Weekend date

I was right about him.

I was right to contact him in the first place. I was right to listen when he addressed my concerns about his situation. I was right to invite him to visit.

He is completely lovely.

I picked him up from the airport Friday night, his face lit up when he recognised me from my photos which is always a lovely thing (it is such a difficult thing for me, trying to identify people from photos, and I am always scanning every face as they come off the plane: Anxiously going ‘is that him? is that him?’ as if I have some affliction in face recognition). He is slightly shorter than me, has a sunshine smile, said he was nervous which is always adorable.

Greetings, a hug, a chaste hello kiss. I took him to my place. I got snacks together, he opened champagne.

And we talked. Wide ranging subjects. It was fun, engaging. We are well aligned in so many ways and conversation flowed well and naturally segued from one topic to another.

At some point I leaned in to kiss him, sitting together there on the couch: hot and exploratory. He responded beautifully, almost shyly. He referred later to both ‘dominant’ and ‘sweet’ kisses. I know what he meant: I bite and push and growl and hold his face and shove his head around, and then do soft kitten kisses to see what he tastes like after I have assaulted him with my mouth. It blew his mind he said.

Time flew: Always a good sign. We guessed the time, perhaps midnight, 1am? No. It was already 3am. We were both surprised at the late hour. I sent him back to his hotel.

On Saturday he came over in the morning and learnt how to use Carl to make my coffee the way I like it, he also made me scrambled eggs, washed up. We ate on the deck, glimpses of the ocean. Me sluggish and cranky, him shiny and full of bounce.

Later we went for a bike ride, a swim in the surf. He gave my shoulders a massage when my neck was sore, rubbed moisturiser on my feet and legs with gentle care. Truth be told, I know he was really just looking for reasons to touch me, to get closer. That was good with me.

I asked him if he’d like to try some rope which we’d talked about previously. He did.

I have no skills, so it was slow and gentle as I followed online tutorials. He felt the erotic charge when I worked the rope from the front of his body, he reached for kisses that I mostly didn’t give him. I put him on his knees, had him lever all his weight back against the rope, trusting me to stop him from toppling backwards, using the rope at the front to pull him towards me and gently punching him in the chest to push him back. His face sweetly exasperated when I reached for and then pulled back from kisses, both of us laughing.

I showed him my suitcase of toys, my hanging garden of impact implements. He is a newbie and has had a relatively vanilla sex life: He was both curious and wide eyed. I let him feel some of the impact toys on his hand, just to see. Fun.

Somewhere in there we watched a movie. He sat naturally on the floor by the couch at my feet, it was not a performance, I didn’t ask for it, it just felt right.

Then a late dinner out at a local restaurant I’d not been to before, holding hands across the table. The food was delicious, more talking.

He stayed at mine the second night, again the time flew, we crashed around 1am, him in the other bedroom. No sex, no intense play, each of us just gently poking around to see how we fit.

Over our time together, I caught him looking at me like I was some strange exotic creature, as if he’d never seen a woman before, a kind of wonder, which was both amusing and flattering.

He was beautifully attentive all weekend. Not acting all subly subsub: I mean actively interested and engaged in doing what I wanted.

There is this thing that some men have where their submission is an expression of themselves in a context where they feel ‘seen’. I can’t quite articulate how it feels different from other flavours of submission except to say that there is no kink in it, no performance, it is part of how they relate.

It seems as if it should be common with submissive men, but it’s not. I see it in the men who genuinely want to learn what I like because it makes me happy, and that in turn makes them happy. Not ‘because submissive’, just ‘because’. It’s what my ‘vanilla submissive‘ partners looked and felt like. I know it when I see it. He has it.

I saw him off around lunch time on Sunday. Hugs and kisses at the airport.

From my side, he is exactly the kind of submissive who fits with me wrapped up in the package of a sweetheart of a man. Despite his lack of experience (or, perhaps because of it) his sincere desire to please is not linked to him getting off, there is no performance in it, no underlying transactional thinking. He was made happy by doing things for me, he paid attention, he wanted to do things right, he wanted to be pleasing. He was. On the vanilla side, he is super sweet, curious, communicative, open-hearted, emotionally brave. All the lovely things.

So where to now?

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e[lust] #100

Welcome to Elust 100

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #101 Start with the rules, come back December 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!


~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

He’s Out of My League

Pink Hair, Don’t Care!

I’m a feminist but…

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Pain Sluts and Brain Squirrels

His Car Keys

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~


*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

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A date, a sexy sexy* date

Y’all know how rare it is for me to have a date, so, yeah, it’s a pretty big deal.

