My First YouTube Video: First Thoughts on Control

I just posted my first YouTube video!

The title is "First Thoughts on Control - Recognizing Abuse and Encouraging Negotiation" and it's aimed at people interested in control play in the bedroom. I do not think I have necessarily original thoughts on BDSM subjects, but I believe that every voice helps when it comes to encouraging safety and sanity, even in the context of for-pay BDSM over the phone.

I have more a generic intro "Hello World" video that I should post first, but upon re-watching it, I need to add one significant thought to it before I post it, and I've already stalled on posting these long enough (I recorded it 10 days ago). So I pulled on my big girl panties and pretended like it's okay to do things out of sequence.

(That screaming you hear? Several of my more particular Inner Voices throwing fits about posting things out of sequence...)

If it gets yanked from YouTube for being adult content, that's fine, I'll upload it elsewhere and re-do the link here, but for now, this embedded player should work (fingers crossed...):



If the embedded player doesn't work, here's the link instead: First Thoughts on Control - Recognizing Abuse and Encouraging Negotiation

Although the video does not reflect me in phone-sex / sexy-time mode, it does reflect me being all reflective and thoughtful, so for those of you who get turned on smart thoughts from smart people, you're welcome!

(many thanks to Domme Kyaa for posting her Philosophy of a Fem Domme series, which was the original inspiration for me to do these - I can't find the original links anymore, but the one linked is representative of her work)

Summer Fling

I Heart Summer Flings

I started my non-mainstream sexual explorations as a submissive, and have morphed into a switch-leaning-dominant. This week, I invested a tremendous amount of energy and passion in my femdom identity, defending and celebrating male submissives not only on my blog, but also on comments on other blogs that were apparently intelligent enough to be requoted.

So what was the perhaps inevitable response of the universe to ensure my life remains in balance? I had one of the craziest, most intense whirlwinds ever with ... wait for it ... a new dominant male caller.

Everyone who saw that coming, raise your hand. Hmmm, everybody, huh? In retrospect, the only surprise is that I was surprised.

The day we met, he called me twice, for a total of (never remind 'em how much they've spent on you) minutes. He greeted me warmly enough, but when his voice changed to tell me what to do, I felt my Inner Submissive shove her way to the front of the bus to drive, giggling and clapping like a lunatic.

He asked me if I can come without touching myself. When I groaned and laughed a little, he asked what I meant by that, clearly intrigued.

Me: Because if I tell you I can, you'll make me do that, but I really want to be touching myself already, but I haven't because I know you haven't told me to, but you probably won't let me shove this vibrator inside myself if I tell you I can come touchless...

Him: And what gets you over that edge?

Me: Ohgod that's not fair. (he laughs) Don't laugh at me. (we both laugh) It's... ummm... the command, you telling me to, the intensity of it, the intention behind it, if it has enough energy behind it... if I'm there in my mind...

Him: Well. That's a pretty red flag for you to wave for me, isn't it? How long do you think I'll wait before I give you that command? Will I make you beg to have an orgasm like a bitch in heat?

My Entire Inner Cast: OH FUCK.

He had me stand in front of the mirror, wearing only my panties, hands behind my head, appraising my own flesh, when he gave the command to climax, and ordered at me to keep my eyes open and watch myself come. It didn't feel like a script, it felt like something he was inspired to do by my responses.

It only got more intense from there.

I went to bed exhausted and dizzy, but happy.

We spoke again early the next afternoon, soon after I woke up. His first words, obviously full of genuine concern, "I read your blog. Be honest. Did I make you dizzy last night?"

My Entire Inner Cast: Awwwwww /sniffle

During that call, I hoped sincerely he had read this blog post about Love, The English Language, And Not Completely Pretending, and this one about the ways sometimes words tumble out of my mouth If I Call You "Love" because at one point he asked me how I felt, and I mumbled the crazy answer that was bouncing around in my head...

"When you call me a whore, it sounds like you're telling me you love me..."

Seriously. I said that to him. We had been talking for less than 24 hours. Fucking insane.

