I find it interesting that as everyone dicusses what D/s means to them, from a male or female perspective, the entire conversation pretty much revolves around tolerance of pain during play. (the extremes)

I don't want to preach, but putting so much emphasis on pain and play is like saying a slice of pepperoni can be called a pizza. Don't get me wrong, i love pepperoni, but there's so much to love about the whole pizza that often i've got more toppings than dough!

Something I've learned about this lifestyle, as i've slowly tried to figure out what all these different feelings of submission in me are all about, is that the extreme is great, but there are so many tiny little things that are worth savouring in between.

Amanda, i suppose men and women are different, but true submission doesn't have to be all that different between genders. For play, there of course is the obvious, we men have extra bits down below so you may take advantage of that, but the phsychlogical things that go on in our heads when we are submitting i'd suggest are probably pretty close to being the same.

For me, i love it when a Domme has me do, or asks things of me that make absolutely no sense to me, other than "because that's the way she wants it." ie... have him kneel and hold a dime against the wall with his nose, perhaps while naked.

You choose the amount of time, and personally it drives me crazy if i'm left unnoticed for awhile. See, this task, can have no real purpose, but for one reason: "because that's what She'll have me do and i'd better do it."

It's funny, but for some reason, tasks that have no purpose but for what i mentioned above, really sinks me deep into subspace. It's not just the dime trick either. You can be as obvious or as subtle as you like.

Another example.... i was at a munch (munch = streetclothes gathering of kinkyfolk at a local restaurant in case you didn't know) with a Domme. We sat at a table amongst others and ordered some food. The munch was about an hour out of town for me, i'd had quite a long day and i'd not eaten since breakfast. I was starving! We all ordered at the table and a giant plate of wings arrived for me. The smell was delightful. As a habit, i make sure not to touch food until my Domme has had Her first bite, so i was waiting for my qeue. Before She took Her first bite, She quietly said to me "Sit on your hands boy."

There i sat, the smell of those chicken wings filling my nostrils and my stomach grumbling. A few taunts came from other Dommes at the table, and my Mistress barely gave me a second look. My mind was a buzz with question marks... will i get to eat... does She know my food is getting cold... has She forgotten about me? As time passed, everyone was finishing up their meal, and i still sat dilligently in perfect obedience. The waitress came by, looked at my plate and asked if there was something wrong with my meal. Still sitting on my hands, i was about to reply when my Mistress said, "He's not as hungry as he thought he was, don't worry about packing that up, we wont' be taking it home."
Out of the corner of my eye, i watched that heaping plate of wings be carried away destined for a garbage can. The searing eyes of my Mistress upon me, my stomach grumbling. My mind was a total mess, i was shaking and hard i'm sure, and i knew She was proud of me.

So you see, no whips, no crosses, no leather and i was in deep subspace. It's an absolutely amazing feeling and i'm addicted to it.

Think i'll pick up the phone and order some wings.... )

bent

ps... There's an author here who has written a few stories who seems to have a great knack for subtle mindfucking. Let me see if i can find a link... her name is Lady Blade.. she writes amazing stories...

http://www.bdsmlibrary.com/stories/s...p?storyid=1267