Alligator Roleplay
Anal Play
Anal Stretching
Bastinado
BDSM
Beatings
Bimbofication
Biting
Blood Play
Boots
Breath Play
Bruises
Bukkake
Caging/Confinement
Caning
CBT
C.E.I.
CFNM
Chastity
Choking
Cigar Play
CNC
Collaring
Community
Corporal Punishment
Corsets
Crop
Crossdressing
Cum Eating
Deepthroat
Degradation
Depth Training
Discipline
D/s
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Educational
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Encasement Bondage
Extreme Bondage
Fantasy
Feet
Female Supremacy
FemDom
Feminization
Fire Play
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Flogging
Forced Bi
Fuck Machines
Furries
Gags
Gangbangs
Gape
Gloves
Golden Showers
Guidelines
Hentai
High Heels
High Protocol
Hoods
Hook Suspension
Humiliation
Hypnosis
Intoxication
J.O.I.
Knife play
Large Dildos
Latex
Leather
Lifestyle
Masochism
Messy
Modeling
Mummification
Needle Play
Nipple Torture
Pain Slut
Panties
Pantyhose
Pegging
Pet Play
Pornography
Prostate Massage
Public Play
R.A.C.K.
Romantic
Rope
Rules
Sadism
Sensory Deprivation
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Service
Sexual Slavery
Shibari
Sissification
Sissy Training
Slapping
Slut Training
Smoking
Sounding
Spanking
Stockings
Strap-ons
Tease
Tease and Denial
Temperature Play
The Whip Galley
Threesome
Toilet Slavery
Torture
Torture Devices
Training
Trampling
Verbal Domination
Violation
Wax Play
Whips

1

Pride Month Takeaways from an Asexual Sadist | by: Mercer
I only experience an overwhelming desire to intimately connect with someone once it is revealed that they are a Masochist - once we 'see' each other - and I can tell that they feel the same way. I've had to take some pretty big steps back on some pretty awesome people solely based on the fact that we were sexually incompatible... and I knew there was no way of getting around it. My primary partner has found her way to Masochism through my guidance, so I know it's not impossible to train someone who is willing... but that training is so vital and emotionally costly that even willingness isn't a good predictor of success. So that is the question I am left with, at the end of the day: what is the name for a sexuality fully expressed through Sadism alone?
Sexuality is messy, and in that way, it is an art of its own.

People say that art is the way that people communicate when words fail them, but I've always tried my best to fight that - to put my feelings into words, because I'm tired of my life feeling like one big performance piece. I've identified with asexuality for something like 15 years now, because it felt like the best way to describe my personal experiences. It felt like selecting 'other' from a drop-down menu - my only way of indicating to the world that I don't fit into the mold of sexual attraction.

I've debated some tough questions... mostly with myself, and most of which would probably seem insignificant or nonsensical to anyone else looking in. Notably, 'what is love', 'what is sex', and 'what do the two have to do with each other'. As of this month, I feel myself quickly rounding the corner into another BDSM-based relationship at the same time as these questions hitting me like a sack of bricks to the face, so before I get carried away, it seems fitting that I try One Last Time™ to explain myself.

Sexuality is messy... when we have different definitions of what sex is. To the outside world, I would be considered asexual, because I do not enjoy nor seek out sexual intercourse. However, if we're using 'sexual intercourse' as the definition of sex, than MANY different sexualities and expressions thereof would be considered asexual as well. And the whole point of calling them 'sexualities' is to... well... specify that they involve sexual attraction and, presumably, sex. So I don't think that would go over too well.

Therefore, the definition of 'sex' MUST include things other than sexual intercourse. But must it also include physical intimacy without genital stimulation?
What about physical intimacy without pleasure?

I've written before about the emotional connection and release I experience during a scene, that I know for a fact is disconnected from my 'sexual identity'. I've written about navigating 'sexual' relationships at the same time as 'non-sexual' ones. But there also now seems to be a third option... a relationship that is sexual for the other person, but non-sexual for me: I've officially made my partners have legitimate orgasms from 'non-sexual' stimulation, and even 'non-pleasurable' stimulation... aka pain. Or, are we now saying that orgasming isn't even a surefire way of telling if something is sexual or not?

I didn't know how I would feel about it before it happened for the first time - someone experiencing a physical release while I experienced an emotional one, that is. I'm more or less used to experiencing simultaneous emotional releases with my partners. I honestly kind of thought that it would be awesome, and beautiful, and... different. That's not to say that it wasn't awesome and beautiful, but it definitely wasn't significantly different or better than an emotional release, at least on my end.

I'll admit that I had some small fear, in the back of my mind, that the experience would significantly change my outlook on sexuality - that I would have some strong reaction, whether positive or negative, that would solidify my feelings on the matter and pull me in one direction versus the other. But it turns out that I can't answer if I'd rather make someone cum or cry... because as long as we both got what we wanted or needed out of it, I'd consider it a successful scene.

The things I generally enjoy doing to people to get them to that point are, statistically, more likely to result in crying... but that's a bit besides the point. Some people are wired to moan, some to scream, some to laugh, some to cry, and some to cum...
And others still have picked some combination of the above seemingly at random, such that you really never know what you're going to get.

The question of 'is this sex' only gets more complicated when I ask myself, "If so, then is desiring that my sexuality?" For most people, sexuality has something, ANYTHING to do with primary, secondary, or tertiary sex characteristics... Hetero this, homo that... Even 'bi' and 'queer' indicate some sort of reference range to work off of. There is a certain 'fuck-ability' factor.
What the hell kind of sexual attraction is determined by 'whip-ability' alone?