Thankfully, he seems to be a version of lunacy which is compatible with mine, because his response was to tell me say it again. Louder. And again, even louder. And again. Louder, you fucking whore, again. Each time, I grew more horrified and embarrassed at the ridiculous words I was shoving out of my throat, and simultaneously, more thoroughly convinced that the sentiment was true. I paused, my voice ragged, shaking to hear his response.

"Listen to yourself. A brainy sub trying to get a single sentence out, forced to enunciate it clearer and louder even as the sentence grabs your pussy and your heart and squeezes for all it's worth? How could I not love you?"

It wasn't a commitment to a future together, to any traditional use of the word love, or to anything at all other than a mutual appreciation of a really fantastic connection at a truly amazing moment in time.

Well, no, that's probably not true. There probably was a commitment, just a bizarre one: that both of us will probably always remember the way we were able to crash into each others' desires and feel delightfully alive in the wreckage we somehow created in each other.

I wrote him afterward, telling him the rest of the story I only partially told this blog post about my first BDSM lover, I Know Why:

... but what that entry doesn't explain is that moment when I was tied to a door frame, flogged bright red across my ass and back, with a vibrating egg trapped in my panties to ensure I was being properly conditioned to associate pain and pleasure, when he pressed himself against me, my entire backside on fire from the touch of his skin after the flogging, slid one hand around to my breast, and with the other hand, held my head up in a bit of a choke so I could feel him whisper-growl into my ear as his fingers pinched electricity through me,

"good girl"

... and I felt the world go black and I felt a wave of power, of certainty, of pride. I knew I could take it, more than I knew I could stand, and more. Much more. I knew I was strong. I knew I was adventuresome. I knew I was sexy. And I felt huge, as if I had grown, and I wanted more with a hunger that made me feel like I could eat the world.

... and that was the moment I knew that I would be okay, no matter what.

His response was to tell me to find a publisher. Isn't that sweet? Wait, how can I associate the word sweet with anything at all in this fucked-up blog post? Oh, I know, I can call this sweet, where he quoted a paragraph from that blog post:

I had worked so hard in therapy to take responsibility for my feelings and my actions. I had worked so hard professionally to teach myself technically and be in a position of leadership. I had worked so hard socially to choose friends who gave as much as they took, and treated me with respect. And I had worked so hard personally to admit to myself that I needed to leave the man I thought I’d be with for the rest of my life.

And he told me "This Galiana that you created shows your work."

I totally didn't cry when I read that. I mean, it's not like I had been fucked loony for hours on end or anything, so why would that make me cry?

He only plays with phone sex every once a while, in little bursts like this, then he disappears. For weeks. Or months. When he told me he was going away, probably for a good, long time, it made absolute sense to me.

It was the perfect end-of-summer fling: passionate, intense, a lovely stroll down the sensory memory lane of my submissive roots, and cut short by logistical limitations before we ran out of the juice to sustain it and started disappointing each other. (That's totally where it would have gone, right? I mean, I'm not just being cynical here, am I? Don't crazy intense firestorms always end that way? Can I tell myself that anyway, even if it's not true? Thanks.)

There are times I appreciate my life so much that I ache with joy.

In Celebration of the Male Submissive

from malesubmissionart.com

I have been reading a conversation on the web about male submissives, which almost led to a blog post title of "Heartbreak and the Male Submissive" but I decided, instead, to celebrate, in addition to empathizing.

It started with @maymaym (the guy behind the visual-celebration-of-male-submission site: http://malesubmissionart.com/) posting a link to this incredibly well-written piece discussing how often members of the BDSM scene devalue male submissives, even while valuing female dominants: http://www.labcoatlingerie.com/2011/08/09/the-cost-of-devaluing-male-submission-one-token/ This particular conversation goes back further on the internet, but that's where I joined it.

Then tonight, maymay posted a related link, from KinkInExile, who had responded to Professor Chaos, with something equally well-written, about being a geek female dominant who breaks stereotypes and has a hard time finding a male submissive partner, here: http://kinkinexile.wordpress.com/2011/09/01/what-she-said/

Since I just linked to other posts which may cause track backs here, I need to give a bit of context for who I am, why I am joining this conversation, and why I feel qualified to empathize with and celebrate male submission.

