Yes, Ma'am

by Jude Mason

A topic near and dear to my heart this week and unfortunately, it's my last post as a member of the OGG family. Life has tossed a few stumbling blocks under my feet and I've had to trim my obligations. I shall miss you all and hope to visit often. You're fantastic people here, readers and authors both. Thank you!

Now, on to femdom and some of it's most amazing aspects.

As some of you may know, I began my writing career writing femdom. I've been scribbling stories about how women control men for years and have always felt very comfortable telling their stories, as well as the stories of their men. There are so many scenarios to play with here. School teacher/student, Mistress/slave, Mistress/pony, naughty neighbor/infuriated woman next door, wanna be toy/for hire Dominatrix, spaceship captain/humble slave from the ships hold, to name just a few.

I adore strong women and get very annoyed when I see those movies where the simpering young fem squeals prettily while a knife wielding man threatens her. The gun laying on the table beside her is forgotten. The dumbass woman simply waits for the hero to save her.

WTF!

Grab the gun lady and blow the guys head off. Yes!

I mean for crying out loud. Would you just cringe and scream? I mean, really? I may not grab the gun, you never know that one until it happens, but I'd be doing more than squealing prettily, that's for sure.

Being in control. That's what femdom is, and for that matter it's also what male domination is. Whether it's taking control, or being offered it by the submissive, it's still having the ability to control not only yourself, but the knowledge and ability to control the other person. Sounds kind of bothersome, doesn't it?

Nah. It's fun. I'll toss in a couple of samples here. Remember, the men in my stories are willing/eager victims, and that's huge.

Taken from Vertical Tease:

He knew the voice; it was hers. The husky whisper was a huge turn on for him, and she knew it. He'd told her often enough. He tried to turn and look at her but couldn't swing his head far enough. "I thought this was just going to be an interview, a first meeting, not the real thing." Even to his own ears, it sounded lame. Her laughter came as no surprise.

"No, this is it, sweetheart. The real thing."

He heard the tapping of her shoes behind him, pacing back and forth. They halted, directly behind him.

"You paid good money for this, and I have the time now. So relax."

The way she said it made him feel anything but relaxed. He struggled against the rubber holding him tightly to the wall. Even the wall seemed to be well padded, nothing bruised. He was naked inside the suit, of that he was sure. Embarrassment sent a shiver through him. "But, I…uh…I'm not sure I'm ready." Again, a lame confession, and one he wasn't sure was true.

"I am." She stepped closer.

The puff of air against his cheek wafted across his nose. He was sure it was her breast pressinf against his back. At least, he wanted to believe it was. His cock throbbed. He gasped. It was free! Somehow, whoever had bound him had left his cock and balls exposed to the open air. Heart racing, his mouth went dry. Tentatively, he flexed his abdominal muscles and felt his cock sway. Her hands on his back forced his attention away from his groin. They moved along his spine, the material so thin, so tactile friendly, he felt every touch of her fingers from high up between his shoulder blades to just above the crack of his ass. She tested and tugged at the buckles that, no doubt, held him firmly in place.

"W-what are you going to do to me?" he asked, afraid of the answer, praying she'd do what they'd discussed—wondered if she knew the rest. Thoughts in turmoil, he closed his eyes and heard his heart beating while he waited for her to reply.

"I'm going to do exactly what I want to do to you."

* * *

Yum! There's no beating or torture, the man even though he's been bound and couldn't get away if he wanted to, is very turned on. That's the lady's idea of fun. His too, big time. Of course in Vertical Tease, the fellow actually sought out the woman and paid for her services, that's not always the case. I would dare say, it's not what happens most of the time. I would actually hope that for most men, and women, this is something done in a loving relationship. Something they've talked about a great deal and agreed upon.