I only experience an overwhelming desire to intimately connect with someone once it is revealed that they are a Masochist - once we 'see' each other - and I can tell that they feel the same way. I've had to take some pretty big steps back on some pretty awesome people solely based on the fact that we were sexually incompatible... and I knew there was no way of getting around it. My primary partner has found her way to Masochism through my guidance, so I know it's not impossible to train someone who is willing... but that training is so vital and emotionally costly that even willingness isn't a good predictor of success. So that is the question I am left with, at the end of the day: what is the name for a sexuality fully expressed through Sadism alone?

How can I express pride for something that I can't even explain properly?

Until they make something better for the drop-down menu, I'll probably be sticking with 'asexual' for a while longer... because if you can't see it like we can, is it even really there?

0

Mentoring | by: Mercer
When I consider mentoring someone, I have to consider what that relationship will look like. I'm not just teaching someone what I know... I'm sharing everything that I am, and everything that I have ever been, with that person. My ultimate goal isn't just to teach tips and tricks of the trade, nor package up my experience with a neat little bow and hand it over. It isn't to sell the guidebook on becoming like me.
I've been thinking a lot about mentoring lately. Specifically, in my case, from D-type to D-type. I've been thinking about it not only because I've been contacted on numerous occasions from hopeful mentees (who must think I know what I'm doing here), but because I have - in fact, and as of the beginning of this year - taken on a mentoring role in someone's life. 

------

Background


I've been thinking about this mainly because I have had to define what being a mentor means for me. When I started in the lifestyle, the Pro world, and even way back in the modeling scene, I didn't have anyone there to hold my hand, tell me what to do, how to act, who to be, or how to make it. I didn't have someone to answer my questions, critique my work, tell me when I was making poor decisions, or even celebrate my victories with.

My family members and romantic partners alike were all somewhere on the scale between disproving to totally neutral about my work, and would only congratulate me for obvious, record-breaking achievements that also benefitted them in some way. My father told me I should 'quit fucking around' and that I better 'get a real job' and work hard because I was 'too ugly and messed up' and would never find someone to love and support me. My mother was always too caught up and concerned with trying to keep me 'safe' to contribute any meaningful pride or positivity to the equation beyond the occasional 'well, whatever makes you happy, I guess'.

I was also deathly afraid of being taken advantage of by anyone I could have asked for help or advice from. I did all of my own research. Compared notes from countless sources. Tried nearly everything I could try, did nearly anything that was asked of me just so I could form my own opinions and learn my own lessons. At one point, I was known as the best model around, because there was nothing I wouldn't do for the perfect shot, no pose too complicated to hold or costume too elaborate to wear for a 20 or even 40 hour sculpture or painting.

I suffered burnout for a long time, both while I was still working and after I stopped and moved 900 miles away from the network that I had built. I was working so hard on a personal level that when I took a step back, and looked at where I was in the grand scheme of things, it all felt very insignificant and hollow. I was the only one who could truly appreciate my hard work, because I had built up a facade, one that said that my work was 'easy for me' and 'no big deal'. For close to 8 years, I was - on the outside - calm, easy-going, and a people-pleaser, to whom this all came naturally.

You could even say that it was longer than 8 years, because I learned how to hide my suffering from a very young age. Men much older than me would marvel at how 'mature' I was, for essentially learning how to manage my emotions long enough to give them whatever it was they wanted. Thinking back, I'm not sure there was ever a time in my life that I was allowed to be 'immature' - in which I was allowed to explore my emotions and express how I was really feeling, to interact with people in meaningful and appropriate ways, without guilt or fear. I was taken advantage of easily, either because I trusted people who had no framework with which to understand that I was placing my trust in them, or because I trusted people whose understanding of trust was that it was given to be taken advantage of. Family, friends, teachers, partners, employers...

But the thing is, I don't regret the work I did. I may have been lonely, but I don't wish that someone had 'saved' me. In fact, there were many times that I met people who could have, and would have, offered me a way out of my struggles. When I look back at my life, I see all of the easy routes I rejected, all of the places I could have stopped and settled. I could call them 'missed opportunities', but they really only seem that way in hindsight. I made the best choices for myself that I could at the time, and those choices led me here.

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Consideration


When I consider mentoring someone, I have to consider what that relationship will look like. I'm not just teaching someone what I know... I'm sharing everything that I am, and everything that I have ever been, with that person. My ultimate goal isn't just to teach tips and tricks of the trade, nor package up my experience with a neat little bow and hand it over. It isn't to sell the guidebook on becoming like me.

My ultimate goal as a mentor is to share and grow with my mentee. So, to be accepted into that role, they need to be someone I am not only willing, but ecstatic to grow alongside. We need to connect in ways that feed each other's energy, creativity, and drive, far beyond simply having something in common. They need to have strengths that compliment my weaknesses, such that they can take what I give them and create so much more than I ever expected. Their passion needs to reignite what has long burned out inside of myself, so I might see the world, with my knowledge and experience, through their bright eyes. They must be willing to be pushed, and prodded, and critiqued, and analyzed in ways that might have never occurred to them - or that might have seemed out of reach - if left to their own devices.

With all of that in mind, the relationship I build with my mentee is one of the most important and precious relationships in my life. They're always on my mind. I'm always seeking out new information and new ways of explaining what I already know to them. They are a part of my network, and I arrange - at every possible opportunity - for them to learn, practice, or put their skills to use. I'm always on call to help them solve problems, update them with relevant news, or simply be there for them emotionally and support them when things feel overwhelming.

