Playful Blogs

I’ve been fighting with myself and others wether or not I should post this. It’s not something I’m proud of. Not my shining moment in the sun to say the least. I’ve decided to post it because I’ve learned something from it:

I answered their ad that mentioned they were looking for a submissive male to perform service for them. It would start out with cleaning and chores with a chance that it would lead to more sexual play.

We exchanged emails a few times, I answered their list of questions and they decided to meet me. I was excited to say the least. Finding not one but two women for service AND play? It seemed too good to be true.

It was too good to be true.

They wanted to meet at a sushi place on the Upper East Side, I arrived ten minutes early. They arrived thirty minutes late.

As soon as we sat down they started asking about me and my search for a dominant. The tall blonde suggested I shouldn’t have moved to New York from the midwest since it wouldn’t be any easier for me to meet anyone here. She said it as though she was bringing something to light that I didn’t know.

We briefly talked about what growing up on a farm was like. After I mentioned the fact that my father had to sell some his land, the blonde said “NO! Never sell land! That’s just not smart. You never sell land!”. She was pretty much calling my father an idiot. As though he had a choice in the matter. As though he had options.

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell him that when I talk to him next”, I said politely as I could while being sarcastic.

They asked about my friends in the lifestyle. The tall blonde assumed I had been to a professional. I told her I had never been but I did have friends who are.

“What are their names? I have a beef with a few Pro Dommes”

“I’d rather not say. I don’t feel comfortable name-dropping. and I don’t think they’d appreciate me using their names as a reference without asking them first.” She looked angry and I added “If it’s a deal breaker, I understand”. The last thing I wanted was to get a call from a friend saying “Why is this nutjob calling me?”

I was then asked what my budget was for dinner.

“Um. Nothing? I’m sorry, I didn’t know you wanted me to pay for dinner. I won’t be eating anything since I’m tight on cash. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”

I was then told that it was a given that I would pay. “It’s just good manners”, the tall blonde said.

Later the brunette would tell me that she had never been on a date with a man who didn’t pay. She looked at me with disapproval.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was a date. I thought this was more of an interview for possible service. If you want me to go to the ATM and get twenty bucks I will”.

“See? That’s just rude. Then you’re putting the responsibility on me to say yes or no. You should just offer to do it”.

At that point I was glad that I didn’t go and get some cash. I was torn. I was trying to give them the benefit of the doubt as I hoped they were giving me. Maybe they were having a bad day or maybe they really hated me for some reason.

We talked about my experience with service. I mentioned my positives and negatives (folding fitted sheets). I mentioned how I wasn’t looking for play in return for service, that I’m not the type to make mistakes on purpose in hopes of being punished. If they wanted to play that would be great but I wanted them to know I enjoy service for the sake of pleasing. They seemed semi-interested but it was hard to read them. I mention that I was looking for someone who liked the idea of a man in service to them and not someone who didn’t care who did it as long as it got done.

We parted ways and I emailed them to thank them for their time and wished them luck on their search if they weren’t interested in me.

One of them replied saying: “I found you to be rude and cheap and your presence ruined my meal. It was a testament to charity and patience that I did not leave sooner.”

Oh? And what is it a testament to that you would send such an response to someone who just thanked you for your time?

I’m wondering why I didn’t just leave earlier. Why didn’t I excuse myself the second I realized they were not what I was looking for? Why did I give them the benefit of the doubt? It seemed clear fifteen minutes into it that they weren’t interested. Why do I consistently find myself in these situations and never learn to avoid them? The warning signs are there. I just need to open my eyes. Or not block my eyes with my cock.

It’s been a while since this happened. I’m not angry at them anymore nor am I hurt by the experience. I’m willing to accept blame for this one. I should have made it clear that I was in no position to pay for their meal before meeting them. We’re still living in a universe where some women will feel I need to pay them for the right to clean for them.

There are some dominant women who use their dominance as an excuse to treat men like they’re a dime a dozen (probably because we’re a dime a dozen).

The most rewarding service I’ve ever performed was to someone who required me to bring a receipt for anything I bought while in service. It was clear that my service was the important thing, not my money. I was providing what they saw was the most valuable thing possible: my sweat, dedication and sincerity.