As in any relationship, communications is important thing. While any long term pairing takes work and talk, it's even more important if one partner is going to take control of the other. You have to know how far the submissive partner wants to go, or is willing to go. You have to make sure you don't do something that could harm the other. The submissive partner has to know, deep down, he or she can trust their partner to stop immediately if they're not happy with what's going on, or if there's more pain than they're able or willing to take. Whatever. Trust and talking, HUGE!! Without it, the scene could be classed as abuse, and has been on many occasions. And I don't want to even go there. Talk or just don't do it.

I also believe, and this is just MY opinion, that men and women have different reasons for wanting to both dominate and/or submit to another. Men are raised to be in control of themselves and everything around them. From the few submissive men I've spoken to, they crave a time when they can completely let that go. They want to relinquish their power and responsibility to someone else. They may not want it to be in any other way but sexual, but sometimes it can be more.

Women, on the other hand, have been raised to submit, to some extent. Not so much now, but there is still that hint of it in our child rearing. Women are accustomed to it, and some fight it, while others may embrace it. They feel right when submitting, they can relinquish any responsibility of sexual excitement, after all, nice girls still aren't supposed to like sex in some cases. If they are forced to climax, it's not their fault.

I've got to assume this has something to do with at least some of the submissives. I'm not going to assume I've got all the answers, or even most of them. These just feel right to me. I'm also going to assume there are more reasons or explanations than just those. I'm also going to assume, that being either dominant or submissive is something like being gay or lesbian. You don't choose it, it's part of who you are.

Gasp... felt like I was teaching class again. Mr. Lister, I believe that'd be your job.

Now for a sexy young couple who really enjoy their time together. They've talked about adding a friend to their play, but little did Rick realize, today was the day and OMG it's her!

Taken from Pink Ribbon

"I want you to have a shower now, and make sure you're shaved." Cass flicked the tip of his erection with a finger, and laughed when it twitched from side to side. His scrotum puckered, and his balls itched even more. "But, make sure you don't masturbate. I'll pop in sometime during your shower to watch. If I catch you playing with yourself, you'll get both a flogging and be denied an orgasm."

"Yes, Mistress," he'd replied.

Cass got to her feet, and added, "On your feet, but keep your legs apart."

Rick had climbed to his feet. He'd curled his fingers into fists to keep them away from his crotch. The frustration mounted even higher when he'd made his way to the bathroom. His genitals swayed, the air wafted around his balls.

He'd showered and shaved, paying special attention to his genitals. Even just being able to touch and pull at the skin eased his torment somewhat. Not enough though, and by the time he'd finished, he was as horny as he could ever remember being. The anticipation of what was going to happen was the culprit, and he tried not to think about what Cass had planned. But the more he tried to concentrate on something else, the more his mind refused, and came back to the days ahead.

Cass had come in, and sat on the toilet watching him as he shaved the stubble around the root of his cock. Running the safety blade over his balls, he'd pulled and stretched the skin, ensuring a clean shave. She chuckled when he groaned, and even offered to help him with his bottom. He'd turned off the shower, re-lathered and bent forward for her, and tried desperately to hold still while she ran the blade carefully between his cheeks. Done, she'd left him trembling and told him to make sure he rinsed well.

While he stood toweling himself, he'd heard the doorbell chime. His stomach tightened. Could he go through with it?

The bathroom door had opened. It was Cass, smiling, eager. "Now is your last chance to stop this. Once I take you out of here, you'll obey me or be punished."

His mind had been numb. Excitement and apprehension warred for a moment while he stood trembling on the white tiled floor. "Kiss me," he'd croaked. For that moment he'd felt vulnerable and alone, but when she came into his arms, his world felt complete and wonderful. She washis soul mate, his lady, and the only person in the world who understood him. She went into his arms, hers wrapping around his neck and pulling his lips to hers. It was his turn to take control, if only for a few moments of sheer bliss. Bodies melded to each other, tongues twined around the others, and breath mingled as they lost themselves in each other. Too soon the kiss ended. Neither moved for the longest time, but then it was as if a signal had been given.

Rick looked deep into his lady's eyes, and said, "Yes, I'm ready, Mistress."

Cass pulled out of his arms and took a deep breath. The bodice of her slip dress showed how erect her nipples were, and her chest above the silk dappled with a flush. "Heel me," she'd said, and turning, left the bathroom.

* * *

And here's a little something, by request. Thank you Lisabet. This short bit of fiction was included in Cream: The Best of the Readers and Writers Association...gasp. Quite a handle, don't you think? But a book filled with the most amazing erotica you'll find anywhere. Here's my little flasher:

The Question (100 words)
© 2002 Jude Mason

"What would you like, pet?" I asked, standing at his side. My hand, on his naked upturned ass, felt the heat of our last hour's session.

"More - please," he moaned, squirming, trying to rub his straining cock against something, anything.

"More?" I quipped, knowing.

"Spank me!" he growled. I watched his testicles pull in tight. A finger meandered around them, then upwards to his crinkled brown star, pressing mischievously inside. "Yes… Oh God, fuck me."

"Fuck or spank?"

Lustful indecision made him hesitate.

"I'll be back in an hour for your choice." I shut the door and heard him howl.

* * *

As you can see, this really is a topic I could go on about for days. I'll refrain and just say, different strokes for different folks. Just because your neighbor might like to have his butt warmed by his wife, doesn't mean he's odd. He's no more odd than the man who likes to wear his wife's panties or the woman who can't get off unless the lights are turned off. We all have our kinks. As long as you're talking and not doing something to harm each other, in my books, it's all good. Even a well warmed bum is a good thing, if that's what you enjoy. Try it, you might find you like it. Honest!

Oh, and if you are interested in reading a few of my femdom tales, try my collection in, Yes, Ma'am

Inside, you'll find:

An Acquired Taste
Pink Ribbon
Stage Fright
Amber's Toy
Ritual and Ceremony
A Fantasy Appointment

Yeah, an unabashed plug, but hey, it's my last post, so I'm being bad.

It's been a blast and I will be back to comment often, so you won't lose me entirely. Good luck and best wishes to you all. If you'd like to keep up with me, here are my links:


*Jude Mason – Readers needed: Come, explore with me…if you dare*

Website: http://www.my-haven2001.com
Newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jude_Masons_Newsletter/
Jude's Blog: http://jude-mason.blogspot.com/
To join my mailing list, email me: jude.mason AT yahoo.ca

With a little help.. or hindrance... from my friends

"Sammy, shush, I've already told your story. Yes, I know it wasn't a long story and you have more to say. Patience my pet." Gazing at the blank screen, I knew I had to write something, and soon.

'Write about me,' Sam mutters quietly into my ear.

"No, I can't write about you. It's got to be a paranormal this time." I admonished the purple clad character. "Why don't you go and see if Cyn needs anything."

'She doesn't. She at home with that man of hers.'

"Well, you should be with yours. I'm sure Greg would love the company." Greg was Sammy's fella. They'd moved in together and that was the story Sammy wanted me to write. Ugh!

'What about me,' grumbled Rose, her scarred fingers pointing towards herself. 'I definitely have more story to tell. It's been months, Hell, years since you worked with me.'

"Yes, sweetie, I know and I definitely want to get to you, very soon. But, I really have to--"

'Have to what? Create new characters, new stories, new plots and scenarios? But, you have more to say about me...us!'

Rose was definitely pissed, as she should be. It had been way too long since I spent any time with her.

I read the call for submissions again, and wondered why I'd volunteered to write for this one. I knew nothing about the seamier side of San Francisco. I'd only been there for part of one day.

'I've been there,' yelled Amber, yet one more character who thought needed more story time. 'That's where that bastard Tony snagged me.'

"That wasn't San Francisco," I glared at...nothing and cringed. Bugger, I was beginning to fall into these conversations a little too easily of late.

I left the computer room and went for more coffee. Maybe I needed to get out for awhile. It'd been weeks since I just walked the beach or even watched an entire movie without letting 'those guys' distract me.

