Better to be uncomfortable than stagnant.

Growth is hard. Personal development is often uncomfortable and exhausting. Becoming a better version of myself, and healing from past traumas and hurts, requires constant vigilance and self-reflection. Some days I get frustrated because I see how often I could have done better, while other days make me smile because I see how far I’ve come over the years, especially this past year. I’ve had to analyze myself so much out of necessity that I’ve become painfully aware of my shortcomings and weaknesses. Facing my fears has become a natural part of life for me. And it SUCKS most of the time. Most people don’t really like having to face their demons and closet skeletons, after all.

But it’s ok. It’s good, even. This is life; this is how we grow and change for the better. The important thing is that we are constantly trying to become the best possible versions of ourselves, and to find better ways of handling what life throws at us. I would rather be painfully aware of my weak areas, but also be confident in my ability to slowly remedy them, than to pretend I’m perfect and never make progress in improving myself.

I used to fear traumas and hurtful people. I still do, but now what I fear most is not growing.

Growing is what helps me survive and find happiness again.

Growing is what makes me more capable of handling scary traumas and hurtful people.

Growing is what takes my past traumas and fears and helps to turn them into compassion for others instead of hatred.

Personal growth is the biggest, badass life weapon I’ve got, and I don’t ever want to put it down. It becomes rather addictive after a while; it kinda feels like a superpower. : P

I’ve heard it said that the only person we should want to be better than is the person we were yesterday. I couldn’t agree more.

I hope that 2017 is a year of unprecedented personal growth for all of us. May we all become better, happier versions of ourselves this coming year. : )

Acceptance is a Hard Limit.

One of the lessons I’ve learned in the kink and LGBTQ communities is that not everyone here is accepting of others. In fact, some people here are just as judgmental and belittling as vanilla people often are.

While I don’t expect everyone to personally understand or relate to every aspect of my life and I value diversity of opinion, there are some levels of non-acceptance that I will no longer tolerate from people who want to be actively in my life. I consider these my hard limits for relationships of any kind, even friends. These hard limits are also my personal standard for how I accept others.

My quirky interests.

I don’t care if you don’t also like cats or Star Wars or Disney movies, just don’t imply that I’m stupid or annoying for having these interests. My methods of expressing my quirky interests may need adjustment at times, but not the interests themselves.

My kink.

“Your kink is not my kink, but your kink is ok.” As long as everyone involved is a consenting adult with a reasonable knowledge of what they are consenting to, there should be no judgment about it. It’s cool if you’re not personally into rape fantasies or kitten play, but don’t put other people down for getting off on them.

My gender identity.

You don’t have to understand why calling myself genderqueer is important to me. Just accept it, and cherish me as I am. Don’t put me down for it or act like it’s an attack on your own gender identity (it’s really, truly not!)

My sexual orientation.

No one should ever be made to feel less-than for who they love. I’ve been put down for being bi/pansexual by other LGBTQ people who said I couldn’t make up my mind about being straight or gay. I’ve been denied access to certain queer groups offering support for women who like women because I don’t ONLY like women. Nope, not ok. My sexual orientation is just as valid as anyone else’s.

My personal beliefs about religion.

While I’m always striving to improve my communication and methods of expressing my ideas, and I admit I may need educating to accurately understand what other people believe, my beliefs are precious to me and I expect the people in my life to respect me as I am.

My mental health and traumas.

This is probably the most important one on this list for me.

I can’t help having anxiety and depression, or having lived through so many major life traumas that have made my mental illnesses worse. I didn’t choose to have ADD. The only choice I had was to get counselling, start meds under my doctor’s supervision, and to take personal responsibility to constantly work on these areas of my life to improve my ability to cope with them.

While I am open to respectful, caring assistance from my friends, and I will sometimes seek or accept advice from people I trust on these matters, I have been crushed and humiliated at how some people have treated my mental illnesses. Being called childish or weak for being triggered, or implying that my therapist and doctor’s glowing reports are wrong and I’m still a failure at managing my mental health, is incredibly discouraging.

People who haven’t lived with severe mental illness do not understand how devastating these comments and non-supportive attitudes are to the mentally ill. But even other mentally ill people do this. Some judge others for not coping like they do, or for experiencing mental illness differently.