For most of my 30s, I was a polyamorous submissive, and marginally active in the BDSM scene in Austin. Professionally, I was a data analyst who became an IT Manager. So I am a geek, I love geeks, I love managing geeks, and I have fucked many an awesome geek. Also, I'm a leader outside of the bedroom.

Then I came down with a rare neurological vertigo which debilitated me from doing IT work, and I became a phone sex operator to pay the bills. I swear this is relevant, please hang with me for a few more paragraphs.

I started professional phone sex, naturally enough, with a listing as a submissive woman, but kept getting calls from clever submissive men who had discovered via trial-and-error that convincing a submissive woman to top you can sometimes turn out pretty well, because they tend to be empathetic.

As with any supply and demand situation, when the demand (for female domination) outstrips the free supply (and it does), a for-pay market is created. I was stunned to discover how many male submissives felt unable to get their needs met in the flesh for free, despite the best efforts of many of them to join kink groups and form healthy femdom/malesub relationships.

And many of the for-pay options in the web cam and phone sex world involve women who project a message of "I rule, you suck" which (a) perpetuates anti-male-submissive bias and (b) is a giant turnoff for many smart male submissives.

I was heartbroken. I am heartbroken. It pisses me off and makes me sad.

As a natural leader who found tremendous release in sexual submission myself, I have deep empathy for those who seek the delicious miles-away-from-the-rest-of-my-life of subspace. I get why it's awesome fun to float along on the waves of someone else's decisions. Plus, as a sensation slut and a pain slut, I understand those tendencies when they pop up for men, too.

So I put on my learning cap, discovered the phrase "service top" (a dominant whose pleasure comes primarily from enjoying their partner's pleasure), and set out to be the best dominant female I could be.

Guess who now has a full-fledged fetish for hearing men beg? Me.

Guess who has had so many delicious orgasms while dominating men over the phone that now the image of a man's hands with rope around them gets me instantly thumpy? Me, me, me, me, me. Seriously. Yum. I can't help it. I accidentally conditioned myself to be a switch.

And guess who is now considering collaring a service submissive? Me.

(By the way, never break the news to someone that you are considering collaring them in a public blog post. I mean, I never would. Pffff. That's ridiculous. That would leave him to sweat for hours wondering if it was really him I was talking about, even though he would know it was, and let his emotions build up to a fever pitch before he gets to talk to me, and who would want that, right?)

To be fair, I had switchy tendencies back in my slut days, too - I had spanked and flogged men, I had fucked several guys with strap-ons (not necessarily submissive, but often so), I had been the de facto leader in threesomes, and I had taken control of many an erotic activity without asking permission to do so.

Also, I'm pretty damn good at topping from the bottom if I do say so myself. Was that a scene negotiation, or a carefully laid path of stuff I'm dying for you to do to me? Both.

The anonymity of paid phone sex can facilitate confessions on a deeply intimate level. I have heard the struggles of many who swim against the cultural currents of male machismo and the expectations for male domination, and I have felt empathy in my gut, as strongly as I have felt empathy with women who have been molested or raped. I get it. I care.

I know male submissives who have been abused by selfish, untrustworthy, unsafe women masquerading as Dominas. And I know male submissives who have been enraptured by safe, sane, consensual play, and longstanding loving relationships. The play itself isn't the problem - the problem is when abusive people hide behind a facade of play to perpetrate abuse.

I know male submissives who have been devalued or rejected by BDSM communities. And I know male submissives who have been honored, valued, respected members of BDSM communities. The scene itself isn't the problem - the problem is when insensitive or abusive people hide behind a facade of majority orientation to be insensitive or abusive.

Every voice that speaks out in celebration of male submissives helps the conversation. Tonight, the urge to join the conversation overwhelmed me. I had to join.

I know I'm suspect because I do this for pay. And I get why that makes me suspect. I know I can't lead this conversation because I'm commercial.