Today was like any other. I got up, did my morning routine, fed the birds and took Meg, my sister in laws dog out for her morning pee. Played with her for a little bit then got the computer going. Coffee in hand, I went through the usual avalanche of email and messages.

After yacking with my writing partner about some FANTASTIC news we got earlier, it was time to get busy. That's pretty much how most of my mornings go. Okay, Meg doesn't live here, but the rest is fairly typical. It's that blank page that intimidates me. I have ideas enough to fill a truck, but how to begin is always daunting. That first sentence. Does it work? Add another and read them. Delete words, add others. Save. Add another sentence or two, three, a paragraph, a page.

Going back to the beginning, time after time, re-writing, trashing, slashing, wondering if I really have a clue what Im doing. Doubting it, myself. What the HELL do I think I'm doing?

The idea forms, solidifies. Time to actually come up with a rough draft, a concept of where this stinking story is going. I'm liable to wind up in the bay diving for some treasure that's not there. Synapsis, yeah, that's it. Do a synopsis so I can follow it and actually write the thing. Chapter by chapter, that's how I like to do these. I keep it flexible, but it gives me the direction.

That first page might work. Might not. Hate the names, but I'll change those until they fit. Characters have to fit their names you know. Ask Sammy, his name changed a dozen times before I liked it, and he wasn't even the main character.

'Yeah, I thought Cyn was going to strangle you,' he piped up from behind me.

"Yeah well, I had no idea you were going to be so damn pushy either. I thought you were a whishy washy type."

'Me? Do I look like the wishy washy type?' He prances around to the center of the room and strikes a pose. Purple suit, ruffles at collar and cuff.

I peered at him and smiled. "Sammy, you look like a queer with a penchants for flamboyance. Nothing wishy washy about you."

'Which is exactly me.'

"Go see Greg, would you? I really need to get busy here."

Poof, and Sammy is gone, for now.

See, this is how things happen for me. I'd like to think I was organized. Sometimes I am, just not about writing. I do like to get some form of outline done for longer works. I have a lousy memory for eye colors, furniture placement and such. I have been known to keep a spread sheet going for that kind of thing. It helps. When you add the number of characters I've helped create over the years, I find it next to impossible to keep them all straight. Yet, I often remember things about them and wonder how their lives are going. Are Sammy and Greg really as happy as I left them. Did Rose find peace? Are the changelings all right. Jamie, do they bother you like they do me?

I do keep a schedule of sorts so I don't volunteer for two things that need to be done at the same time. Other than that, I panic a lot. The actual process is different each time. Different characters bother me, different scenarios present themselves. It's always new. Always fresh, and I love every moment of it.

I had a teacher in high school tell me that all serious writers are crazy. I wonder if he's right? What do you think?

BDSM, what the heck is that all about?

The stirrings of a young man’s heart when he sees his girlfriend bent over a fence. His thoughts, ‘God I’d love to tie her there.’

A girl sees a sexy movie dude kneeling at the foot of his faux lover’s bed, and that girl’s mind races with ‘bend over, bend over, I want to spank your ass.’

No ages given, none needed, your imagination can take you wherever.

BDSM, bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism. Sounds a little scary doesn’t it? Perverse, abuse, sin, words bandied about to encourage those interested in the genre to hide it away. But, what is it really?

Some of us desire to either be controlled or to control another. It’s like any other passion, any other need. You don’t choose it, you are possessed by it. Why do you crave to be dominated? What makes you want to dominate someone? It’s like explaining why you’re heterosexual, or why you breathe.

There’s the safe sane and consensual aspect of BDSM, and we should all strive to at least understand what that means. Safe, means not to harm your partner so badly they need medical aid. Think about it. Safe: You want to use a flogger, learn how. Strike over the kidney too many times or too hard and you’re asking for trouble. Use a cane on a person’s spine and you can do major damage. Any bindings should be checked every few minutes to be sure circulation is fine. It’s always up to the dominate to make sure his, or her, submissive is safe.

