TL;DR – Fine, Have A Picture

Hello naughty bunnies!

Apparently, my last kinky post was not all too popular with you guys. I think only one person may have read it through to the end and since then my posts have gotten total radio silence. I won’t lie: my ego is a tad bruised. I should give you a beating to make up for it! Luckily, I am in a generous and forgiving mood (you had better thank me later, though!)

I am assuming (and kind of hoping) that my last post detailing my session with subby-hubby was only so unpopular because it was so long. I hope I am right.

In any case, no long rambles from me this time.

Just a picture. 

5b_privacy
Photographer: Guy Raymond from NU2 Concept Studio                                                                                                           Miss Pippa Minty and her favourite sub!

Yes, that is me. 

No, there is no photoshop. Pure, unadulterated moi, on top of subby-hubby in an odd pose (still, at least I am on top).

Subby-hubby had won a draw at Montreal Comiccon for a free photoshoot with NU2 Concept Studio, which is where this picture is from.

I expect this to satisfy your naughtiness until I have nursed my pride back to health so I may post again.

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In Which I Could Not Attend a Party

Last Saturday, I was invited to one of Miss Pearl‘s glamourous and sexy parties. I had every intention of attending it, but the universe thought otherwise and completely nixed my plans.

My body just hates me.

I have been ill with lightheadedness and dizzy spells for nigh on a week now, and there has been no improvement. I do not know if it is due to tiredness, or something else – but as I am also losing my voice at the moment, I certainly think I am cooking up something. In any case, I feel betrayed by my body that has decided that sending my brain on a vertigo-inducing merry-go-round is a good idea. [Fun fact: after getting diagnosed on Monday, it turns out I have Labyrintitis.]

My husband, on the other hand, is full of life, fit and able. He was also invited to the party. And there was no way I was going to let my body’s issues poop on his parade too. I encouraged him to go without me.

And then the envy kicked in.

Now, I have mentioned previously that subby-hubby and myself have been working on a semi-poly/open relationship type of arrangement (I realize that sounds convoluted, but I honestly don’t know what else to call it). By that, I meant that we play with different people, but always with permission and open communication between the two of us in case the situation changes. We also believe that, as long as we want to come home to each other, we are still in a healthy relationship.

In that case, why was the green-eyed monster writhing in my gut? Well, I suppose it had more to do with the fact that I was left out. I usually am at least an attendee at Miss Pearl’s parties, so hearing everything second hand just doesn’t compare. It’s like eating a frozen microwaveable-meal: full of expectation, but ultimately drab and disappointing.

But it is not the party that is the let down – oh no! It is my stupid fucking health. I wish I had the stamina to go through a normal work week without feeling as though I had been put through the wringer. Seriously – I couldn’t feel more dead if I’d been hung on the gallows this weekend.

So I sat on the couch at home, drifting in and out of consciousness, binge watching crime-dramas on Netflix (I ran out of the other stuff). My husband called, at my request, to relay some of the goings-on at the party, but that didn’t help me feel much better. He was clearly having a blast and I was missing out.

I sat at home, horny and eager to punish some naughty folks, but only wishfully thinking it. The worst thing is that Miss Pearl only lives four blocks or so from us. I could have sauntered over there in a heartbeat if my health had allowed me to. But I didn’t want to be the kind of party guest that sits sullenly in a corner and complains about feeling unwell.

Around 1:30 A.M. subby-hubby came home.

I sat him down and paused whatever Netflix was flashing at my retinas. I sat up like a lovesick puppy who just got his owner’s attention – not very Femdom-y, I know; but I am cutesy like that. I was happy he was home and I was no longer alone with my aches and fictional crime.

After we exchanged a kiss, I asked him how the party was. His response was typical: “Good.” Well, no shit Sherlock! He didn’t even want to leave the party until I texted him that I wanted to see him before I left for work at 2:00 A.M.

Mais encore?” I asked him with a raised eyebrow.

“I got the spankies I wanted.”

“Okaaaaay…” I know I said that we communicate a lot and that this keeps our relationship amazing, but his communication with me takes a little encouragement. This was going to be a hard nut to crack.

I asked him to tell me more. He didn’t know what to say. “Who spanked you? Who else was there? Did the hosts do any fun scenes?”

“Yeah, they did. Mr. Wildcard played with Cheeky Pants in the kitchen. They did some wax play. Cheeky Pants giggled the whole time.” Okay, we were starting to get somewhere.

“And Miss Pearl? Was she the one that spanked you?”

“No. She volunteered to rope bunny for Pirate King who needed some practice with his knots.”

“And who spanked you?”

I can unfortunately not give a nickname to the spanker of my spankee husband, as I’ve not met the person and can therefore not label them with an appropriate moniker yet. But I intend to meet them before long.