But I also know that KinkInExile asks, "Where are the [dominant women] that _like_ sex, and respect their partners?" and I wanted to answer her: I see them. They're out there. I see them growing up, branching out. I see KinkInExile, and I see Professor Chaos, and I see subcommunities on reddit having intelligent conversations about guys who want to bend over for their girlfriends, or be tied up, or experiment with control, or experiment with pain.

I see the women in polyamorous relationships who switch in their primary partners, who then offer caring responsible professional domination services to a few close friends as a part-time day job while the kids are at school. Seriously, I took a workshop from two women in Austin who fit that description.

And I personally know five women who considered themselves sexually submissive before becoming web cam / phone sex operators, who got talked into topping and figured out we fucking *love* it. That's offline, off the phones, talking amongst ourselves, behind the curtain, women who care about our callers, admitting to each other how much we enjoy controlling men sexually. No, we don't necessarily love every kink that comes our way, but we have found some form(s) of control play irresistibly sexy.

I believe we are in an age of unprecendented plurality, where ideas are ever-easier to access. The way to help more women get in touch with their inner loving dominant is for dominant women to continue to talk about their pleasure, in whatever forums you have, with honesty and openness, as best as you can.

Ideas spread. They may spread slowly, but imagine how much greater the chances are now of forming a healthy femdom/malesub relationship than even just 20 years ago. I remember 1991 - I was 21 - and how little information I had available to me. My mind boggles.

KinkInExile also asks, "And yet what does it mean for me in this world that the person I want to play with most, that beautiful strong geeky smart sexually submissive man, comes wounded because the world got to him before I had a chance?"

And I reply, "Thank goodness you're there for him, to help him find healing, when you find him (or them)." Oh, and also, there are metric fuck-tons of them out there, I promise. Have you been to reddit?

In the meantime, the way to help more men accept their submissive tendencies, and for more communities to value male submission more highly, is for submissive men to continue to talk about their pleasure, in whatever forums you have, with honesty and openness, as best as you can.

I'm so so so so so sorry that it's so so so so so fucking hard for you. I really am.

So that's the heartbreak.

Here is the celebration:

I love the way a man's breath catches when my voice slows a bit, and I tell him to put his hands behind his back.

I love male groans of pleasure mixed with pain.

I love looking into a man's eyes and seeing absolute trust that although I may hurt him, I will not harm him; although I may cause him pain, I will not cause him damage, and I would rather cut off my own hand than betray such a trust.

I love feeling the rush of power when a man is begging to be allowed to have an orgasm, and the exquisite suffering when I tell him, "no, darling, not yet."

I love seeing a man deep-throat a dildo, and then glow with pride when I tell him that was well done.

I love hearing the guttural sounds a man makes when he is fucking himself in the ass because I told him to.

I love, love, love, love, love, more than I can express, the sound of relief and gratitude in a man's voice when we have experienced pleasure together at my direction.

And I love, love, love, love, love, more than I can express, how badass it makes me feel to dominate a man to the point where I get to hear that relief and gratitude. Those of you who have let me feel that way, thank you.

Ms Galiana Reborn

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Video: Paralegal Humiliation and Blackmail

You've been a bad boy, haven't you? First, you took credit for my work on the case, then you lied to me about your marital status, and last, but certainly not least, you are working with a seriously under-equipped little partner there in your pants, aren't you?

Tell you what, you just sit back and enjoy this video conference call where I do a strip tease for you on company time, and I'll make sure and save it with no audio so HR and the senior partners can get a good long look at it, if you don't give me what I'm demanding...

I was in quite a mood when I shot this video, thinking of a caller who is a lawyer (and I used to do litigation support, so the jargon is actually legit), who will likely be both horrified and fascinated by it. The humiliation includes legal incompetence as well as small penis humiliation. I think I had some leftover hostility from my old job!

I know there are more images in the gif than usually available for most clips that only run 6:22, but I had a ton of fun shooting it, and couldn't choose only a few looks.

I think I look kind of adorable in this one, if I do say so myself, but what I'm saying definitely shows that I'm not someone you want on your bad side!

It's available for $7 via NiteFlirt: