know he wears my collar and technically I own him but my love and my energy belong to him and his needs because he's just that god damn special. If you ever meet him, you'll know what I mean the moment you see us standing next to one another, because I've heard it so many times from casual observers. What we share is special and has been in the works for nearly a decade. It is the real thing, #kinkylove. Without that "kink" part we would have no "love". I don't know how vanilla families living with similar struggles do it, I just know that I'm grateful I love him the way I do so I have the dedication necessary to draw the boundaries he needs, enforce them as best we can and continue the up hill battle to find proper medical care in a system that is overwhelming, inadequate and expensive. If you know someone who lives with the disease of addiction or is a survivor you are the reason I speak out. Because so often the families suffer right along with the loved one, but all resources are dedicated to the one in recovery. Often I feel forgotten by the available healthcare even though I'm the person closest to him. So if you're in a similar position, I don't want you to feel forgotten. I want you to know I'm there with you, battling and building one day at a time for a better future for our loved ones and our families.
Shit, another layer revealed. I've hinted before about our lives, but really 2017 is about getting real. I'm done hiding. If you love, love all. There is no other way.
And book. yes BOOK. it's happening. the proposal, the drafts, the read through with amazing friends. I can't WAIT to launch this chapter in our lives. I love you all. Goddess I do! thank you for all the support and memories we've shared over the years. Mistress looks forward to many more. Hugs.
CONTACT/FOLLOW-UP Mistress is always available to answer questions for Sinn-ergy members. My email is dominavontana@gmail.com or follow me on Twitter @dominavontana or on Instagram domina_vontanadc.
SHOUT OUT Thank you so much for joining us for NYE with at Sinn-ery, A Red Carpet Affair. This is my fifth year at this event. It has been a great source of professional growth and personal pleasure. I look forward to returning every year and want to thank the organizers and their amazing team of dedicated fantasy creators that make this event a reality.
THE ABCs of BDSM
The intention of the ABCs OF BDSM is to equip you to successfully negotiate your first scene. In order to get what you want you must know how to ask for what you want. BDSM is an 'umbrella term' so it includes many different styles and types of activities under one acronym but it is not inclusive. In general, the language used in BDSM would be considered taboo, strong or offensive in most vanilla setting so it's important to remember this when first encountering the highly specialized use of language in BDSM.
B - bondage, bottom
D - Dominant, Dominatrix, dominance, discipline
S - Sadist, submissive, slave, switch, sadomasochist
M - Master, Mistress, masochist
Power Exchange – the type of play where the giver accepts responsibility for the receiver and as a result the giver acquires the receiving player’s power and the receiver is able to experience a feeling of powerlessness
Top – a giver in the type of scene that involves play but not power exchange
Scene - the kinky event, where to or more people come together to play
Play - the exchange between two players
Players - two or more people who share a scene
NEGOTIATING THE SCENE
“You will not get what you deserve, you will get what you negotiate” – unknown
“You learn more about a person in an hour of play, than in a year of conversation” – Plato ??
All players involved should give consent*. The * in consent if for ENTHUSIASTIC. All players involved should give ENTHUSIASTIC consent. This includes Tops and Dominants.
A negotiation can last a few minutes or a few months depending on the situation, location of the players, availability of play spaces and the complexities of the desired scene.
Anticipation is an important and satisfying part of the negotiation process. The negotiation process, whether in person or online or both, is intended to give both players the opportunity to share information like safewords, hard limits, previous experience and desired outcome.
MORE KINKY DEFINITIONS
Safeword – a predetermined word or phrase that may be spoken by the player to stop the play or take a break to discuss the direction the scene is going
Vanilla – any type of sexual activity that is NOT considered alternative, the kind of sex that everyone likes, because everyone likes vanilla ice cream
Slut – a word used to describe someone who really enjoys an activity, ie bondage slut
Goddess – a female or female identified player who enjoys worship, the sensual arts and service
Domina – a word used interchangeably with Mistress or Dominatrix, historically Domina was a title awarded to a woman of common background who through her own efforts acquired land and an education
Ritual and Protocol – structured performances and procudures guided by the Dominant’s wishes and preferences that are intended to bond players through clear expectations and repetition
TYPES OF PLAY
Service – domestic duties, ritual, and body worship
Sensation – candles, electric, fur, fire, needles, leather, latex, deprivation
Sensual – typically a softer, often more romantic style of play that foregoes pain as part of the scene, a type of sensation play
Objectification – when the giver in a scene strips the receiver of their humanity and regards them as an object or animal rather than a human being
Impact – spanking, flogging
Cathartic – a scene where the receiver experiences an endorphin dump that results in an altered state of mind often resulting in the ability to release stubborn emotions
Direct sexual – a scene or exchange that includes direct sexual contact such as anal, oral or vaginal penetration
Ok Kids, new week, new blog.
I’ve been kicking it in the Carolina’s because the weather has been puuurrrfect, but now it’s time to head home.
In case you’ve been wondering what’s up with my new project, the next set of mantras is forthcoming, in the final stages. My only hiccup has been locating reliable filming equipment. I believe there is a public access program somewhere with enough chops to support this project. And hail to them when this hits.
But the manuscript is done and ready to go and drumroll please…the next two mantras (a couple of my favorites) aaare…Negotiation and Adventure…let me break it down for you…
Negotiation is what comes first, before the play. Negotiation can be as simple as you like but I prefer a lengthy negotiation because I love to watch a submissive squirm. So your mantra for November is:
“You learn more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation.” Will go more in depth with this with the manuscript later this month and vids that will only be available on my exclusive site. Some give credit to Plato for this quote, you can search Goggle and decide for yourself. I'm rolling with it because it's hopefully not the first time any of us have heard this little ditty, but it certainly won't be the last. And I love to play! so Mistress is excited to share this mantra with you next because the better the negotiation the better the play.
The mantra for December is: Adventure Mode! This is the only mantra that gets double capitalization and an exclamation point because it is after all – Adventure Mode! And for December I will be taking you with me to Mexico (because I will have located a damn camera by then) and I will be there along with my Mother, or as she likes to call herself “Mommee Dommee, aka Mom of the Dom.” If there’s any question you’ve ever had about me, meeting my mother in Mexico will surely answer some of them. She has no idea it’s coming by the way. I’m gonna spring it on her guerilla-art-style because the last thing you want to do is give my Mom a chance to think about anything that makes her anxious. That’s a nono. Plus I know she'll love it.
In addition to copies of my never before seen manuscript, informative videos and bonus content, I'll also be taking your questions! By the end of the year I will have a complete package available for the first three mantras - October (first times a dry run), November (you learn more in an hour of play than a year of conversation) and December (Adventure Mode!), along with a way to submit your question.
Until the end of the year every subscriber gets one free question up to 1,000 questions. That may sound like a lot but Mistress loves answering your questions! Again, this is about you and opening up your journey into greater self-discovery and satisfaction.
The project is off to a great start and behind the scenes I’m hitting my groove with all this nonsense and will have items available to you the week before Thanksgiving. Because the week after thanks giving we’re off to Mexico! And we come back in December to discuss adventure mode and host the 7th annual @LivingSexy #NYE party. Mistress will be in attendance all weekend. Get your tickets, here www.sinn-ergy.co