If you don’t have something kind and supportive to say about someone’s mental illness, please keep your opinions to yourself. You’re just causing them more pain and may actually set them back even farther in their recovery by dashing their self esteem that they’ve worked so hard to build up. If they’re already getting treatment and you can see that they’re working on themselves, be supportive! Or be quiet and let them recover at their own speed! But don’t play doctor with them when they haven’t asked for your help. Just offer your support when you can, put up boundaries if you need to for your own mental health, and respectfully direct them to mental health resources and professionals if they’re truly falling apart on their own.

In summary:

Don’t be unaccepting under the guise of expressing your opinions. If your opinion says that someone else is wrong or foolish just because they are different than you, and they aren’t hurting you with their differences, then I recommend this old saying:

“If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

Men, you are goddamn sexy.

A man doesn’t need washboard abs or a huge monster cock to turn me on. Some of my best sexual experiences have been with men that society wouldn’t deem particularly attractive, but they were sexier and better in bed than the model-type men I’d fucked before them. I’ve noticed that some guys rely on their stereotypical good looks to get partners, but they then get lazy in other ways…

I like hands. Strong, skillful, practiced hands. I know what those hands can do to me, and it makes me drool inside to think about it. Wiggling those fingers with that knowing, impish look on their face… oh baby. Do it again. panties start gushing

I like faces. Not stereotypical model faces, but faces I’m familiar with and have grown to trust and develop feelings for. I like seeing a familiar man’s face break out into a smile when I do something funny or cute. I like catching them staring at me in an adoring way when I act weird; it makes me feel good to see that they like my oddball personality instead of being turned off by it. Feeling liked just as I am makes me more confident around them, and that makes me more comfortable opening up my sexual side to them.

Eye contact is sexy as hell. Guys and masculine types, never underestimate the seductive power of a long, intimate staring contest. Or a Domly “You’re mine” stare combined with a possessive growl. You can bring someone to their knees not with your abs, but with your eyes and commanding presence. And if you’re submissive, eye contact shows your trust and affection for the person you’ve given yourself to that evening.

Legs. Women aren’t the only ones who have sexy legs that make people drool. A man with strong legs is a man who can most likely fuck me the way I want to be fucked- hard and violently. (Hehe.) Or, his legs can withstand the torture that I may wish to inflict upon him in my little dungeon.

Strong arms means a man can wrestle me into submission. Or at the very least he’ll put up a fight before I tie him down and shove large toys in his ass.

But one thing that many masculine types don’t realize is how sexy they can be regardless of their physical appearance or abilities. Being given emotional support is precious to me. Emotional maturity in a guy turns me on. Sure, physical attraction is an important part of overall sexual attraction, but looks alone don’t make for good sex or a good relationship. I’ve met men that I initially thought were hot, but after a brief conversation I was so turned off by their awful attitudes and willful ignorance that the idea of being physical with them was revolting.

As a primarily femme type who was raised as a woman, I tend to focus a lot on femme body image issues and self confidence and that’s good. But it’s also really important for us to talk about how amazing masculine types are even when they feel they don’t look good enough. The media also puts unfair pressure on men to look perfect, and these unrealistic social standards are just as messed up for men as they are for women (and other genders).

Men, if a woman says they think you are sexy, believe that she means it. Just like you can genuinely like how a girl looks even when she feels ugly, the same is true for you. You don’t have to look like a Calvin Klein model to turn someone into a raging sex freak in your bedroom. It’s far more important to be a decent human being and exploit what you’ve got in a way that your partner loves. Many women actually prefer men that don’t look like models because they tend to be far more attentive to their needs and desires in the bedroom.

So carry on, my sexy men. I will drool over your sexiness even if you don’t believe it’s there.

Note: I do not have personal experiences with gay relationships, so this note is rather hetero-based. But like most of my writings, these ideas can easily apply to people of many gender combinations; I just tend to write about my own experiences.

Punishing a Sissy Bitch

He sat on the ground in front of me, naked, his head bowed in submission. His hands and feet were shackled in leather cuffs, and a dog chain hung from his leather collar. His cock was dripping in anticipation of the torture yet to come.

“May I worship your feet, Mistress Laura? You have such beautiful feet.”