Sane: Also more or less self-explanatory. Use your head, and that means a sober, non-drugged head. Alcohol is never a good idea if you plan on doing a scene. Possibly a glass of wine with dinner, but definitely not six just before you and your sexy playmate decide it’s time to get kinky. Always, always, think about what you’re doing, before you jump in.

There’s also the issue of, is a person looking for daddy’s approval through BDSM, or something like it. Is the person who wants to be ‘disciplined, sane? Is the person who is doing the disciplining sane? Things to think about before you get into the act. Yes?

Consensual: Both parties agree to whatever ‘play’ is about to take place. Yes, there are rape scenarios where one partner wants to be kidnapped and abused, but it’s always a good idea to at least discuss what that might include. I mean if Joe Swift wants his lady to bash him over the head and stuff him into the kiddies toy crate for an hour before she drags him out and molests his sweet butt for the rest of the weekend, it’d be pretty sad if she simply tied him to the bed and uses a feather on him. It’s not what he wanted and if she’s any kind of Domme, she’ll find out before the play begins. His consent is a must. I don’t mean in writing, unless that’s part of what you both want, but I do mean both partners have to know what’s going on.

Safe words: There’s been tons about this and how important they are. Well, sometimes they are. That depends on the people playing. Yes? We’re back to talking about all this stuff. If Sally wants her butt warmed, and Joe is willing to do it until she cries ‘Spank me no more brave Joe’ then there’s probably not huge call for a safe word. If the couple wants to have one, then go for it. If there’s a chance that the ‘discipline’ might be too harsh, then it might be an idea to discuss it. But, if Sally can yell, ‘fucking stop beating my ass,’ and be assured the Joe will, then they’re cool without one.

Communication is right up there as number one in any of this. But, that’s really true of any relationship, right? If you don’t talk to your partner, then how can you please them? Once you get past that awkward, I hope he doesn’t think I’m a pervert stage, the going should get really smooth and the fun will be even better.

Writing about BDSM! I guess you have to have an interest, whether it’s something you want to do or are simply curious about the whys and wherefores. There are dozens of websites where you can find good solid information, and if you don’t understand something, there are forums where you can ask. Do the research and ask the questions, I’ve found the BDSM community online to be incredibly helpful.

I’ve written about BDSM for years and enjoy it tremendously, even when it’s not a fetish or kink I’m into. For three years I wrote for a breast torture site and learned a great deal about the fetish and why it was so popular. I can’t say I’d want to spend time with needles inserted into tender bits, but I can understand the attraction. I also spent time writing for a spanking site and really enjoyed it. It’s all good, as long as there’s consent and people are safe.

I'd like to also note here, these are my opinions, and nothing more. I don't want to start any kind of fight or confrontation with anyone.

Now for a little tease from one of my books within the genre:

Taken from the story, Pink Ribbon,
one of the stories in my collection, 'Yes, Ma'am'

By Jude Mason

ISBN: 978-1-59426-894-6

Publisher: Phaze http://www.phaze.com

Buy Now

Blurb:

Rick Sebastian, successful attorney by day, eager slave to his wife/Mistress Cass after hours, is caged. He'd spoiled dinner, and while waiting for punishment, reflects on how he'd begun his strange and exciting journey into submission. His memories, and the arrival of Cass' friend, make for an evening to remember.

Content: BDSM/contemporary/femdom/male submissive

Excerpt:

"There you are," Cass beamed. "Let me see what you've brought me." She stopped in front of him; her stiletto-clad foot an inch from his knee, the silky black stockings disappearing up her leg and out of his view. He'd seen no skirt. His erection throbbed noticeably. She bent down, and he managed to catch a glimpse of her as she picked up the flogger. Her tightly waved hair hugged her head like an ebony helmet, and accentuated her cheekbones and the line of her jaw. She hadn't worn a skirt. In fact she wore very little, a black satin slip dress and a red corset that cinched her waist impossibly tight.

