All ‘femdom relationships’ category posts

posted by on femdom relationships, musing, random memories, tom

It had never occurred to me that I might be someone’s ‘relationship from hell’.

I have spoken about my own at times: in my mid-twenties, a relationship with a man who would not give an inch of ground on anything ever and into which I threw a level of rage I’d not have thought I had in me. A relationship that felt like a war zone into which I ran every day with guns blazing, wearing a deep and abiding unhappiness under my clothes, and wondering why I didn’t leave already.

It feels, almost, like a rite of passage, at least one relationship that you look back on with a kind of horror, painting it in a dull matt black when in truth there were always flashes of colour and light in it.

When you are young and searching for a match, you necessarily make mistakes. Those mistakes are how you learn what doesn’t work for you. And after you learn from them, you do something slightly differently next time, and in that slow slog, you do the painful work to figure out what you DO want from all of the times you run up against what you don’t.

And while I acknowledge out loud that I was (and am) a selfish person, I think in my younger years, I was also capable of a terrifying lack of care. Or perhaps it was a lack of empathy. Something I can’t quite articulate, but it was a combination that held the potential for a kind of cold indifference.

And yet, even knowing that, it still somehow had never occurred to me that I might well be someone’s ‘relationship from hell’. That someone might look back on their time with me and shudder, tell the story of the woman who brought out the worst in them, wonder why they stayed for so long, remembering me as the harshest lesson they ever learnt.

On that note, last week I heard from the first submissive with whom I had a serious D/s relationship. It had apparently been 15 years and 2 days since our last contact, 18 years since we were together. A lifetime ago. His second note spoke of hurt, a matter of factual history, and suddenly and for the first time I wondered if I was his ‘relationship from hell': an unhappy and cruel lesson learnt. It was a terrifying thought and I started picking at the edges of my memory to determine if it might be true.

Which got me thinking about other relationships and brought me to the sudden and awful revelation that perhaps in one of THOSE, I was the ‘relationship from hell’. It sent me spinning down this road, trying to dissect the bodies of relationships long past, pulling the insides out to see if I had left something awful in my wake.

I like to think not, of course. I like to think of myself as someone who brought a blinding flash of hot-awesome-happiness into the lives of people I have been close to, even if they were short-lived and ultimately superficial. If I’m honest, my ego wants some of them never to be quite as crazily happy as that ever again (I mentioned ‘selfish’, right?). I also like to think of myself as someone who would see hell if it was right in front of my face, but I have to acknowledge that when we are IN something, we often don’t see it clearly. Mostly we do the best that we can to deal and manage and navigate it, and of course we are all flawed in that.

But it seems unlikely now that it’s on my mind that I wasn’t someone’s idea of hell. That there isn’t someone who looks back and wonders at how horribly unhappy they were, incredulous that they stayed so long with me. I prefer to think that if it’s there, it’s a one-off, perhaps reciprocal with the man who was MY hell. It doesn’t seem far-fetched to think that I was his also.

A few emails later with the sweet boy who was my first, and it seems I wasn’t his relationship from hell, though I suspect that after it ended the hurt made it seem like I was for a time. My relief at that was palpable: Not just because it would be such an awful thing, but also because I wasn’t sure how to own my part in it if it was true, and I was well aware that it was mine to own. The very fact that I thought it might be possible says some things about me of which I’m not proud.

Either way, I’m so very glad.

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posted by on femdom relationships, happy femdom

A few months ago I got a really lovely email from a reader and he mentioned that he had been inspired by the happy femdom stories that people have shared here.

He said that he wasn’t sure if his story would fit because he and his wife started their life together as a vanilla couple and their D/s relationship evolved from there. Well of COURSE it fits (we have had two others with similar stories)!

It’s a wonderful story that is still unfolding. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Author: greg

Following our path

When I reached puberty, the fantasies I mostly had involved being seduced or captured by women who then did various things to me, controlling me in some fashion. I didn’t know anything about kinks, BDSM, or D/s at that point, barely knew what sex was about. And there were no resources available to me at that time; no internet, no personal computers, nothing except magazines and books, none which did more than lightly suggest anything on this topic.

As I got older, occasionally I would come across a magazine that included kinky things, and I was always deeply drawn to the topic of women in control. But it was just wank fodder, as far as I could tell, I never even thought about sharing that with anyone.

So my dating and developing relationships did not involve that aspect at all. It was not part of searching for a partner, merely something that was fun to fantasize about when masturbating. And I gradually tried some self bondage and other things as my fantasies inspired me.