I contacted him on a BDSM dating site about 6 weeks ago. His profile was scant, no photo, but for some reason I still liked it and sent him a cute note. He replied with enthusiastic sweetness.

There are a couple of things about him that fall outside what I would normally go for, but he quietly and insistently argued with me about the one that I considered a show stopper. He was convincing.

I was amused and impressed by his polite self-advocacy.
“You’re in sales, aren’t you?”
“I am :)”


He’s a sweetheart, a newbie, with some of those lovely innate submissive qualities that fit so well with me. He also has an optimistic enthusiasm that pushes up against my reserved caution and I really enjoy that.

He’s not local, but he is in-country, which is about as good as it gets for me.

He’s flying in this weekend for a two day first date.

I know he will be lovely, he’s one of the good ones. The big question is whether we can light a spark.

So we will see…

*I may be overstating the situation** with the ‘sexy sexy’, but sometimes you just gotta do it
**Definitely overstating the situation… :P

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Share Our Shit Saturday #1 #SOSS

Okay fine, it’s Sunday here, but I live in the future, so it’s still Saturday in many many places!

In case you missed it, this meme is a reaction to social media platforms silencing creators of adult content.

I’m going to be making a more concerted effort to share talented and interesting people’s work, and at times I’m going to step out of the F/m domain for it because the impact of making sex bloggers and writers invisible is wide.

So I’ll be #soss-ing all over the twitter and probably doing some cheaty ‘Share Our Shit SomeOtherDay’ posts here because I can’t be trusted with sticking to prescribed times.

For today, some fabulous blog posts you may have missed:

Fucking Myself on a Solitary Evening by Miss Pearl

Memory by Mrs Fever

You’re allowed to be shy by Stabbity

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Pornocalypse & Share Our Shit Saturday #SoSS

Social media platforms and financial institutions are notorious for being anti ANY type of sexual or adult content. It’s not just about censorship and hiding the content, but about stopping those dirty dirty sex people from making any money from it by closing down sources of income, promotional avenues, advertising spaces.

In some cases they have users flag their content as adult content. I have zero problem with this. It seems a sensible way to handle it. But many platforms simply won’t deal with any kind of perfectly legal adult content at all.

Some examples:

  • Paypal freezes accounts that it deems to be making money off adult content.
  • Facebook removes posts that have any level of unacceptable nudity, including, you know, women’s nipples.
  • Fetlife struggled to find card processing companies that would take their business, and changed their terms of service to placate the one who would.
  • WordPress and Blogger do random purges of sex blogs.

The list goes on.

Recently two more platforms raised red flags.

This last discovery about Twitter is what prompted this post. It’s not a new thing on social media, a search will reveal that it’s been going on forever. It’s essentially a method by which a platform silently and stealthily reduces someone’s reach to ‘punish’ them for doing the wrong thing.

I’d never even heard of it until someone raised it as an issue on Twitter.

My account on Twitter is shadowbanned. So are the accounts of many of the sex bloggers from our little corner of the internet. What that means is that I don’t appear in searches at all, that anyone who doesn’t follow me can’t see my content if it’s retweeted, my comments won’t appear under hashtags, some people I talk to won’t see my comments, I’m essentially made invisible to anyone who doesn’t already follow me.

I have no idea why I have been shadowbanned (I mentioned that it’s done without warning, right?). Not only don’t I know why, there is no way to know how to get the ban lifted, or if it will ever get lifted. Despite being a sex blogger, I don’t tweet anything explicit. And I certainly don’t tweet hate or spam or abuse at anyone.

Apart from the ‘social media that doesn’t allow me to be social’ suckage, the most negative consequence of this shadowban is that Twitter is really the only tool I use to do any publicity, to tell people about my blog, to point them to my books, and without a platform where information is easily shared, I’m really only talking to people who already know about them (“Geez Ferns, WE KNOW THAT ALREADY!”).

I am notoriously bad at self promotion, but Twitter is where I can engage in casual banter with friends AND throw in the occasional ‘hey I’m over here, I wrote a thing!’ callout and hope to get one more person to take a look at a non-stereotypical happy-making version of F/m and go ‘aw yeah!’ and you know, maybe sell a book or two and be able to buy a cup of coffee on the strength of my writing.

So yeah, I’m kind of bummed.

So to the point of this post (yes there was one!): What can you do to help?

Share the content of sex bloggers you love.