I'm there to weave them into the web of love and support that I've built over all these years... to shine a light through the darkness of uncertainty and share my dreams for a better and brighter future. To be the kind of mentor and role model I wish I had so many years ago.

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Afterthoughts


I've always had a hard time accepting gratitude. I read somewhere, in some long forgotten article, that 'my generation' tends to say "no problem" or "don't worry about it" instead of "you're welcome".
The act of being thanked is uncomfortable. It reminds us that others have opinions of us, and that they're keeping a score of some kind. Most of all, it reminds us of our own fears of being seen as a burden. Instead of accepting the thanks and taking credit for our hard work, we default to what we think we would like to hear if the tables were turned... that it was no problem. Except, if something was a big enough deal to someone that they thanked you for it, telling them that it was 'no problem' for you actually serves to minimize and deflect their feelings.

Even knowing this, I cannot escape the gratitude trap. Lately, I've found myself ignoring a 'thank you' completely, especially if it comes at a golden opportunity mid-conversation, and I can just keep rambling on with more help or advice as if nothing was said.

I visited my older brother last week, and it was the first time that we had spent any real time alone together as adults. We ended up talking about some of our fucked up past relationships, to fill in the details that we never really knew about each other. He happened to get sick with a severe sore throat in the middle of our visit, and I went into full Mommy mode - four different medications and home remedies at the pharmacy, timing when he took certain things so I knew when to give him his next dose, risking getting myself sick by staying with him for hours to keep him entertained and make sure he didn't need anything else.

When I finally got up to leave so I could let him sleep, I was lining things up on the counter and explaining what he needed to do for the next few days to get better. He told me, "Thank you, it really means a lot to me that you did all of this. Nobody has ever taken care of me before... nobody in my whole life." He wasn't looking at me. He was off in his own thoughts. It caught me so totally off guard that I just went back to what I was explaining, making sure he heard my instructions... then when I was finished packing and ready to leave, I finally replied, "This is why my partner likes having me around... I fix things. Or I try really hard to, at least." 

He told me, "Please... don't ever change."

0

Reclaiming Attraction | by: Mercer
It's no secret that my partners think I'm pretty, and beautiful, and gorgeous, and all other manner of words that express attraction and such and so forth. They accepted me at my lowest points, and therefore had a chance to watch it all unfold. I'm finally at a point where the changes are becoming more subtle. I have a sense of self, and a more stable identity. I still fall behind, or have periods of depression, panic, and dissociation. But I also have an idea of what normal is, and how I can make my way back to it.
Let's get the awkward part of this writing out of the way: I'm attractive.

Some people I trust a whole bunch told me this, and so did, like, a LOT of strangers on the internet, so it must be true. When I see pictures of myself, I'm like hey, not bad. And I'm asexual and don't even experience true attraction, so that's maybe actually a big compliment to myself probably I'm sure.

Okay, awkward part over.

I'm only bringing this up because, for a good chunk of my adult life, I didn't actually want to be seen as attractive. In fact, I did everything in my power to run as far away from traditional beauty standards (and my natural appearance) as I could. I was plagued with anxiety over being 'seen'... except, I didn't realize what was happening at the time.
All I knew was that I felt uncomfortable, and curating my appearance, wearing costumes and clothes that changed me from day to day like a chameleon, acting strange and unpredictable, and avoiding emotional closeness with others made me feel... better.

I was trying to navigate my life after complex childhood and familial trauma, and a sexually and emotionally abusive adult relationship, using the only tools I had available to me. I had a justifiable distrust of therapists from previous encounters, and wrong diagnoses and medication had only ever made things worse, so I was on my own.

According to my subconscious, it was 'better' for nobody to ever really know who I was, or what I looked like. Because then, if they were attracted to the way I was presenting, I could simply change to be something they found repulsive instead... as long as I could stay committed and convincing. And therefore, with every change, I was also convinced. I was always complimented on how I was the 'only one who could pull that off' whenever I wore or did something out of the ordinary. I never quite knew how to take that.

By the time I met my current partner, I was very, VERY tired of it all. The emotional rollercoasters, the mirror-checking, the clothes hoarding, the anxiety... and the upkeep for this persona that felt disappointingly hollow and unsatisfying. I started letting my hair grow out, I stopped HRT, I took out most of my piercings, and I was wearing more 'normal' clothing and minimal makeup regularly. My dating profile pictures were all over the place, and my partner said she had no idea what I looked like or who was showing up at her door for our first date. 
Despite my awkward mid-detransition body shape, acne-scarred complexion, and malnourished appearance, she was pleasantly surprised.

We had a rough first year or so. I was open about my asexuality and kinks with her, and about how I was going through a lot of physical changes, dysphoria, and dysmorphia, and that I'd be upset if she made any negative comments about my appearance. I would have a mental breakdown over something as simple as her saying that my legs would look good if I shaved them. I still didn't trust attraction, even coming from the person I loved and was trying to be with. Every day felt like a battle against the urge to do something drastic with my appearance and go back into hiding.

I was still modeling at the time, and I was known amongst the local figure painters for having a more androgynous body and facial structure, especially when I was putting on muscle. When I told this to a portrait painter, who had only ever seen me with long hair, in makeup, and wearing frilly renaissance dresses, she said something to the effect of, "I could never see you that way, you're so beautiful and feminine!" She meant it as a compliment, but it felt like a slap in the face. There I was, trying to be more authentic and natural, and I was still getting mixed messages about what was beautiful, desirable, feminine, masculine, complimentary, offensive... It didn't matter that I was proud of having an interesting figure to paint, because to her, androgyny was synonymous with ugliness, and she felt the need to correct their 'insult'.