The point of me writing down our conversation is that I had to literally pry the information on the party out of him. I wish I could tell you more about Miss Pearl’s party, dear readers, but as I was not there (and as my husband wasn’t exactly volunteering the information) I can hardly describe the setting, or the people. All I know is that it was starlight themed and that my husband returned covered in glitter – so clearly, there were fairy herpes floating in the air around Miss Pearl’s party.

His private after-party

Continue reading

My (Rambling) Thoughts On Malesub and Masculinity

Good day to all you Kinksters out there!

Sorry for not posting in a while (without announcing a known hiatus), but work, August heat/mugginess, and depression have taken their toll on me in the last few weeks. I have been thinking of my kinky bunnies nonstop, but I’ve had difficulties in getting my words out on paper (well, on the web, technically).

In the meantime, I’ve been having a great deal of training at work (yay for more qualifications) and it has been rather exhausting, as flight cancellations made for a lot of overtime. I want to say that it was good for my wallet, but a cop who stopped me for speeding decided to give me the highest fine possible (1,300.00$ plus 14 demerit points out of 15) despite it being my very first offense (and I was driving at an average highway speed on a highway). So my wallet has been bled dry despite all the overtime work. Needless to say, this has caused me to have a considerable panic attack and many sleepless nights. But, beyond having a lawyer look at the ticket, there is nothing I can do in the immediate moment. I’m trying to shut the door on this massive problem and move on.

Now that you know what’s been eating away at my poor tortured insides, lets get to the reason you guys are actually reading this: the kinky bits. I really want to tackle the subject of malesub and masculinity today, as my subby-hubby is the main inspiration for this post.

Malesub is incredibly attractive, so why is there such stigma against it?

Would that I had the answer to that, my dears! There is but one thing that I know is one hundred per cent true, and that’s that very many women love a man who can be vulnerable. Not all women will admit it, even less are willing to describe themselves as Femdoms/Dommes/etc. because of the associated implications (pro-Dommes usually come to mind, and it is not every woman who enjoys donning 8 inch heels and latex). The result is that many men see vulnerability and the desire for submission as an inherent flaw that will make them lose respect rather than gain it.

To be perfectly frank with you, I think our patriarchal society is to blame for that. The traditional male gender role has been established as domineering and stoic, unemotional and intriguing, with all the machismo someone can throw behind it. Just look at men’s cologne advertisements, or worse, the ones for men’s jeans. The men in it are very beautiful specimens (*drool*), and they mostly fit a very precise and crafted view of masculinity (I’m talking about the ripped, but lean Adonis-types that exist mostly thanks to the wonders of airbrushes and photoshop… mostly). But, beyond their basic appearance, they are always; a) doing a “manly” sport, such as sailing, riding a motorcycle, pumping iron, or swimming in a tumultuous ocean; b) driving in a sports car; c) taming some wild beast (or a horse, for some reason); or, finally, d) having a woman at their feet begging for their attention.

If you are a fan of my blog, so far, you will probably understand, without explanation, why there are inherently problematic. If you are new to my blog, welcome! I am a very opinionated young Femdom with sometimes-switch tendencies. I am very much a Feminist and a firm believer in equal rights (except for the bedroom *wink*). Some may even call me a social warrior, but I am going to disagree as I don’t take issue with quite as many things as they have a tendency to do. All clear? Good.  Continue reading

Thirty Days of Kink – Final Post – Days 28-30

 

Thirty Days of Kink – Days 25 through 27 –

Today’s post is short and sweet, partially because of the nature of the questions asked, and partially because I am gosh darned exhausted by my work at the moment. Still – I didn’t want to let my kinky bunnies down.

– Day Twenty-Five –

How open are you about your kinks?

Uhm… I think the answer is obvious: very. I am an oversharer by nature. I am very enthusiastic and love to share things I love and enjoy. Sometimes people can get uncomfortable around me because of it – my filter isn’t always on.

Reader Question – Difficulties Integrating Kink in a Relationship and Depression

Warning: This post may very well be quite gloomy.

Disclaimer: The reader who wrote to me gave me permission to publish and answer the question on this blog.

Dear Miss Pippa Minty,

Firstly I am a fan of your blog and found you through Miss Pearl’s blog. I like the way you write and the stories that you tell. I thought I would write to you and ask for your advice.

I am feeling my most despondent with kink and with being a submissive at the moment. I think not finding anyone to play with or have a relationship with is quite frustrating. I have also found it difficult to do casual and found that it is not for me, I tend to get attached and subsequently hurt.

A combination of frustration and living with anxiety and depression + living at home doesn’t make things easy. Do you have any hints and tips on how I can manage this frustration / channel these feelings in a constructive way?