A swish of leather close beside him had made him tremble.

"Did you touch yourself today?" Cass asked pointedly.

"No, Mistress," he'd replied in a rush.

"Did you ask the clerk in the store for help?"

Rick felt his face heat up and knew he was blushing. "Yes, Mistress.

Well, not exactly, one of them asked me, and I said I needed help."

"Excellent. What did the clerk look like?"

"Blonde, very pretty. She wore a lot of leather. Her name was Sabine. The other clerk called her that."

"There were two clerks there?"

"Yes, Mistress. The other one was a little older."

"And did one of them try the flogger?"

The heat in his face grew even hotter and traveled down over his chest. "Yes, Mistress, and I told her it was for my Mistress. She gave me a note for you."

"She did, where is it?"

"In the bag the flogger was in."

Cass retrieved the bag and pulled the note out, but didn't read it. "You did well." She stepped back and said, "Lean back, hands on the floor, push your hips up."

A moment later, the rumpled ribbon dangled from her hand and she'd dropped it to the floor. His cock and balls were free for the first time in a day. He desperately wanted to rub himself. His testicles moved upwards, itched so much that his inner thighs twitched in sympathy.

"I want you to have a shower now, and make sure you're shaved." Cass flicked the tip of his erection with a finger, and laughed when it twitched from side to side. His scrotum puckered, and his balls itched even more. "But, make sure you don't masturbate. I'll pop in sometime during your shower to watch. If I catch you playing with yourself, you'll get both a flogging and be denied an orgasm."

"Yes, Mistress," he'd replied.

Cass got to her feet, and added, "On your feet, but keep your legs apart."

Rick had climbed to his feet. He'd curled his fingers into fists to keep them away from his crotch. The frustration mounted even higher when he'd made his way to the bathroom. His genitals swayed, the air wafted around his balls.

He'd showered and shaved, paying special attention to his genitals. Even just being able to touch and pull at the skin eased his torment somewhat. Not enough though, and by the time he'd finished, he was as horny as he could ever remember being. The anticipation of what was going to happen was the culprit, and he tried not to think about what Cass had planned. But the more he tried to concentrate on something else, the more his mind refused, and came back to the days ahead.

Cass had come in, and sat on the toilet watching him as he shaved the stubble around the root of his cock. Running the safety blade over his balls, he'd pulled and stretched the skin, ensuring a clean shave. She chuckled when he groaned, and even offered to help him with his bottom. He'd turned off the shower, re-lathered and bent forward for her, and tried desperately to hold still while she ran the blade carefully between his cheeks. Done, she'd left him trembling and told him to make sure he rinsed well.

While he stood toweling himself, he'd heard the doorbell chime. His stomach tightened. Could he go through with it?

The bathroom door had opened. It was Cass, smiling, eager. "Now is your last chance to stop this. Once I take you out of here, you'll obey me or be punished."

His mind had been numb. Excitement and apprehension warred for a moment while he stood trembling on the white tiled floor. "Kiss me," he'd croaked. For that moment he'd felt vulnerable and alone, but when she came into his arms, his world felt complete and wonderful. She was his soul mate, his lady, and the only person in the world who understood him. She went into his arms, hers wrapping around his neck and pulling his lips to hers. It was his turn to take control, if only for a few moments of sheer bliss. Bodies melded to each other, tongues twined around the others, and breath mingled as they lost themselves in each other. Too soon the kiss ended. Neither moved for the longest time, but then it was as if a signal had been given.

Rick looked deep into his lady's eyes, and said, "Yes, I'm ready, Mistress."

Cass pulled out of his arms and took a deep breath. The bodice of her slip dress showed how erect her nipples were, and her chest above the silk dappled with a flush. "Heel me," she'd said, and turning, left the bathroom.

* * * *

I hope you've enjoyed the post. I'd really love to hear from you. Your opinions, outlooks or questions would be awesome.

Hugs