Black and White ~ Discipline

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She really wasn’t kidding when she said that she was going to get serious about his discipline. He was sure that she would be in a good mood today. She went to that fancy brunch with her friends that she’d been talking about all week. And he supposed that she was still in a good mood and yet she didn’t hesitate assign him a punishment.

She said they would still have their play time later that day. And that of course the punishment wouldn’t wait. She said he needed this and he deserved this.

He hung his head and entered the room thinking that the weight of her gaze would crush him into dust.

He should have just done his chores like he was supposed to.

–Miss Ari ^_^

Black and White ~ 1

22115f0a5aec6769d57e71c4cfd776d8 I know I haven’t been here lately. I’ve been over here a lot. But I’m not gone! And, in an attempt to get back on a schedule, I’ll be posting a black and white FemDom photo about every Friday accompanied by my comments or perhaps a poem. There’s something just so alluring about a black and white photo especially one as powerful as this. Beautiful legs just perfect for hosiery and an obedient boy at her feet, right where he belongs.

–Miss Ari ^_^

Be Careful What You Wish For (Short Fiction)

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I watched his face carefully. His eyes were closed tightly and his breathing was labored but he remaining as still as he could. I knew he expected more, but I also suspected that he would not be able to handle any more. I rubbed my hand over his red flesh and he flinched for the first time.

“That’s enough.” I said softly. This wasn’t a punishment, after all. This was only to show him what would happen if he were to disobey me.

He looked up at me confused for a moment.

“That’s all for today. You took more than I thought you would. Were you counting?”

He nodded slowly.

“How many?”

He thought for a moment, then he took a breath. “Twenty-two?”

“Is that a question?”

“No. It… it was twenty-two.”

I sat my implement down and walked around him slowly. “Are you sure? It wasn’t Twenty-four? What about twenty-one?” I could see him hesitate for a moment.

“Umm…”

“Maybe we should start over? Then you can count again. Do you want to change your answer?”

“No, Ma’am. It was twenty-two.”

I smiled at him. “Very good.”

I stepped back until my legs touched the edge of the bed and I sat. “Come here.” I curled my finger at him.

He got to his knees slowly and crawled over to me. I received him taking his face into my hands and pulling closer kissing him deeply.

I broke the kiss.

“Yes.” He whispered.

“Yes, What?”

“Yes I still want to belong to you.”

I smiled. “I wasn’t going to ask.” I said. “I’ve asked you enough and I believe you now. I’m deciding for myself that you belong to me and there’s no going back. You know that don’t you? You’ll never be the same again. I own you totally and completely; every part of you is mine now.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Of course, Ma’am.”

“Do you like belonging to me?”

“Yes, Ma’am. It feels so good to belong to you. I wish to never leave your side.”

I smiled that sadistic smile that he loved. “Be careful what you wish for.”

–Miss Ari ^_^

 

P.S. I’ve recently created a second blog where I’ll be posting more personal stories and fun happenings from my current relationship: Here.

Is it wrong?

Wrong? Don't be silly, darling. Does this feel wrong to you?

Wrong? Don’t be silly, darling. Does this feel wrong to you?

Well, what do you think? Because a majority of the people that ask this are not asking whether it is really wrong, but they are asking what they should think. They do not think it is wrong but society tells them that they should.

I don’t blame them for being skeptical. Skepticism is a critical part of surviving. So maybe, by popular definition it is weird. Maybe it doesn’t fit in too well; maybe it’s wrong, but it feels so good doesn’t it?

Your body screams for my dominance.
Your skin craves my caress.
Your heart yearns to be enveloped in the sound of my voice, no matter what the command.
Your very bones tremble as I leave.
Your mind surrendered long ago.
But it doesn’t matter because you trust me to think for you when you cannot think for yourself.

It is not ignorance that you live in. It’s not power craze that fuels me.
It is our essences folding together where they belong.
Your submission is bliss.

And at the end of the day, if we are apart, we are still together. Aren’t we?

You can still feel my hand entwined in your hair.

Is that wrong?

I don’t think so.

 

–Miss Ari ^_^

What Your Fears Are To Me

They are real despite what others might think.

They are thing I may not ever fear for myself, just as my fears are to you.

They can be lethal to our relationship if not handled properly.

They are nothing to be ashamed of;

nothing to hide from.