Eventually, I found someone that seemed a wonderful fit for me and we got married. And as with all couples, we had lots to get used to about each other.

As we explored sex to see what we both liked, my strong desire to feel submissive came out at times. Occasionally I would spice things up and suggest trying something like tying me up to see how that worked for us both. And we would discuss how these spicy additions, or supplements, worked for us. For the most part, while she was willing to try them, she was not turned on by them, and would have been fine dropping them if left to her own devices. But as we explored she found that my reactions to what she did was turning her on. And she found that she enjoyed eliciting these reactions from me. I, on the other hand found them compelling and wanted to experience more. So I kept suggesting new things to try, sometimes obtaining new things to use such as dog collars to use as wrist and ankle cuffs.

As we slowly explored and gained more experience, the internet and other resources started to come on-line. This allowed me to better understand my desires and realize that I was not alone. And find new things to try, of course. One day, while searching the internet, I came upon chastity devices for men, the CB2000 specifically. This really captivated my mind and I could not stop reading for an hour or so. I was compelled to obtain one and began wearing it, trying to engage my wife in this, to me, very hot idea.

True to form, she did not find it compelling, but worked with me sometimes and enjoyed my reaction to some extent. After 6 months of so of trying this out, I came to an epiphany while she was out of town. I realized that a device was not needed (yes, I can be slow at times) and that what really turned me on was giving her control over my pleasure.

Have you ever had your mind racing so much you could not sleep as you kept turning a critical decision over and over in your mind? That was me until she returned from the trip.

As soon as she returned, I hesitatingly brought this new idea up and promised her that I would never play with myself again, unless she gave me explicit instructions to do so. She paused, pondering what I had just promised, and then said that was a long time to commit to. I quickly agreed, with some relief actually, and suggested maybe a trial run for 6 months would be smarter.

Immediately she responded, saying, “Too late, you already promised,” with a smile on her face. My heart melted at those words and it was like giving her my marriage vows all over again.

For me that was the moment that I realized I wanted to submit and have a D/s dynamic in our relationship. True, at this point it was all focused on sex. But this crystallized for me that what I really wanted was to be submissive. And I realized that the tools were not what was important.

Ropes, whips, chastity devices, etc were just the tools. What I craved and needed was to submit and be under a woman’s control. Not just as something to spice up our sex life, not just an occasional scene to do, but instead for it to be a real and permanent part of our relationship.

As time went on, we explored what this new arrangement meant and how it worked. Not so easy while raising kids and having busy lives, but slowly we progressed. My wife really enjoyed her ability to control my sexual responses, and I found that this feeling of being controlled or submitting was really important to me.

As I read more and discussed more about this with my wife and others on line, I gradually came to understand that my need to submit and be controlled was a core element of my sexuality, not just wank fodder. I wanted to feel this aspect more intensely. So we experimented, as she felt intrigued with various ideas I would gently suggest that turned me on.

This past spring/summer, a number of things seemed to come together for me and pushed me to a new level of submission. Over the last few years, we had explored confining me by chaining me to the toilet or laundry room sink. This was very compelling to me, but there was no reason to do it other than to arouse me, so we rarely did it. Independent of this, I had been sorting out how to better manage our occasional disagreements, and realized that I had trouble being analytical (my go-to strategy in that situation) when she was letting her emotions play out, which she needed to do. I recognized that when we paused and I could be introspective, we could resolve things a lot better later, after re-engaging. Finally, I happened upon Ferns blog and most of the things Ferns said not only resonated strongly with me, but in fact crystallized my thoughts.

First, I realized a powerful tool that could be used in disagreements would be for her to give me a time out, as it allowed her emotions to play out and forced a separation that helped me, and changed the power dynamic. This was the first time I internally realized I wanted control in more areas of my life than sex. Of course, the thing that allows this to be carried out is partly the sexual turn on, but the desire for her to be able to control the disagreement process was strikingly strong in me.

I realized that I wanted her to be confident that I would do as she said, that she could have the feeling that she was could tell me to do anything and I would do it. And if not, then we had some work to do to sort out why I did not obey her, and how to fix that so I will do better in the future. Ferns ability to conceptualize what makes this dynamic work and how to keep it going were particularly important for me, with her posts on a vulnerability, making D/s work, and punishment resonating strongly.

We are just beginning this phase of our relationship. And, while we do not know where we will end up, I have always looked at life as a journey. Where my destination is not clear, but the journey is what is important, not the destination. I hope everyone can enjoy the journey as much as we have!

___

This post is part of an ongoing project to share happy, positive femdom relationship stories.  If you have a story and are willing to share it, please email it to me (ferns AT domme-chronicles DOT com).

