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 ^_^

The Hardest Part About This Blog

Class is not restricted by age.

Class is not restricted by age.

By far the pictures. I often find it difficult to find a picture depicting both elegance and female power. Most of the FemDom photos that can be found are vulgar to say the least. And a fair amount of picture of women in hosiery are of the same context. I need pictures that depict that hosiery is sexy, yes, but I also need pictures that do not make it seem sleazy.

This blog is restricted to the pictures of poise; of confident woman that know how to handle themselves in a manner that exceeds outsider opinions.

This is not something that I will settle on. I will not give in to something that is just okay. I will scavenge for the strong and accurate pictures. These days, we could use more determination in our lives even if we only start with something that may seem small.

I am not afraid to go first. I choose photos of the gentle prowess of the dominant woman and the men who love them.

–Miss Ari ^_^

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.

Why the Hosiery?

Isn't it clear that I have expectations of you, My dear boy?

Isn’t it clear that I have expectations of you, My dear boy?

“What is the use for hosiery in the FemDom practice? There is nothing on the list of FemDom uses for pantyhose that cannot simply be done with a few purchases from a BDSM site. So why even own a pair?”

These are questions I’ve never been asked, but I’m sure someone has thought of. To many women, the answer is obvious, but for those of you whom are still perplexed, let me explain.

Something happens in the mind of a woman when she suits herself up from head to toe in leather; when she covers with skins that are not her own, when she goes through her toy box for whatever flogger will be her favorite for the evening. Something changes as she transforms herself into the image that she believes to be a dominant woman. Often times she may loose herself completely. She will become a personality that she will immediately toss aside as soon as she sheds herself of the leather corset. It is difficult to see the problem here at first, because there should be nothing wrong with being a dominant woman. She may be completely in control throughout the whole ‘scene’. She will break her slave an remind him to whom he belongs, but when this dominant woman sets down her whip, she has lost all of that. The activities that took place are now in the past and will not reoccur until the leather is back on her body. In essence, this woman is not dominant at all; she is just a really good actress. 

When female domination happens without these things present, then they are not associated with her dominance. Suddenly it was not the paddle in her hand that made her so intimidating; suddenly it was not the crotchless leather pants, or the whip, or the dildo that made her so dominant. It was just her. Every dominant woman needs to be reminded that the things that she thought were essential in order to be a good Domme, were not needed at all. All that was needed was her. 

So why the essential pantyhose, then?

Well, for one it is a confidence booster. But not in the same way as fetish wear is. Unless you are a dominatrix, you would not wear your fetish wear all day long. She would, however, wear hosiery to work or shopping or whatever else she enjoys. She did not have to change what she looks like in order to act like a dominant woman later on in the evening. She COULD have been dominant at any point in the day. She simply chose not to. 

Other than that, hosiery give the illusion of flawlessness. It shows femininity with any ensemble. It shows modesty (even if it is partly satirical). And it shows that she has class and is to be respected. 

If I had it my way, everyone would understand this. But since we all already have an agreement, I just thought I’d explain.

–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 ^_^