The most rewarding sexual relationships I’ve had have been from those who wanted to be with me for my body or for my mind (sometimes both). Once again it was my sweat, dedication and sincerity that they valued most.

I have no clue where this comes from or what it’s for.

When there’s something this good it’s best not to ask questions.

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #153? Submit a link to your best post of the week by emailing me directly at radicalvixenatgmaildotcom Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Sugarbutch Star: Maze - The Girl in the Red Dress
“She’s the kind of girl who brings out the worst in me.”

treat or … fuck
“He looked like I had just given him a car for Christmas and he gently took my hand and led me upstairs. ”

A Life Exposed and Amplified
“We were breaking the rules and being dirty.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Sugar Bank

Editor’s Choice
I told him I loved him. He gave me a pen.

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above within a week. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Break On Through
Eiffel Tower
Fast Jenny
A Few Orgasms Before Bed
Geisha
Goodbye, my Love
lustlustlust
Mexican Girlfriend
Mixing business and pleasure
Mistaken Identity
Unblemished

Sex Advice
How to Have Anal Sex with a Big Penis
Is Fantasizing Wrong?
Is Sex Without Oral a Dealbreaker? You Decide.
Lasting Longer in Bed

NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio
Georgia Jones wants to go for a ride
HNT. Forest Nymph
HNT! (One more cherry, popped.)
Kamila - The Restoration
More from the knee socks series
PSA: Breast Cancer Awareness
Seductor

Sex Work
Dating Civilians 101

Sex News, Reviews, & Interviews
A New Twist on an Anal Sex Toy
On Tuesday, Vote for Equality

BDSM & Fetish
-3 Days
Bad Girl
The big dodge
Blind date: Impressions of a Dom
Dirty Boy
egg scissors
Do you want to cum? How bad?
Jake gets Punished in Spanking Movie
Kneeling In Style
Long Night in Thee Cow Shed
Marked: An Open Letter
Mistress by Proxy, part 2 : the slut
The New Bath Brush
Pimping him out
Pondering Piercings
Quickie

Sex Humour
Friday Poem: Achy Achy Cunt

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
HNT-Time
Hubby’s Halloween Hit. Confession #167
The Space Between

Two women, two stories

From a profile on collarme:

“I am a dominant woman who likes men that are out of control. I come from a religious Jewish background. I have a fetish for LEGITIMATE antisemitic men who are willing to submit to me. Bonus for skinheads or kkk or membership to anygroup like that. Prison records and recovering adicts are also a plus. Blue collar workers, rough around the edges young looking and thin are a must. You dont need to still be a complete mess…..but I need that in your past.

I am cute and thin (size 6) gym figure, pretty face and looking for young (under age 30) serriously real antisemitic, for humiliation play, lifestyle controls and ….possible ownership for the right person. Lets just say I have a fetish for extracting submission from people that out of control and may even hate me. No “yes mistress” types please…..I only get off on the reality of topping people who are really ambivalent about their surrender to me. Hate me, resent me….but do it from my feet and hate yourself more for your descent”

Can someone please explain this to me???

Anyone??

I’ve been encouraged to go to a Professional Dominatrix by a number of lifestyle friends. Not for the experience of playing with one but in the hopes that she would meet me and want to maker me her personal slave or boyfriend. I’ve talked about this subject before of course. Some have told me it’s a bad idea but many have proven that it actually does work. As I’ve mentioned before, a majority of submissive men I personally know in relationships, are former clients.

This subject popped in my brain again recently when a Pro I know mentioned it:

“I find that the BEST relationships are in fact those that go from client to personal. Because there is this anonymity that sessions allow and somehow encourage honesty. Then the bonds are slowly formed without any of the b.s. vanilla that tends to creep in and take away from what really forms that connection with the other person.”

Peridot Ash has me confused on the subject. In one post called “Angry About Clients Seeking Girlfriends” she writes:

“I told him the first time that I do not date my clients, and that includes dinner outside of sessions! Obviously he wasn’t listening when I said that he should keep trying the personals. When I said that it was not easy for me to find my boyfriend (I don’t really have a boyfriend, as you know, but it’s usually the only reason a man respects when it comes to you not wanting to date him), since most men would want me to quit and become their own personal 24/7 domina slave queen (hint, hint).”