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Come whisper in my ear...

Hello Ma’am

Nov
2013
12

posted by on femdom relationships, musing, my boy, snowflake

SGC of the wonderful Submissive Guy Comics tumblr recently posted this really sad comic.

He knew things were really ending when she used her real name to sign off email.

He knew things were really ending when she used her real name to sign off email.

When I saw it, it brought back a rush of memories. My memories are usually packed away and mostly inaccessible without concerted effort, but they are sitting close to the surface for me at the moment because of my anniversary post. When I was thinking about what to write, I looked back on old posts and personal writings to find something that seemed a fitting topic, so quite a few things that are normally hidden away are floating right there in my peripheral vision.

When I am in a relationship, I have my submissive call me ‘Ma’am’. It seems a little odd at first, but it soon becomes a habit, a sweetness, a petting. In day to day life, really, we don’t use people’s names so much, so it’s not something that causes a problem in public, and it’s something that signals so much between us. His saying ‘Hello Ma’am’ and ‘Yes, Ma’am’ becomes ‘normal’ for us, and each time I hear it, I *feel* it. It hums between us like something tangible.

When snowflake and I broke up, it was not simple, as these things often aren’t. We were talking, trying to sort things out. Without going into all the detail of what happened, one thing sticks out clearly for me: The moment that he logged into IM in the morning as he always did and then this appeared on my screen:

“Hello MyFirstName

The impact of it was immediate and terrible: A huge thump right into my solar plexus, a terrible sinking horribleness, a dread… all of those things.

The power of it was shocking. It signalled the end more clearly than anything we had said to each other up to that point.

By contrast, my boy continued to address me as ‘Ma’am’ even after we broke up, and even when he wrote me the email confirming that it was truly over he started it with “Hello Ma’am”. I knew, really, that I should tell him to stop doing it, and he would have, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask that of him, and I gleaned some small comfort from the fact that he continued to address me that way.

Words have power, and it still sometimes surprises me just how much.

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Because I’m happy

Nov
2013
01

posted by on femdom relationships, my boy, random memories

It was a weekend, I took him out for lunch to a pub that sits on a point overlooking the bay. A beautiful spot on a hill, the islands in the distance.

It was warm, sunny.

He got us drinks, ordered the food, and came back to me.

We were sitting side by side in chairs on the lawn looking out over the water, talking softly and laughing about nothing in particular. I had one leg draped over his, his hand rested on my thigh.

I grabbed his head and pulled it to me and bit it, not his ear, his head. Because. Just because. It made us both laugh and he shook like a dog afterwards.

He said he wished that he could take this moment right now and write it down exactly how it was, to capture and keep it. He touched parts of me that he wanted to describe in detail to preserve them. My bare arm with light coloured hairs catching some sun, my knee curved over him, the weight of my leg against his thigh, my foot swinging gently, me smiling at him, us laughing together. All the corny things.

I asked him, “Why this moment?”

And he said, “Because I’m happy.”

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Conflict

Sep
2013
29

posted by on femdom relationships, kissing, play

You look at me, both guilty and defiant.

I hold your gaze. I wait.

You are hurt and angry. You lift your chin. I know that look. You are considering your options. They are running through your mind like quicksilver, fast and light and slippery.

I don’t look away. I just wait while you run through the possible reactions in your head.

Your breathing is shallow while you fight for composure.

I can feel your flight response just below the surface. Your muscles tensing, ready to turn away from me and stride out of the room. I don’t have to look at your hands to know that they are balled up in fists against your thighs. The fingers clenching and unclenching, your short nails digging into your palms. I can see the same conflict in your face, the outline of your jaw coming into sharp relief as your teeth grind together and release over and again.

I watch your conflicted thoughts reflect across your expressive face. They are as clear to me as neon signs.

I wait for you to decide. It feels like we have been locked in this silence forever.

Finally you take a deep breath, your body relaxes, you dip your head, lower your eyes. They come to rest somewhere around my waist.

“Yes, Ma’am,” you say finally.

It is a quiet response, hard won, and I would normally ask you to repeat it a little louder, but this time I let the whisper go. I know this has not been easy for you.

I reach up, and with a gentle finger under your chin, I lift your face so that you can look at me. Your face rises under the instruction, but you can’t meet my gaze. Not yet. You are ashamed, still a little angry, still hurt.