My partner and I started camming and filming live porn together pretty early on, as we both had prior experience. Unfortunately, every time we logged on, there would be the same series of comments from newcomers, and we were powerless to stop them. She didn't care and could ignore them, but I was handling both the chat and direction of the show, and after a while, I would completely shut down. One of the only ones I remember/didn't block out the memory of, because it became a running joke after a while, was "Who's the third person in the room?" My voice was so deep and contradictory to my appearance, that even when they saw me talking directly to the camera, they were convinced that there must be some kind of magical porno ventriloquist off-screen.

I also tried to 'get over' my asexuality multiple times, seeing if different mindsets or situations would affect it. Let's just say I settled on a hard no.

By the time we moved south, my awkward phase was over. I felt confident that I was trying my best to work with my natural body, do things that made me happy, and wear clothes that were simple and comfortable. I knew I wanted to pursue more S&M-exclusive relationships, so I put out a call for masochists. It didn't take long for me to find one that I felt positively about. By this point, about a year and a half ago, let's just say that I looked reasonably attractive.

It's no secret that my partners think I'm pretty, and beautiful, and gorgeous, and all other manner of words that express attraction and such and so forth. They accepted me at my lowest points, and therefore had a chance to watch it all unfold. I'm finally at a point where the changes are becoming more subtle. I have a sense of self, and a more stable identity. I still fall behind, or have periods of depression, panic, and dissociation. But I also have an idea of what normal is, and how I can make my way back to it.

It's only now, after being in this state for a while, that I can look back and see how far I've come. 

I went from literally having a complete mental breakdown whenever someone expressed even the faintest hint of interest in me, to writing my own porn promo copy where I'm the 'sensual and seductive Mistress, exuding raw sexual power and femininity', and other such crap like that.

Though, the most satisfying feeling connected to my newly reclaimed attraction is actually something I never could have expected.

Pride.

My partners are proud to be with me. They're proud to be mine. And they're proud of what we do together.
"Hey, I'm with this smoking hot chick who I literally am not allowed to have sex with. She beats me up and fucks my ass all the time and it's GREAT!"

Yeah. I think it's pretty great, too.

1

Age Gaps, From Experience | by: Mercer
I've been dating "up" since before I got involved with the fetish community, and I don't plan on stopping any time soon. I choose who I would like to involve myself with based on if I think they're going to be a fun and interesting person to be around. Having mundane things in common such as liking the same music, having grown up with similar interests and experiences, and being at the same life stage CAN be nice, and often people use those similarities to jumpstart their relationships... but most of the time, it's just unnecessarily limiting. I enjoy experiencing new things and spending time with people who have different perspectives, from the exciting to the mundane.
My first abusive romantic relationship was with someone 15 years older than me (when I was 19), and I was the one who started it.

I currently (at 28) have lovely play partners who are older than me by 10, 15, 20, and nearly 30 years, and I was the one who started those as well.

Of the handful of people I play with that are actually younger than me, including my primary partner, they were the ones who started it, approached me, or showed interest first.

Most of the messages I ignore in my inbox are from people who are either around my same age, or less than 10 years older.

I've been dating "up" since before I got involved with the fetish community, and I don't plan on stopping any time soon. I choose who I would like to involve myself with based on if I think they're going to be a fun and interesting person to be around. Having mundane things in common such as liking the same music, having grown up with similar interests and experiences, and being at the same life stage CAN be nice, and often people use those similarities to jumpstart their relationships... but most of the time, it's just unnecessarily limiting. I enjoy experiencing new things and spending time with people who have different perspectives, from the exciting to the mundane.

When I find myself with older partners, I actually feel more comfortable knowing that they've had all that extra time to figure out what they want, so when things feel 'right' - meaning that feeling of being 'in this together' - I can generally trust that feeling. The younger people who have approached me, and that I've ended up playing with, have all had a similar sense of 'knowing what they want' - otherwise, I would have rejected them, because there is honestly nothing more frustrating to me than someone being attracted to me for the wrong reasons and creating conflicts with their own expectations, whether intentionally or not. 

I've broken things off with otherwise attractive and totally dateable young people after finding out that our values and desires were less closely aligned than previously thought, while they were still blind to that fact. AND I've been rejected by older guys (who've admitted to being attracted to me) when they've called me out on foolishly pursuing them despite having obvious incompatibilities (ironically, their sense of goodness and emotional curiosity is likely what made them attractive to me in the first place - hi trauma brain). 
I've ALSO had to reject older guys who still haven't figured their shit out (which becomes obvious when I start talking about being asexual and enjoying whipping people bloody, and they still think they have a chance in hell of a casual hookup). On occasion, I've even had to protect myself. But, sorry, desperation isn't an age-related problem.


In conclusion, my advice to others is...


Figure out what you want, and pursue it openly and honestly. If you're wrong, you can always change your mind and pursue something else, but you'll never know until you try. At the same time, question those who pursue you until you're sure of what they want. For your sake AND theirs. Trust your instincts. Get clear answers. And don't pursue others blindly or irresponsibly. Regardless of age similarities or differences. A predator is someone who lies about (or cleverly avoids actually admitting) what they're looking to get out of a relationship.
Not a label you give to everyone you personally don't consider 'dating material'. 