I smiled and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at me. “Only if you beg for it, my little bitch. And not until I’ve thoroughly punished you first. Foot worship must be earned.”

I pulled him up to a standing position, directing him to lean over a chair so his ass was in full view. I made him wait while I took my time selecting my instruments of torture, finally settling on a thin wooden paddle with a nasty sting.

“Are you going to be a good slut for me today?” Whack “Because I have lots of punishments lined up for you if you aren’t.” Whack “I can do this all day if I feel that your attitude needs more adjusting.” Whack

“Mistress Laura I’ll be a good slut for you. I live to please you. I want to OW! please you with my OW! pain. Please use me as OW! your OW! toy.” He yelped again as I grabbed his balls and squeezed hard.

“On a scale of one to ten, how much pain was that one, my little slut?”

His legs were shaking, but he managed to squeak out an answer. “It’s about a 9, Mistress Laura. I love it when you hurt me.”

I giggled sadistically. “Oh good! You’re going to love my next toy, then. It’s extra stingy.” He looked scared and excited all at once; my favorite response.

I walked over to my wall of toys and selected a silicone paddle. “This one stings like a motherfucker. Nasty little whores get the extra hurty ones. Tell me how much you want me to beat you with this.” I leaned over him, brushing my corset over his bare back and letting the paddle sit on his left butt cheek. “Oh please Mistress Laura I want to try the paddle OWWW!”

I smiled maliciously. “Oh, that was delicious. Shall I hit you again?” Whack “Yes ple-OW!” Whack whack whack whack

After a few more beatings, I pulled out one of my favourite toys- a long strip of white elastic designed for sewing into waistbands. I love it because I can wrap it around almost any body part and snap it as hard as I want. It’s like a huge rubber band, but much more versatile. “I think it’s time for my little bitch to get some lovely red welts. Don’t you agree?” He nodded as I stuffed a ball gag in his mouth. I wrapped the elastic around his thigh, holding the two ends in my left hand and snapping it hard with my right. He squirmed and yelped as I snapped it, leaving red welts in a horizontal pattern. “Had enough yet, slut?” He shook his head. I laughed and switched to his other thigh, this time focusing on the tender inner parts. His balls had been neglected too long so I gave those a few more squeezes too, causing his legs to shake and shudder again with pain.

Then I removed his gag and pulled out my other favourite toy- a slingshot and gummy candies. I instructed him to stand on the other side of the room with his hands on a piece of furniture. “Ready to be my target practice, bitch?” He nodded excitedly. “Yes Mistress Laura, I want to be your target practice so bad! Please shoot me with your slingshot!” Pulling back the slingshot with a gummy bear inside, I yelled “Fire in the hold!” I watched his butt cheek jiggle as the gummy candy hit it. It was very amusing, so I shot another one at his other cheek. “This is so much fun! I’m going to try a few more and give you some polka dots.” Red spots started to appear where the gummies had hit.

Once my arm was tired out from all the beatings and target practice, I let out a big sigh of satisfaction and sat down on my chair, instructing him to kneel in front of me. I stroked his hair and smiled. “Now you may worship my feet, my little sissy bitch. You’ve earned it.”

(This is a story based on my many real sessions with awesome Pro Domme clients. Not based on any client in particular.)

Why I Love Anal Training

There’s just something about shoving large toys in a big guy’s ass that’s so much fun. It’s also fun with people of other genders too, but I particularly like doing it with cis men. I think anal training and CBT with cis men is becoming a fetish for me.

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It makes me feel powerful.

I’ve had countless negative experiences with cis men who have pushed or broken my boundaries, or generally made me feel uncomfortable around them. Being in a position of power over them, and doing something to them that makes them so incredibly vulnerable with me, is really fun. I call the shots; I control their pleasure or lack thereof. I still enjoy this power dynamic with people of other genders, but it’s especially meaningful for me when dealing with cis men. It’s like I’m regaining my confidence and learning to stand my ground against the very demographic that has caused me the most fear and self-doubt. Shoving things up their ass while squeezing their balls and calling them a sissy bitch is rather therapeutic, in a twisted maniacal way. ; )

I like kinky science experiments.