Sex bloggers have rallied to start a new meme: Share our Shit Saturday #SoSS.

If you’re a blogger, pick some content you loved that week and share it on Saturday, mention the #SoSS meme, and then promote your post wherever you have a voice.

If you’re a reader, if you might previously have thought to yourself ‘good post!’ and clicked away. Please take a second to share it somewhere. Most bloggers have sharing buttons, so it’s easy enough to just click it: Done.

If it’s not a Saturday, that’s okay too because Share our Shit Someotherday (#SoSS). Seriously, just share it.

I’m a bit slow off the mark and it’s already Sunday here, but I don’t care. I’m going to cheat some and share some *other* people’s #SoSS posts (I am going broader than my normal F/m focus for this one: I think it’s important to support everyone who is being penalised for creating adult content).

Trolling The Net #36

by Molly’s Daily Kiss

Share Our Shit Saturday! #SoSS by Erosblog

#SoSS Posts that made me squirm by Cara Thereon

Sexy link roundup: sexual rights, anticipation and acrostic poetry by Girl On The Net



If you want to check if your twitter account is shadowbanned, you can test it here (note that locked accounts will always show as shadowbanned, so those results don’t count).

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General stuff and nonsense

I thought I’d post an update on what’s been going on with me. Mundane superficial updates totally count as quality blog posts, right? Of course they do!

Let’s see…

  • I’ve researched new web hosting for my website since my current host doesn’t offer any SSL in their smaller plans. Google is going to start penalising ‘not secure’ sites in searches and such so it’s a bit of a necessity. So I’ll be moving home soon. All going well, you won’t even notice that I’ve* stealthily moved my blog.

    *And by ‘I’, I mean MFMWKE (My Fabulous Man Who Knows Everything) of course, HE will be doing the move for me. I will not at all be hovering and twitching and whispering ‘Please don’t hurt my baby’. NO PRESSURE!

  • I’ve been looking at doing some more study next year, so I’ve been doing some research and submitting funding applications for that. I had hoped to do something literary to bolster my writing, but courses along those lines are costly and I can’t justify it. On the short list are some courses in web technologies or digital media.
  • For the last month I’ve been talking to a lovely submissive who I cold-emailed on a BDSM dating site (even though everyone knows Dommes NEVER initiate, amirite?! :P). His sweet sincerity makes me smile, and I see glimpses of that genuine desire to please that I love so much. We have some logistical issues but his enthusiastic optimism is a breath of fresh air. He’s flying in for a weekend soon to see if there’s something worth pursuing (if you know me at all, you know this is super rare :)).
  • I’m taking a family holiday in November and am actually looking forward to it (*gasp*! Looking forward to family time! I don’t even know who I am any more!). A place on the Great Barrier Reef with views, a pool, and a golf cart for getting around. I am stupidly excited about the golf cart, I don’t even know why! I’m picturing myself careening around, champagne in hand, yelling at people to get the hell out of my way: WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG?!
  • I’ve been posting quite a lot on Fetlife. I will bring some of the more interesting thoughts over here for posterity and further rumination, especially since Fetlife is unsearchable so all my cleverness and outrage disappears into the depths never to be seen again. Unacceptable!
  • I’m back at the gym more regularly, though I say that in a week where it’s already Thursday and I’ve only gone once. I’m refusing to feel bad about it (fine, I feel bad about it: happy now?!).

See how I hid that actual F/m snippet in the middle there? Ha! DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE DID YOU? :P

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Happy Femdom Story: Amina & shaykh

This lovely story is especially delightful because we get to hear both Amina AND her submissive, shaykh talk about finding each other in the light of their Islamic faith and customs.


Authors: Amina & shaykh


My name is Amina, I am married to my slave-puppy and wonderful husband. I like your happy femdom story and want to add mine. This is my happy femdom story from my, and then my husband’s, view. I hope this helps show a positive view of femdom.

I was 26 years old, and in Michigan. My mother went to New York to mosque and a shaykh (priest) told her they found a husband for me. My mother met him and said, “He’s a shaykh (priest) and a white American (lol mixed).”

I met him, we talked, and he was surprised my mother didn’t care he was fresh out of stage 2.1 seminary, homeless, unemployed (was looking), and staying in a boarding house.

So he was like, “You want to get married?”

I said, “You have to talk to my father.”

My father, being an Arab man, was like, “You’re a nice alim (scholar), but broke. You can’t marry my daughter.”

So he said, “Okay,” then left.