1

| BDSM | D/s | Lifestyle | Sadism
Healing With Asexuality | by: Mercer
I've tried to be very conscious in my exploration of kink to not view my asexuality as something that needs to be healed 'from'. There are times when I am better at this, and there are times when I slip up, and find myself swimming further away from my own self knowledge and unique sexual expression.
I've tried to be very conscious in my exploration of kink to not view my asexuality as something that needs to be healed 'from'. There are times when I am better at this, and there are times when I slip up, and find myself swimming further away from my own self knowledge and unique sexual expression.

It's difficult when you are trying to navigate a world filled with amazing allosexual people that you would love to be 'intimate' with, but your definitions of intimacy simply don't line up. Out of my three partnerships at the moment, two of them are primarily sexually charged connections, and one of them is a completely non-sexual connection. I feel very strong romantic love towards each of them - the types of things we do together don't change that. What does change, however, is how subtly guilty I tend to feel in their presence.

I derive physical and emotional satisfaction from performing non-sexual Sadism, and also from sexual Sadism or providing sexual satisfaction to my partner from a dominant place. In many ways, I am a service Domme. I enjoy doing whatever gets the best reactions from my submissives. There are some kinks that I enjoy more than others, in that they are closer to my emotional center, but I enjoy focusing on my partners in whatever form that focus takes.

The 'problem' that always comes up, however, is that my partners either don't know, don't remember, or just don't fully understand that this non-sexual connection is what drives me, even when I am performing sexually charged actions. I have frequent conversations around these topics, and try to explain them to the best of my ability... but it feels actually impossible to tell someone 'I don't actually find you sexually attractive' without it sounding like you're telling them that they aren't a sexually attractive or sexually desirable person. After all, for allosexual people, sexual attraction is the ultimate end result of the romantic and emotional processes, the pheromones and hormones that make you feel close to another person. It feels, more or less, a natural progression from emotional intimacy to physical intimacy.

And so, this is where I have to explain a few things.

I have to explain, for starters, that I'm not broken. Saying that I'm broken implies that I need to be fixed. It also implies that I can be fixed, or that I even want to be fixed.

I have to explain that the trauma in my past doesn't define me, but it IS part of my definition. It's something I can own and work towards letting go of, to whatever extent is possible.

I have to explain that I've come so damn far, fixed so many damn problems, let go of so much damn pain... and what's left over, what you see right here, right now... is me.

No longer suffering every day. Mostly functional in society. Surrounded by people who love me.

And I am still asexual.

Something that I have been somewhat dreading explaining, however, is even more complicated than simply not experiencing sexual attraction. The truth of the matter is, I do experience some form of it.  And the reason I dread putting it out there is because of how others judge people 'like me'.

The truth is that I have an erotic target identity inversion. Specifically, autoandrophilia. ETIIs are the same fetish class that includes sissies (autogynephilia), ABDLs (autonepiophilia), and furries (autoanthropomorphozoophilia).

So, what does that all mean? Basically, I experience my sexuality through the lens of 'becoming' someone else... specifically, the man that is my 'type', that I would personally feel sexual attraction towards if I didn't have this inversion.

Now, if you've known me long enough, you might know that I attempted to medically transition from approximately the ages of 22 to 24. I haven't been open about exactly why it didn't work out for me and why I ultimately stopped, but it was because my mental health was taking a severe nosedive - between hormonal fluctuations, the people I was involved with, my family situation, and the fact that I felt like I could never actually become the person I would find attractive in the way I desired, I was at the absolute lowest point in my life.

ETIIs are poorly understood. There have been very few studies done on them. Most anecdotal evidence, at this point in time, suggests that they are developed in early childhood, and are life-long, 'untreatable' paraphilias. A lot of people with ETIIs, including ones seemingly unrelated to gender, experience both gender non-conformity and gender dysphoria. Sometimes transitioning does help. But that's about all of the information you can find out there.

I knew when I first started, 9 years ago, that the kink community felt like home. But it took me a while to realize just how integral it is to my relationships and experience of sexuality as a whole.

You might ask why, if I know my 'type' - if I technically know the kind of guy that I am sexually attracted to - don't I just apply that knowledge and try to find him? This is where it gets tricky... because when I see the 'guy of my dreams', I don't feel sexual attraction. I feel self-conscious. I start comparing myself to him. I'll see a muscled arm and instead of wondering what it would feel like to be held by that arm, I'll feel my own arm to see how it matches up. I feel myself asking myself permission to feel attractive. It's unconscious. And it's actually pretty annoying, at this point.

And all of this perceived attraction, all of my feelings about this 'guy', are necessarily unrealistic. In reality - in real relationships with real people - I don't care what my partner looks like. The important things are that I feel love from them, safe with them, and seen by them. 

When I'm with someone, I have to turn 'that guy' off. I basically flip the switch on my own base sexuality. That's why sexual encounters with me tend to be... confusing, at best. When my partner turns their focus towards me, either to reciprocate or to expect something other than what I was prepared to offer in terms of physical intimacy, they're either playing with the switch or actively trying to flip it. They're literally trying to turn me on, not realizing that the person I am when I'm turned on is not the same person that wants to play with them.

My primary partner has autogynephilia, without the asexual component. She is able to easily switch from having relatively vanilla sex to exploring her fetish to the fullest extent possible. While we do a lot of exploring together, I would say that when she is experiencing the most 'pure' form of sexual expression, it hardly involves me at all. I am basically just giving her permission and a few guidelines so she can go zone out and be a sexual object by herself for a few hours.