Your fears are bigger than I think they are;

and they are smaller than you think they are.

Your fears are a story written by your past;

and yet a path to a better future.

Your fears will bring us closer together.

–Miss Ari ^_^

Forgive yourself for me.

Forgive yourself for me.

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His Hands Were Not Bound (fiction)

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His hands were not bound but he could not move. He was not gagged; not exactly, but he could not speak or see or hear, barely. Everything seemed so calm, though. There was no panic as he thought there would be. His heart hammered in his chest and that was all that he could focus on. He frowned as he wondered why that was suddenly all that he could feel as well. Something was missing.
She shook him harder. “Breathe.” She said in a commanding tone. He concluded that she had said so a few times before. He must not have heard her before.
Jim filled his lungs with air; sucking it in as if he were starving for it. Naomi smiled.
“There you go.” She said soothingly. She touched his hair as she looked down at him. Jim looked up at her unaware of the affect that his helpless expression was having on her. She smiled again.
He saw her upside down. To his right and left he could feel her thighs on his ears as she knelt above his head. Her weight was currently resting on her feet which were folded beneath her bottom.
She had previously been sitting over him, smothering him slightly with her loveliness. He was not entirely sure when she lifted herself off or how long she sat.
“Wha…” Jim licked his lips as his mouth was suddenly very dry. “What happened?”
Jim watched Naomi’s dark red lips move as she spoke.
“I reminded you to breathe. I was sure that you had enough room to, but I do not think that you heard me. I decided to check on you.”
“Did I pass out?” Jim asked. He heard his voice as he spoke but he was not sure how she was able to hear him. He was speaking so softly and meekly. He was surprised at the small sound that his voice seemed to favor at the moment.
Naomi was still smiling and touching his hair gently. He tried to resist the urge to moan at her caress, but he failed. He moaned softly and began to blush, feeling embarrassed. But when he looked at her face, he did not know what he was so embarrassed about. She looked as if she almost expected him to react this way to her touch.
“No.” She said answering his question. “But when I looked at you, you looked so… You seemed spaced out, conscious, but in another world entirely.”
“Subspace.” Jim said before he had a chance to stop himself.
Naomi nodded. “You told me about that. How do you know all of these new terms?”
“I read them somewhere on the internet.” Jim said, suddenly unable to remember where exactly he had read them or why he had done so.
“And?”
Jim could not answer her. He did not understand.
“Did you like it?”
“Well, I don’t know. I have never felt this way before. It is so strange. I–I don’t dislike it.”
Naomi smiled. “Do you want to do it again?”
Jim nodded immediately.

“Then you like it.”

Jim’s eyes went slightly wide. Of course he liked it; it made sense now. Why had he hesitated before?

She stopped touching his hair for a few moments. “I liked it.” She proclaimed. Jim was a bit shocked. He had though that she would find it weird or disgusting. He had not expected that she would even try it. Even when she agreed, he thought she was just doing it because he wanted to. But he was wrong. She actually enjoyed it!

“I like what it does to you. I like the way it makes you look at me.” He could tell by her smile that he was still looking at her in that way that she liked. “I definitely want to do it again.”

Jim thought as he gazed up at her. How had this all happened? It started as a simple conversation about the things he had been reading. Anything that they did usually began as a simple conversation. Jim and Naomi met in history class. They were both fifteen minutes early and after only three minutes, they were talking politics and quiet studying spots on campus. Jim was good at talking but he was never very good at putting his ideas into action. Naomi was great at that. Sometimes if he wasn’t careful what he said around her, he would end up willingly doing something that he had previously had no interest in. She had a hold over him that way.

He couldn’t resist her direction and he could never bring himself to complain about it.

“Are you ready?” Naomi asked raising up onto her knees.

Jim raised his eyebrows. “You meant now?”

Naomi nodded as she began to lower herself slowly over his face. The light faded away as he felt her come into contact with him. He could feel her warmth. He could smell her arousal. He felt surrounded by her. He couldn’t imagine anything better.

Naomi’s hand stroking his chest reminded him that he should breathe as he lost all train of thought again.

–Miss Ari ^_^

 

For stories from my personal relationship, see my other blog.

Bad Advice Part 4: Strap-on Play (the Concept)

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This post may be very closely related to another post of mine where I discuss some of the ideas that I consider to be problematic in FemDom literature. Most (if not all) of the bad advice associated with strap-on play comes from erotic stories.

There are a number of sites (“vanilla” and “kinky” alike) that offer advice for anal play but, some how, as soon as the idea is introduced into a FemDom story, all precaution is forgotten.

That said, safety is not even the biggest issue in these stories. The biggest issue is a false representation of FemDom. In a majority of the FemDom stories I have read, strap-on’s are portrayed as a way to stand in for something that the dominant woman lacks. A penis.

I am not at all stating that there is anything wrong with having such an organ, but there certainly is something wrong with the idea that the lack of one is looked down upon. By this definition, every woman is made to seem inadequate and the only way that she can be truly dominant, is by means of a false phallus.

I will admit that this reasoning is hard to detect at first. I first noticed it when I read a phrase in a short story where the Dominant Woman states that she is sorry that she doesn’t have anything for him to swallow. (just imagine the context)

Why should she be sorry for something like that? How could she feel the need to apologize for not being a man? This is not at all what FemDom is about. FemDom is about fulfilling the will of the female. If that will includes her enjoying him in this way, then that is her decision. The strap-on is a tool of convenience for the woman. It is not a way for the woman to seek her dominance through taking on the form of a man.

–Miss Ari ^_^

 

P.S. Not all FemDom literature experiences are bad ones. Here is a link to a short story that I did enjoy, sent to me by one of my blog’s followers. Enjoy.

P.P.S. For stories from my personal relationship, see my other blog.

 

We Like to Lay Together (fiction)

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We like to spend time together. I demand it at least once a day.

It’s so wonderful for us to enjoy each others company this way, but my husband has a very low attention span.

I decided very early on that he would have to learn to be patient and remain still when I find it necessary. But I still don’t know if he has learned. I bought the ropes to train him, but now I like them too much and I still keep him in them. I like the helplessness that he displays when I tie him to one of the bed posts. When his legs and arms are restrained and cannot move, he cannot decide what happens next. He can only look at me to try and figure out what I am thinking. What I want. His eyes watch the gestures that I make. He knows what will happen if I go to the closet; that’s where I keep my box. He knows that if I leave the room, I will probably not come back for a few hours. Most times I’ll just lay on the bed with him, though.

We like to lay together. It is so fun to tease him when we lay together, too. Often times I’ll let my feet play over his naked skin and watch as he shivers. I trace down his neck and chest with my finger nails and smile as he shudders. I caress him and am always pleased when he trembles and moans. He’s just so amusing to play with!

Sometimes I release him while he is still panting and needy and I send him out of the room to do some chore. Sometimes I get my satisfaction first.

But most times I keep him all night long, because we like to lay together.

–Miss Ari ^_^

 

For stories from my personal relationship, see my other blog.

A Man That Provides (A Poem)

tumblr_mhkc4j8x0s1rgsoq1o1_400I grew up with those girls in cherry red laces,
With snow white bows, and soft pretty faces,
And I’ll swear to you over and over again,
Than I can’t possibly be any different than them.

They desire a mate that’s strong not lame,
And to some extent, I swear I’m the same,
They prepare and train and work all their lives,
In order to gain a man that provides.

If I set my standards to a scale of ten,
Manners would appear again and again,
I would not stand for ill manner or rudeness, besides,
A girl only wishes her man would provide.

I’ve picked out his duties, his jobs and more,
I will need him able, to complete the chores,
He must be obedient and provide patient features,
And if he were docile, that wouldn’t hurt either.

For the best results, I guess I must lead,
But it will be quite easy indeed,
He’ll learn when to shut his mouth to survive,
I want nothing more than a man who provides.

So don’t you see? It’s not much that I ask.
I believe I’ve requested the simplest task,
These submissive men are in large supply,
It is easy to find man that provides.

–Miss Ari ^_^

 

This poem was inspired in part by my own experiences of hearing what was desired around me and thinking that I wanted the same thing. And of course, I could say that I want a man that provides just like the other women but, I never really did want what they want. My ideal man provided different things than theirs did. I think a lot of women are like this. They are holding back and trying to fit their wants and their needs into the empty spaces of societies puzzle, but sooner or later they will find that it doesn’t work.

And when that day comes, it will all make sense.