Kind regards

M—

Dear M—,

Continue reading

Thirty Days of Kink – Days 22 through 24 –

– Day Twenty-Two –

What do you think is important in keeping a BDSM relationship healthy? How does it differ from a vanilla relationship?

Honestly, when it comes to keeping a relationship healthy, I am not sure that a BDSM relationship does differ from a vanilla one. I find that any and every relationship, whether it be romantic, platonic, or even just an acquaintanceship will suffer if people do not communicate openly with each other. Passive-aggressive behaviour and having the person you are in a relationship with guess at what you are feeling usually leads to disaster. Eventually, you will get to a point in your relationship that you will know each others’ thoughts, but still never assume that that is the case. Communication, respect, honesty are key to any relationship. As I’ve mentioned in a previous Thirty Days of Kink post, they are also key elements to a healthy kinky relationship, as they also imply safety and consent.

– Day Twenty-Three –

Since you first developed an interest in kink, have your interests/perspectives changed? How so?

Absolutely. While I still occasionally like to switch and be submissive, I have found myself more and more on the Dominant side of things. I enjoy being a FemDom. I enjoy the power and the mischief I can get up to. And I enjoy taming my total brat of a husband. I think that this Dominant side of me was always there, but allowing it to truly blossom has changed my outlook on kink and on my own place in life in general. Thanks to Miss Pearl‘s good advice, I have also benefited from a completely different perspective of kink than the one I first came in with.

I believe I have mentioned this before, but I initially got in with the BDSM Fashion crowd. Not bad people, but like in every model event, it is full of pettiness and backstabbing. Honestly, I thought all kink was either totally extreme or totally bitchy for the longest time because of this. So I stepped out of the scene.

My relationship with my husband and my meeting Miss Pearl has allowed me to grow into kink in a more wholesome way. I have now made kink my own in a way I never had before. I realized that if latex doesn’t make me feel sexy, I don’t have to wear it to be a Dom. It’s little details like that that make me very happy my perspective has changed, as I now enjoy my sex-life a lot more. Continue reading

Thirty Days of Kink – Days 19 through 21

I have a lot of catching up to do!! *scrambles hurriedly*

So without further ado – the continuation of my Thirty Days of Kink series!

Thirty Days of Kink

– Day Nineteen –

Any unexpected ways kink has improved your life?

Yes, actually. I have been struggling with Anxiety, Major Depressive Disorder, PTSD and some Bipolar Disorder for some years now. Medication and therapy do what they can, but kink plays a very important part in making me feel better.

When I am submissive and get a spanking, it seems to clear my head of all anxieties and only the delicious pain remains. I can stay elated for quite a while after that. I am aware that the adrenaline and endorphin high is probably the cause of it, but it is beneficial nonetheless.

When I am Dominant, I get drunk on the power and control I have over men. It makes me able to move past my negative thoughts and PTSD. Depression usually goes away simply because I feel evil and mischievous. The fact that I feel strong and sexy doesn’t hurt either.

Back to the Bawdy Blogging (and some writer’s block to boot!)

Hello, my Kinky Bunnies!

The Prodigal Dom has returned. (Ego trips this early in the morning clearly get out of hand.)

I do apologize for the prolonged hiatus. It’s not that the Internet is still lacking, it is that I am so exhausted by my current work + move + work + unpack + work + clean the apartment + work overtime + unpack routine that my brain feels as though its been wrung out like a worn-out loofah. The result is a bad case of writer’s block.

This is due, in no small part, to a current lack of inspiration. Subby-hubby is just as tired as I am. Our sex-life at the moment is completely non-existent. That is not to say that I am not horny. I am just too tired to act on my kinky impulses; mostly because they require me to stand up and move and that is just far too much effort after the sort of days I have been having.

However, I am getting back into the fray!

I am planning a nice spanking session for the hubby tomorrow (I have my first day off in 3 weeks on Wednesday, so I can stay awake all night on Tuesday if I must *wink* ), which will be our first foray into kink in the new apartment. We did uh… “christen” it before the furniture came in (having sweaty, tired sex on the bare wooden floor of the empty front room – it’s not worth a blog post, as we sort of fell asleep halfway through).

But this will be our First True Kink (TM) experiment in the new apartment. I also bought an O-ring (hard point) to fix to the living room ceiling for some suspension play, so you know this new apartment will be turned into a den of debauchery before long. It’s just a question of having the bloody TIME. Time has become a commodity we take for granted, but I need to realize that – no matter how hard I try – I can’t work more than 24 hours in one day.

Sorry, I seem to be going off on a philosophical tangent there. I will shut up before I do some serious damage.

But do know that I am back. Blocked, but back. And for those who have written to me, I have finished pondering your very interesting questions and I should be responding within the week.

Cheerio, dah-lings!