Before you go thinking that I don't have any way to express myself like she does, let me assure you that I do. Expanding the gap between intimacy and pleasure, via non-sexual Sadism, is a large part of what fulfills me 'sexually'. When I am whipping someone, and there is an intense physical and emotional connection happening - despite my 'switch' being turned off - I very much experience a physical and emotional release. No sexual arousal, stimulation, nor orgasm necessary. I try to avoid saying that whips 'turn me on', because to me it is a non-sexual arousal from the anticipation of a non-sexual release, and even suggesting otherwise is likely to bring undesirable sexual undertones to the conversation.

In my writings, I try to make this distinction as clear as possible, so other asexual sadomasochists feel comfortable approaching me, knowing we are on the same page.

But I do tend to attract a good deal of allosexual sadomasochists, or those with other sexually charged intentions. And for the most part, I am terribly uncomfortable with these interactions. I cannot take the time to accurately explain myself to every single person I meet. To every client expecting something from me. To every single potential play partner or life partner. The way that I can play with someone who has at least a basic understanding and acceptance of who I am and what I feel in those moments might LOOK relatively normal, because I am either playing to top them and connect, or playing to please them in some way that I can work around sexually. 

But for me, that switch is always sitting there, and I feel very little control over my own body, my own desires, and my own emotional state when it's flipped by someone else. It activates every little trigger in my mind that can't actually cope with the situation, all at once.

There are times, however, when I feel safe flipping that switch myself. Sometimes it gets flipped once a month. Sometimes it gets flipped once a day, every day, for a month. These are times, like my primary partner's, when I fully immerse myself in my sexual expression. In my case, I mostly just pace around in a dimly lit room and think up stories in my head. (If you thought it would be something sexy or porn-worthy, I'm sorry to disappoint.) I've coped like this for somewhere around 16 years. 

I feel the need for those times less (or not at all) when I am actively engaging in Sadism on a regular basis, which just proves, in my eyes, that one is essentially a substitute for the other. Sadism allows me to tap into the important emotions on the other side without actually having a sexual experience, and thinking up stories allows me to travel to the other side for a while and have whatever experiences I need to by myself.

My life has gotten a lot more worth living since I've been able to heal, all of my little quirks and oddities intact. Since I've learned that I can't 'fix' myself, or my asexuality, or how I experience love. Since I've allowed myself to separate out what's important to me in a relationship, and feel (mostly) confident in my interactions. To feel like I am enough, even if not everyone can accept that.


2

How We Define Ourselves | by: Mercer
Definitions are frustrating things. Every time I think I have the perfect way to describe my experiences, something comes along and upsets that theory. I've been involved in many discussions about what being 'a Mistress' or having 'a slave' means to me, and the more I try to pin down answers for these questions, the further I get from any easy explanation. We all want to describe ourselves in the perfect way. We want to put ourselves out there in a manner that tells people 'this is who I am' and have them understand. We want to find people with values and needs that play nice with our own, who want to take what we have to give and have to give what we want to take.
Definitions are frustrating things. Every time I think I have the perfect way to describe my experiences, something comes along and upsets that theory. I've been involved in many discussions about what being 'a Mistress' or having 'a slave' means to me, and the more I try to pin down answers for these questions, the further I get from any easy explanation. We all want to describe ourselves in the perfect way. We want to put ourselves out there in a manner that tells people 'this is who I am' and have them understand. We want to find people with values and needs that play nice with our own, who want to take what we have to give and have to give what we want to take.

The closest I've come to describing slavery has not been by definitions. Rather, it has been through conversations. Merging two opposite perspectives on a situation to come up with a unique concept for what the relationship means to us.

For example. When I presented Bill with a collar, and asked if he would be my slave, he asked me what 'being my slave' entailed. I responded, "it means you have to do what I say." He told me, "I already do what you say," and I replied, "yes, but now you HAVE to." It's a little embarrassing to think about, because our relationship is built on so much more than me telling him what to do. The intention behind that offer, and how our relationship has continued to grow, are the only things that matter at the end of the day. But the basic concept behind that exchange was taking our relationship from a place of desire to one of dedication.

He has also told me numerous times that he takes pride in others knowing that he is mine, and that he feels responsible for my happiness. Pride and responsibility don't feel like traits that a 'submissive' should have - after all, aren't they supposed to be humble and subservient? What is this nonsense about feeling a sense of achievement and accountability?

To me, those feelings are signs that his submission is both real and based in reality. They are signs that he is not simply 'submitting' to me or 'serving' me, like a kid giving his teacher his homework assignment or a waiter placing dinner on the table. He belongs to me completely. His mind works in such a way that he is compelled to put me first, and can only be truly happy and at peace when he has succeeded in doing so. It is only natural that he should feel responsible, both to me and to himself, for my happiness. And when I am happy, he can't keep it to himself. He wants the world to know.

He belongs to me, and my ownership of him occupies his mind, whether we are with each other or not. I don't need to struggle to put him in his place, or stop him from doing things that displease me. I need only to allow him to make me smile, and the rest will follow.

Despite having worked out what 'slave' means to us, I still sometimes struggle with being called 'Mistress'. It probably has something to do with the sheer number of people who have tried to put me in their particular 'Mistress box'. It seems like everyone has a different definition for the term, and people can be very hasty in assuming that we have the same one. Hell, I even run into this problem when I try to tell others I'm a Sadist, because even the labels that seem relatively easy to define are up for debate amongst different practitioners. Like how Christians have approximately 10,000 different denominations, and the only thing they all probably agree on is that this guy named Jesus existed.