And what could be more interesting that testing someone’s limits with what they can take up their ass? Especially men that usually like to call the shots and be in control? I’ll be the scientist today… you can be my guinea pig. Hehehehe.

I like strap-ons.

Seriously, what’s hotter than a petite femme getting to wear a massive silicone dick and mercilessly pound a tough guy’s butt with it? Not much.

It gives me an opportunity to practice being a good domme.

Doing anal play with someone who has a ‘virgin’ asshole is a big responsibility. I have to not only concern myself with consent and safety issues, and potential cleaning issues, but I must also make sure that I take things slow enough so they have a good time and don’t get hurt in ways they don’t want. I do want to push them out of their comfort zones, but only as far as they’ve agreed to go. Watching body language and listening for barely-audible safewords is vital, as is checking in with them after the scene to make sure they are ok with the pace and intensity that was used. Anal play is not just about the domme’s power lust, as much as I enjoy that part. It’s more important to ensure that the bottom (pun intended) also has a good time, and above all that their consent is respected at all times. Doing intense anal training forces me to stay on top of these things so I’m always prepared to be a safe, consent-minded play partner.

Can you handle this dick? I doubt it.

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Sometimes Dommes Want to Submit Too.

I’ve noticed that people (mostly men) seem to respect me more now that I present myself as a domme and not as a switch. As a switch, I would get messages from (again mostly men) latching onto that one tiny mention of my potential submission. That, to them, seemed to be an indicator of ‘weakness’ that they could exploit. But now that I present myself as a domme, there is no wiggle-room in there for most men to try to take advantage of me anymore. And as a domme, a bitchy reply is almost expected, so I feel more confident being blunt when they are acting inappropriately or asking me for sexual attention or discussion that I have no desire to give them. And unsolicited advice about my appearance or interests? They don’t stand a chance anymore. What would be deemed rude from a submissive is expected from a domme.

But, I still crave submission. Not to random people, but with people I know and trust. It’s something I don’t do much of anymore, but it’s always in my fantasies.

Submitting as a domme is not easy. Not only do I have to find people that I am comfortable enough to submit to, but they have to be on what I would consider equal standing with me as a dominant. I can’t submit to someone if I feel that they don’t know what they’re doing. It’s not a judgment about their abilities or lack of experience, but a matter of comfort and ability to let myself go. I know how much responsibility is involved for tops, especially when a power dynamic is involved, so giving that control away to someone else is extremely hard for me now. And even if I do trust them, I then must have the right chemistry with them as a person and with their play style.

Finding a dominant as a domme is difficult to say the least. But, I no longer feel that I need to be actively submissive to be fulfilled as a person. I will always be looking for it on some level, and I’ll always fantasize about it, but I’d rather be patient and wait for the right situation than try to force a connection just to ‘scratch an itch’.

In the meantime, I’ll practice my skills on the other end of the dominance spectrum, and occasionally let very close friends top me. Therapy paddling is fun now and then.

My Kink Bucket List

I may update this if I’m able to live out some of these fantasies or when I think of more kinky shit I want to do. Enjoy.

  • Be worshiped as a goddess by many subs at once, all on leashes, bowing at my feet begging for a beating. I may agree to beat one or two of them, if they beg hard enough and serve me well.
  • Have a line of subs lined up for me and other dommes to fuck their asses with strap-ons.
  • To have a blue and black stunt violin and bow specifically for my kink musical scenes.
  • To learn to dance like Lindsey Stirling, and then do an erotic kinky violin dance in fetish-wear.
  • Learn to dance, then choreograph a dance with a submissive showing kink power dynamics in a sensual, beautiful, artistic way.
  • Play violin while suspended upside down in rope or dangling from silk scarves.
  • I want a domme throne. A fucking massive chair with velvet and carved wood and all that fancy shit.
  • To wrestle with a primal wolf and win.
  • To be the consensual ‘victim’ of a gangbang where I’m treated as an object.
  • To be brutally ravished outside up against a tree late at night in a consensual-non-consent scenario.
  • Get a kink-themed tattoo.
  • A Star Wars themed dungeon complete with Lightsaber floggers and a Sith domme outfit. The Darth Vader theme song would play as my majestic domme highness entered the room to begin the beating.
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