Yet in another post she writes:

“Anyway, because he was so attractive, I did what many johns do when they fancy the looks of their paid companion: began conjuring up fantasies of dating, molding him into my perfect little submissive anal sex boy just because I thought he was attractive, not wondering at all about the life he leads in reality. But catching a glimpse of his wedding ring pretty much put a stop to my predatory thoughts.”

Speaking as someone who’d love to be molded into the perfect little submissive almost-any-kind-of-sex boy, my eyebrows raised a bit on this one.

I should say that I’m no where near being in a situation that would allow me to become a client or a boyfriend for that matter, but the day may come where I am. If that day ever does come I’ll have to consider becoming a client and hope that she’ll find me attractive enough to want to mold me.

This is crazy.   I had no clue I was gay until I conversed with a woman recently who suggested I was into guys because I like the idea of a woman with a strap-on.    

Then, a reader sent me a link to this video (fast forward to 2:20)

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Anna David does try to say that it only matters who you kiss but then says it’s “on the line” (of making me gay??) and that most women would be freaked out by it.

Based on this logic, any lesbian who likes strap-on play with her female partner is really heterosexual.  

And to think that I’ve been fooling myself by looking at images like this and thinking I was heterosexual all this time.

I went to two different Halloween parties, two very different experiences but both very good.

All week I looked and looked for something that goes with this:

Someone suggested PVC pants but I’ve never worn PVC before. Others said black jeans would do. One person suggested I go without pants entirely.

I went for the usual: Leather pants and a black t-shirt. My homage to Steve Jobs and every hair band from the 80’s.

The first party was filled with warm friendly faces, big smiles, great costumes (other than my own) and good conversation. It’s one of those places where you know you’ll be around the kind of people you’d bring with you if you were going to colonize mars. Someone greeted me and I had no clue who it was at first since she was covered from head to toe in latex. I found myself in a circle of friends talking about everything from bad movie ideas to politics.

There was a moment where I had a brief out of body experience, realizing how very different things were for me now compared to when I first move to New York and didn’t know anyone. I felt lucky, grateful and warm. Thanksgiving came on Halloween.

Afterwards I headed to smack. Smack is a massive fetish party featuring people in latex, leather and anything else you can imagine. It’s important to note that it’s more fetish than bdsm. There’s some play going on but it’s mostly for show. There I was, a guy going to a fetish party with two of my best friends, one dressed as a sexy wild strawberry and the other as a seductive geisha. There are few things better than watching your friend dressed as a strawberry get her groove on while guys stare from across the room.

A few people were engaged in kinky play. Some were sincere, others were clearly putting on a show. I saw an older couple in the play area having a very hot scene. They were really into it. She wince and arched her back in a way you could tell she was barely aware that there were hundreds of people dancing around her. Downstairs I saw two women “playing”. If anything they were playing to the crowd rather than each other. The woman playing the part of submissive seemed more interested in seeing how the crowd reacted to her reactions. It felt like I was watching bad porn.

There were a few posers there, people acting like they were King Shit of Fuck Mountain. The people who act like they’re doing everyone a favor by letting us be in the same room with them. Its a funny thing to see.

I’m not sure if it was the music, the overcrowded club or the fact that I was also trying to get over being sick but I decided to head home. On my way out I ran into a friend who was sporting her brand new short PVC red dress. I tried not to stare, gave her a hug and tried to think of non-sexy things since hiding an erection while wearing leather pants is almost impossible. We talked for a bit but I left before her date returned with their drinks.

Jumping on the subway I felt less out of place than I normally do when dressed that way. I was sitting next to a drunk guy in a bunny suit and a coed in a catholic school girl uniform.

I made it home, took some nyquil and as I undressed I received a text message from the friend in the short red PVC dress:

“You are an idiot. You should have stayed…I’m a bit hornier than expected. It’s probably good that you left…in a way. If I were a man you would have been promptly raped. I would have lured you into a dark alley…”.

Thanks to Sofia for emailing this to me in the last minute before I head out to two different parties.

Agent Provocateur has a two new collections for Halloween. Pirates and Witches.

Lingerie and fetishwear in general has always made me scratch my head. Yeah, they look incredibly sexy, but then again they’d look sexy wearing burlap. It’s what they’re doing that makes it hot.

Thanks again Sofia!