We have worked out what Sadism means for us, but again, the concept is better expressed through a conversation. I can look at my slave and say, "I like hurting you, and I like it because you like it when I hurt you." His response will be, "that's great, because I like it when you hurt me, and I like it because you like it when you hurt me." Plain and simple. Usually followed by, "well, I'm glad that's settled." If you asked me how a lifetime of struggling to find each other could lead to such easy conclusions, I couldn't tell you, because you either understand it, too... or you don't.

In that same way, you might understand that being a Mistress, to me, means that I come first. Whatever my current need is, that takes priority, and the rest will follow. My vulnerability lies in allowing others the chance to make me smile. And my disappointment comes from feeling pressured to fake a smile for someone else's benefit.

The most uncomfortable feeling in the world, to me, is this: being begged by someone to do something that they think will make me happy, so they can get off from it. Essentially, someone deriving sexual pleasure from the idea of making me happy, and projecting their particular desires and theories of pleasure and happiness onto me. This is why there are certain fantasies I will only participate in after being given a very clear sign that the person requesting said fantasy knows that they are doing it for their own experience of pleasure, and not as a 'service' to me. Especially if it's something that requires a lot of attention, forethought, and communication, and they actually suck at it (but think they don't). This is unfortunately a very likely scenario if they've literally made it to the point of mindless desperation. Control over their desperation is not a control I want to have, because the person being 'controlled' is unaware of how serious and disruptive their desires actually are - a theory that proves itself time and time again.

A related uncomfortable feeling is someone trying to twist around something that I actually AM into to serve their own needs, but instead of begging, they try to offer it up as a sacrifice that they are making. This is why I find people saying things like 'I would let you hit me if you wanted to' so frustrating. The fact of the matter is that I don't need anyone to 'let' me hit them. Never have and never will. I know too many people who would legitimately enjoy being hurt by me to waste my time giving someone the feeling of satisfaction that they've served me by simply acting as my punching bag (an extremely inexperienced one, at that). They've connected my pleasure, my craft, and my skills to some imaginary 'need' that mirrors their own desperation, rather than putting in the time to discover what they actually have to give... or, you know, straight up asking what I actually need. These people are usually very confused about the nature of their own desires, and it shows.

A necessarily skill for anyone who wishes to serve me is the ability to put their desires and their designs aside. The ability to let me in. To see me as I am. See my happiness. My sadness. My struggles. My values. My dominance.

There is a reason why the only thing that my slave begs me for is mercy.

And that is what being a Mistress means to me.

2

| BDSM | Beatings | Blood Play | D/s | Edge Play | Flogging | Leather | Lifestyle | Masochism | R.A.C.K. | Romantic | Sadism | Whips | Corporal Punishment
I Can't Show You | by: Mercer
I can show you how I use my whip, but I can't show you how my whip feels in my hands, extending before me and multiplying the intention of my throw with the particular vibration we share, turning a well-timed flick into an intense and commanding force.
I can show you how I use my whip, but I can't show you
how my whip feels in my hands, extending before me and multiplying the intention of my throw with the particular vibration we share, turning a well-timed flick into an intense and commanding force.

I can show you how I hit my slave, but I can't show you
the connection that flows between us, that vibrational feedback that flows through him and back to me in the moment that give meets take.

I can show you how he moves in time with me, but I can't show you
the radiant stillness of our minds, humming together and forming the tune to which our bodies dance.

I can show you how far we take things, but I can't show you
how badly we both have needed and how long we both have waited for this moment.

I can show you how he bleeds for me, but I can't show you
how it feels to see his blood, knowing that I own every drop.

I can show you my smile, but I can't show you
how peaceful, light, and free my soul feels.

I can show you his scars, but I can't show you
how superficial they are compared to the marks we have left on each others' hearts.

I can show you that he is mine, but I can't show you
how hard he works to earn the privilege of being owned by me.

I can show you our scenes, but I can't show you
the immense amount of effort and dedication that goes on behind the scenes, every hour of every day, always working towards a better tomorrow.

I can show you our times together, but I can't show you
that we are always together, in intention, in force, in vibration, in movement, in stillness, in waiting, in blood, in peace, in light, in our hearts, in ownership, in dedication, in work, in love.


3

| BDSM | Consent | Community | Educational | Guidelines
My Personal Protocol | by: Mercer
These are the guidelines I adhere to while navigating the kink community, as well as my personal and professional relationships. If you are considering meeting me, whether publicly or privately, you can generally expect me to act in the following ways. You are welcome to ask my play partners, clients, and fellow community members about my integrity and whether they believe these statements to be true or not. I may make mistakes - and my protocol itself may not be perfect - but at the very least, these are the thoughts I try to keep in the back of my mind as I interact with my fellow community members and human beings. I will keep this note updated if my guidelines change, or if I feel anything should be added to them.
I will not play with anyone in a manner that either of us is uncomfortable with.

  • I will not force my fetishes or desires upon my play partners.
  • I recognize that there are people out there who would willingly and enthusiastically consent to my fetishes and desires, and there is no reason to initiate play with someone who feels negative or indifferent about the things that I enjoy.
  • I will continuously check in with my partner, whether during the course of the scene, or for an established partner, the course of the relationship.
  • I recognize that desires and needs are fluid and can change at any time.
  • I also recognize that desires are not always well understood by the person they are expressed by, and it is possible for someone to get exactly what they asked for and still have a bad time or feel unfulfilled.
  • By checking in, I aim to make sure not only that my partner is consenting to what we are doing, but that they feel positive about our encounters and wish to continue with the play or relationship we have agreed upon.
  • No scene nor relationship of mine is to become so important to my ego or self-esteem that I would be unwilling to discuss changes for my partner's benefit.
  • If the proposed changes go against my own limits, comfort, or morals, I will not agree to them.
  • If my partner attempts to coerce me to change against my will, I will recognize that person as not having my best interests at heart, and refuse to engage with them further.