–Miss Ari ^_^

Bring Me a Chair! (an erotic story)

chairThere was something about the way she said those words that made his heart, his head, and everything between his legs lurch with excitement. Their relationship was a pretty normal one. Miss made most of their decisions since they have been living together, but other than that they behaved just like any other couple. They laughed, they cried, the fought, they made love. But the four words that he practically lived to hear came only once in a while.

Miss had had a bad week. He could tell. He had tried to stay out of her way to avoid her temper until she calmed down but it seems that she would not be calming down by herself. Her lovely brown eyes scrunched slightly as she looked over at him. She had a towel wrapped around her body as she stepped out of the bathroom and she let it fall to the floor at her feet. Matt didn’t try to hide his lust as he looked over her supple frame. He was lost in the smooth brown of her skin that hugged every luscious curve of her body. Her hair was wet and it was curling up around her face. His breathing was heavy and he could feel his pale face flushing deep red. He wanted to go up to her and take her in his arms and kiss every inch of her body. He wanted to take her, but his body was not under his own power. It was under hers. And her gaze told him not to move.

So he stood there, waiting, hoping and wishing that she would say his favorite words. Those words that he loved to hear. His gaze lingered at her mouth, and for a minute, he thought he saw a smile.

Then she parted her sweet lips. “Bring me a chair”. He knew better than to hesitate. He went straight to the corner of their bed room where there sat a dark brown wood chair with a red velvet covered seat cushion. He careful lifted the chair and sat it next to where she stood.

His hands were almost shaking with nervousness. He never knew what to expect when she said those words. Images of what had occurred in the past in that chair were like a blur in his mind. He remembered kneeling in front if the chair pleasuring her, and he remembered Miss sitting in the chair as he lay over her lap receiving punishment. A lot of times, she had him stand behind the chair and bend over it. She seemed to like that position. But perhaps he liked it more.

He always felt ashamed of liking the things that happened in that position, but he had a feeling that she already knew that. He loved how well Miss could read him. And he loved that chair because it meant quality time with her. He loved those words. But he loved her next words even more.

“Strip and kneel!”…

–Miss Ari ^_^

 

For stories from my personal relationship, see my other blog.

I’m Taking You With Me

Will you follow, or are you too afraid?

Will you follow, or are you too afraid?

You’ve made a terrible mistake, My darling.

For being so good at these things that I ask of you. For knowing me so well after only a few short months. It was a terribly wonderful mistake because now I’m taking taking you with me.

It is not a question, My dear man,

but if it were, I know your answer would be “Yes, Miss!”, so it is actually better for me to simply tell you that I am taking you with me.

I am going to so many wonderful places,

Some I may just visit and some I may stay a while, but each one will be grand. I am going to the end of the earth and (perhaps) back. And you don’t have to say anything, My sweet, for I know that you will follow me all the way. And that is why I’m taking you with me.

I am so happy to see how confused you are now.

We will count the days together until you finally see the glory of what I have allowed of you, treasured slave. What I have allowed now that I’m taking you with me.

Don’t worry about your inexperience, though. I already know of it and I am willing to teach you when I take you with me.

Don’t worry of the key to your new silver collar, My beloved. We will mot need it now that I have decided that I’m taking you with me.

Don’t worry of what others will think, My pet, none of their opinions will matter anymore when we get started.

And don’t worry that I will become bored of you, My pet.

I have bought fair for an endless journey seated left of my desires and right of my passions.

And aren’t you so glad that I’m taking you with me?

–Miss Ari ^_^

At the Feet of an Angel (a short story)

I found this image a few days ago, and I knew that I had to do something with it.

I found this image a few days ago, and I knew that I had to do something with it.

He knows his place, On his knees at five am

It shouldn’t be long now, The rays of the sun are already peaking up at the horizon

And here she comes, His heart beats fast and his folded hands tremble

He forces his gaze to the ground, But he doesn’t need to see anyway

He knows the image like the back of his hand.

She was short really, but from his point of view, she is tall. Her hair was long and dark, the opposite of her milky complexion. Her clothing was always white, like the angel she was, and it was always off by the time she entered his apartment. She glided through the open sliding glass doors. As soon as the porch was no longer beneath her feet, her long white skirt fell away. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her.