I didn’t hear from him for two months. My father, being Arab, didn’t want to look like the bad guy, so he didn’t tell me.

But the community starting saying, “She’s 26, a shaykh rejected her,” (he went to an Irani mosque, so he didn’t know what I was going through). My father couldn’t take it.

My ruhani (clergy) puppy went to see another lubnani shaykh (Lebanese priest) speak, and my father was there. My father is 6’3 and 350, with giant hands arms etc. He says. “Brothers excuse me”, and grabs puppy by the shoulders, and says, “Why haven’t you called my daughter? My daughter isn’t good enough for you?”

puppy says, “But akh (brother, sir, friend) you said I couldn’t marry her”.

My father says, “You idiot just because I said you couldn’t marry my daughter, doesn’t mean I didn’t want you to marry my daughter. Here’s my daughter’s number: call her or I will kill you.”

So he called me and didn’t tell me for like a month what happened. I tested him by asking or telling him do this or that, and as he obeyed, I added more. Now this was while we were going on chaperoned dates.

We got a mutah (temp marriage, in our case til aqd or permanent marriage) after two months.

My father gave permission, then tried to take it back, but the other shaykhs (preists) were like, “Once it’s given, you can’t take it back.” By this time my mother had figured out he wasn’t secretly rich, and was trying to ruin things.

After 2 more months, I got an apartment in another state, and stayed with my kinky cousins for a month, brought puppy down to me. He was 20, never lived outside family houses, seminary or shelter, so when we moved into my apartment he didn’t know what to do.

By that time we had learned that what we liked was called BDSM, and that I was an alpha and he was a beta sub.

I got pregnant, my mother tried to make my husband get a job that paid lots of money (he looked, but being alim, all he got was speaking work, and crap jobs), but at 22 what could he do?

My ssi said he couldn’t make more than 300 a month anyway before they cut some of my things, but my mother wanted him to take charge. Because he wasn’t an omega sub, she didn’t get it.

I gave orders and he filled in the details. I was the General he was the Lieutenant.

I told her I want to be in charge and support him. She thought that was evil, so we left when my son was 5 months old, and I got another apartment here, than another.

And life has been grand since, alhamduallah (praise be to god source/essence of source/essence)


I was an educated charismatic young scholar who could discuss speculative religious proofs thru to quantum physics. But I couldn’t keep a steady job. I was always first one fired because I was last hired and least experienced.

I had lived in 7 cities and been homeless 4 times before I was 20. I was a wandering holyman with no direction in practical life.

Then I went to the marriage meeting. And like a compassionate person who picks up a stray puppy, Amina cleaned me up, fed me, clothed me, supported me, took care of me, and brought me home.

She being seven years older than me was patient with me. She ran around 16 hours a day with me. She lost sleep and gave me sex four or five times a night. She put up with my bratty behaviour. During this whole time she was slowly training me. She began to teach me to focus on her pleasure and it gave me happiness. She let me help manage money and taught me to budget. She supported my religious work.

We began to travel. We visited many places and I had many engagements. Because I told the truth I was denied the pulpit and stayed out of the major centers. My reputation and respect in qum and najaf grew, and jealousy and hatred here increased.

My mistress was patient and made sacrifices so we could keep travelling. Finally with support from senior clerics I started a school. Travelling increased, all over the country and a few others.

I had here a surgery: My mistress did all the chores and shopping and nursed me back to health. Rajab shahban and ramadan came and went, we spent eid in San Diego. After which extreme depression over hypocrisy in the shiah community made me depressed. I pulled out not in time to organize 68 eugoly programs properly for my wife’s ancestors killed at Karbalah. My mistress forgave me and said you kept holy the 13 days, we will do a better program next year. When I got the flu, she took care of me like her own child.

I thank allah dat ul dat every day for mistress.

She is allah muwad-ul-khalaqin, mercy made manifest. She is kind caring nurturing forgiving generous funny smart sweet sexy pious wise devout devoutee concerned loving understanding disciplining merciful graceful elegant kind and so much more. I can never repay all she did for me. All I can is be the best protector aid scholar friend companion lover father to our son that I can. It is my privilege to kneel at her feet and to be her service dog guard dog and puppy.

Thank you mistress sayyidna amina for all that you are and all you have done for me.


This post is part of an ongoing project to share positive happy femdom relationship stories. If you have a story that you are willing to share, I’d love to host it. Please check out my call out post for details and send it on to me.

For an entire book of Happy Femdom Stories, click here.

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