If a potential partner is inexperienced in the scene, I will attempt to educate them on proper practices and consent before engaging with them.

  • If they claim to not have any ideas about what they would like to try, I will explain, to the best of my ability, what I am into (or can provide) and why I enjoy those things.
  • If they express interest in any activities, I will explain what they can expect from our play, as well as assure them that they can stop me at any time, for any reason, and I will be happy to comply and perform aftercare, as well as discuss the scene with them in an open and understanding manner.
  • I will not attempt to initiate further play with anyone who has called a scene, as I realize that their headspace and ability to consent may be affected by our prior play.
  • If said person desires further play, whether of the same kind or to try something else, I will make sure that they are not doing so because they feel bad or wish to 'make up' for the previous scene.
  • No amount of frustration at a 'lost scene' will ever cause me to compromise someone else's mental state, and any time that I recognize someone attempting to make me feel better by offering play, I will take a step back from the situation and assure them that I would rather play when we are both in a better headspace.
  • I will cease play with any potential partners if they act in a way that makes me uncomfortable, or perform activities that were not agreed upon nor consented to.
  • I recognize that there is always 'another time' to do something you thought of with someone that you have previously had a good scene with, but you can never take back actions that were performed while someone was vulnerable and unable to give full and unquestionable consent.
  • I will never take advantage of someone in the moment, or try questionably consensual activities with someone I don't know well enough to speak up for their own discomfort. Being turned on, attempting to seize an opportunity, assuming consent for an activity because the person has (directly or indirectly) indicated some sort of interest in it, or other such reasons are not valid and should not be viewed as acceptable excuses for any questionable actions.
  • If I know someone is inexperienced in the scene, I will not recommend that they play with anyone I cannot personally attest to the character of. If I see activities being performed on said person that they have previously told me they are not interested in as a whole or do not generally consent to, I will attempt to check in with them to make sure that they agreed to those actions, and that no consent violations have taken place.
  • If anyone requests that I watch a negotiation or a scene to make sure that non-consensual activities are not performed, I will do so.
  • If I witness someone's consent being violated or someone being injured in an intentional and/or dangerous manner in person, and said person requests that I provide an unbiased eye-witness account to any interested parties and/or the proper authorities, I will do so.
  • If anyone in the scene comes to me with a story of how their consent was violated and requests that I assist them in talking to the local community leaders/organizers about a potential predator, I will take their concerns seriously and do my best to advocate for them.
  • I will try my best to educate others in consent in the best way I know how, and promote these ideals to those who will listen.

In my personal relationships, as a Domme, I will never ask anything of my submissive that does not benefit either them or our relationship.

  • I will encourage personal growth from my partner, but not pressure them without consent or shame them into changing for me.
  • I will not ask anything of my partner that worsens their health, puts unnecessary or unwarranted stress upon them, affects their self-image, destroys important or positive relationships, or disrupts their family life.
  • I will also not come up with arbitrary rules, or ask anything of my partner that will not make either of us happier, whether out of a sense of obligation or otherwise.
  • If I ask something of my partner for myself, I will make sure it is something I feel positive about them providing for me, and that deepens my feeling of connectedness to them.
  • If my partner desires help and discipline in their personal life, I will provide it to the best of my abilities.
  • If I disapprove of my partner's actions, for any reason, I will do my best to figure out why said actions bothered me, and make sure that my reasoning is a legitimate concern that can be discussed.
  • If I find that I have no sensible reason for being bothered by their actions, I will attempt to explain the emotions I am feeling, and work with them to figure out what the problem may be.
  • If my partner does not take either my legitimate concerns or my feelings into account, or if they refuse to work with me to solve our issues, I will recognize that there is a disconnect in how each of us views the relationship.
  • If said disconnect cannot be remedied, I will recognize that our expectations are not aligned and that we may be incompatible.

In my professional relationships, as a Pro Domme, I will act professionally and provide the services agreed upon.

  • I will provide a clean, safe, and comfortable environment for my clients to express themselves in, and have any necessary or emergency supplies on hand to deal with situations that may arise.
  • I will take any medical conditions or other personal factors into account when deciding if it is safe to perform certain activities, and will discuss my thoughts clearly and openly prior to our session.
  • I will make my terms clear up front, and not accept any clients that I cannot provide the requested services to.
  • I will interview any potential clients, to make sure that we are a good fit, before proceeding with full payment for a session.
  • I will sign a contract with all potential clients to make sure that my terms are understood. If the client breaches the contract, such as by making sexual advances or intentionally causing personal or property damage, or if I feel that my safety is otherwise at risk, I will end the session.

I will not sacrifice the safety of myself or others for the sake of personal gain.

  • I will not release names, photos, or personal details about any of my contacts, partners, or clients without their written consent, except in extreme cases, such as a breach of contract or in the event that I feel said person is a danger to themself or others.
  • If I believe someone is a danger to others in the BDSM community, I will contact community leadership, report any violations, and if warranted, advise that said person be barred from both public and private events and sessions.
  • I will not 'vet' or recommend someone as a play partner unless I have full confidence and personal experience with that person. If I cannot personally vet them, but know somebody who can and is willing to provide first-hand experience, I will redirect the interested party.