Working the buttons of her blouse with her slender fingers

Morning light poured over her frame, softening the edges of her silhouette

She stepped closer to him, Standing before him, and he was at her feet

He could feel her watching him, His skin sizzled with the desire to see her

To see her long legs encased in the white pantyhose, 

To see the small tuff of black pubic hair hidden beneath the material,

But he knew better than to look. She rubbed the toe of her heel against his hair gently. The heel was made of clear materials, and made it look as if she were walking on the air. He leaned his face over to her foot and kissed it once, then twice. Again and again he kissed her, alternating from one clear high heel to the other. Until he felt her shift.

She lifted her foot and he slid her shoes off, as slowly as she taught him

She stepped away form him and he followed her down the hall, on his hands and knees

She was faster than he was this way, and when he finally caught up he couldn’t help himself

He let his eyes travel over her curvy frame, draped across his couch almost nude

When his eyes met hers she frowned impatiently, and he lowered his gaze feeling ashamed. His Angel only comes when she can, how dare he waist her precious time with his wondering eyes. He knelt by where she lay and she took his head in her hands, gently guiding him downward. She was right, he thought, the sun was almost up and he did not have very much more time

He began at her feet, like he always did.

Using his hands, using his lips

Easing the tension from her skin, pulling the sadness from her core

From her lips escaped soft sighs, each sigh that came out of her went straight into him

They filled him with desire and need and urgency

But all he showed was the gentleness that she had taught him

He planned and planted each kiss on her nylon clad legs

He caressed and massaged her soft flesh

Forever, it seemed, for eternity it felt like, his lips never left her 

Soft sunlight poured in through the window as day broke

His heart felt heavy, as his kisses began to miss

There was nothing that he could do, though, this is just how it was

He stayed at her feet for as long as he could, but it was inevitable

She was fading, but he told himself that she would be back, of course she would

She would return.

He kept kissing until his lips touched the cushion of the couch, and he sighed opening his eyes to find her gone.

He stood, feeling hollow in his own home. Feeling unlike a person, unlike a human, he felt like air.

As air he floated back to the sliding glass doors and found nothing on the floor. Every evidence of her presence was gone now, it almost felt as if she was never there.

But he knew that she was. He could feel it,

And he knew that she would return, he could feel that also.

He could feel that he would once again be where he belonged, at the feet of an Angel.

–Miss Ari ^_^

A Word About Erotic FemDom Stories

flickr domme heelsI can see the use for FemDom literature and I have written and read my fair share of Literotica or the BDSMLibrary, or what have you, but i always seem to see similar problems in these stories. (Warning: this post may be a bit of a rant)

Number one# There is little creativity

FemDom stories seem to come in limited types, black mail, spontaneous dream come true, I’ve read them all and I am getting a little bored.

Number two# The Dommes don’t ask this question

“Do you belong to anyone?” Just a little pet peeve that I have, and that I see a lot is when a Domme finds a submissive man and forces him into activities without first considering if he is someone else’s property. I don’t mind pushing to the front of the crowd but people tend to get upset when you have to step on their toes. This kind of thing in reality could cause a lot of social drama.

Number three# The women don’t have good reason

I guess this plays back into Number One. the creativity in this area is pitiful. A woman getting back at her cheating partner, a colleague she hates, or  something else of the sort. Very rarely do I read a story where the woman decides to dominate a man because she actually likes him.

Number four# There is no after care

A scene plays out, the woman dominates the man, and then just leaves him there lying on the ground or even still tied up. I’ve read many of these stories and I can’t say that I have enjoyed them. The women in these stories obviously don’t care that their “temporary slave” is also a person who, most likely, is completely mind blown by what just happened. I personally do not like the idea of casual BDSM but if I did participate in it, in real life, leaving a person in subspace can have fatal impacts on their psychological mind.

Number five# The man falls in love with someone he does not know

Just to piggy back off of the last one, in these stories the two (or sometimes more) people don’t know each other before they start a scene. For the submissive, the scene is emotional and the subspace that they experience can bring about an attachment to the woman who not only is basically a stranger, but also does not feel the same way. As a responsible Domme, you should be careful who you play with in order to prevent a Fatal Attraction.

These are only five of the things that I have found and i am sure that i’ll do a follow up post with more examples. It really bothers me, though, because it is all for entertainment and obviously most people know better, but for the people who don’t know better, or are just getting into BDSM, they might take these stories as realities. Accidents will happen and as an author, I would not want to be responsible.

–Miss Ari ^_^

 

For stories from my personal relationship, see my other blog.