I cup your face with one hand, my palm along your jaw, feeling the remaining tension there. My thumb caresses your cheek, my fingers curl strong against your neck. You lean your face into my hand, seeking reassurance. I give you everything in that caress. All the ‘It’s okay, sweetheart’s, the ‘You did well’s, the ‘I’m so proud of you’s, all the melty sweetness flows through my fingertips into you.

“Good boy,” I say.

You raise your eyes to mine, manage a weak smile. I tilt my head at you, a half-smile back.

I lean up to touch my lips gently to yours.

You reach for me like a parched man suddenly finding water. Pull me tight up against you quickly, suddenly, strong arms wrapping around me, fitting me into the hardness of your body like we always fit. You open your mouth to me, I instinctively enter, feel your fingers slide into my hair, I hold your head in the crook of my arm and we make reparations, desperately and greedily finding each other again.

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Sleeping together

Aug
2013
24

posted by on about me, femdom relationships, musing

I don’t sleep well with another in my bed. I don’t sleep well at all for the most part. This tenuous relationship with sleep makes it precious, sacrosanct. There are few things more irritating than having my sleep interfered with.

I need to feel very comfortable with someone to want them in my bed, and if I don’t have that level of comfort, I don’t share well. I will lie there restless, unable to relax, hyper-aware that they are *just there*.

I let bambi fall asleep in my bed one night when he was here. We had played for some time and then snuggled into bed together in the aftermath. He fell asleep quickly, easily.

Me, I was lying there, restless, acutely aware of another body taking up space. Space that I didn’t need. Not *my* space. Just… space.

I tried, I did.

And some time in the early hours, I woke him up.

“I can’t sleep, you have to go into the other room…” I whispered.

His eyes half closed, he took a moment to register what I was saying. He didn’t protest, or question. He nodded and blearily got up.

I went with him, to put him to bed in the spare room. I missed him from my bed as soon as he left, but I needed him out.

I tucked him in, petted and cuddled with him for a short while. His slow heavy sleep-breathing returned quickly. Then I tiptoed back into my empty room, into my empty bed, and slept… bliss.

For all of that, the idea that my boy and I would not share a bed as the default doesn’t work for me. It makes me feel sad. I don’t want him out of my reach like that.

I want to know that I can fling an arm over and feel him there. There he is, even in sleep, waiting for me.

I like to touch him randomly, snaking fingertips into the space between us towards him until I feel warm flesh. The curve of a hip, the hairs on an arm, the vulnerability of his neck, the shape of his cock.

I enjoy petting him, not even really awake, feeling the texture of his skin under my fingertips. The softness of his rounded arse, that smooth skin behind his ear, his soft relaxed lips.

I need to know that if I roll over, I can fit my body against his and he will shift a little to make me comfortable, murmur unintelligible sounds at me, and push his skin against me for sweetness.

And if I want kissing, well, I want kissing right here right now!

I want all of those possibilities to be available to me, it just takes me some time to get comfortable enough to allow it.

Later on in bambi’s visit, he again fell asleep in my bed, this time still tied to the bedpost by his wrist. I didn’t have the heart to disturb him, so I let him sleep there (on *my* side, no less… see how lovely I am?!) while I went and did other things.

When I went to bed some time later, he was still out. I considered waking him to have him move to the other bedroom, but he looked so adorable, I couldn’t bear to do it. I slipped in beside him and actually managed to fall asleep without too much trouble. I was more comfortable with him by then, and maybe, I don’t know, but maybe, him being tied down made a difference somehow.

More testing required. You know, for science.

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posted by on dating, femdom relationships

You know what I liked about that movie? It gave us a short, easy phrase to explain this oh-so-simple concept.

And it really *is* simple.

Let me preface this with ‘in my experience’…

Men who are interested in you will move heaven and earth to be with you. They will.

They will be thinking about you as they go about their day, they will make you a priority, they will consider your feelings, they will work to make you happy, they will be clear if they are unavoidably busy for a while, even then they will still make time to be sweet to you because they miss you, they will pay attention to your moods and react accordingly, you will be top-of-mind for them.

Place a submissive mindset over the top and it amplifies *all of that*.

You can twist it any way you want and the closest second option if you are confused about his interest is “He’s not into you in a way that works for you”. The end result is the same.

There’s no such thing as ‘not enough time’, there are only priorities. And while life happens and you can’t *always* be the first priority, if you are NEVER the first priority, then yeah, have a think about that.

In short: If he really wants you, you will know it.

This PSA brought to you by the question, “He’s really great/nice/wonderful/sweet and he says he likes me, but he never has time for me/never initiates contact/disappears without a word/missed a date because he fell asleep/does some other things that make me question his interest, what should I do?”

DTMFA.

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