Mommy Domme, May I?
It took me a long time to come around to the idea of being a Mommy Domme. I confess, it was an abundance of ignorance that made me reticent. The reticence transmuted into insecurity which morphed into denial which then became revulsion. I didn’t understand what the kink was about, made too many assumptions and declared that water cold without so much as putting a finely painted toenail in it. With a metric fuckton of emotional labor and some exploration with a few amazing submissives came the realization that a Mommy Domme is what I have been all along.
In the early days of my training at Hellfire Club in NYC in 1997, it was clear I was a little different. I have often called myself the Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer of domination, because I have always been so different from my sex worker peers. Or so I thought. Isn’t that funny how that works with some kinks? We would swear we are so different, the consummate misfit, only to one day discover that we had a peer group all along. At least, that is how it goes for the lucky ones. I wasn’t different from everyone, just everyone I had met up until that point. The internet was still a baby then, and my sample size of fetishists was limited to a few clubs I went to in lower Manhattan.
The Big Lie
The most effective piece of propaganda sold to us is that Big Dick is King. I can’t shout this from enough mountain tops. People who rant and rage against body shaming will still often have no problem making a small dick joke. Where did this even come from and why do we believe it? I had thought before writing this to do a deep dive on the history of how Size Queendom and the vaunted Big Dick Energy entered the chat, but really, at this point, I do not care. I love me some history of human fuckery, but right now I want to undo the damage more than anything else.
NaMYste: The Divine in Me Recognizes the Divine in…Me
“Namaste”. The word said at the close of yoga class is a balm on my soul. I feel the deep resonance of connection to my community, and sometimes it brings a tear to my eye. Despite my NYC hardened exterior, my center is ooey gooey. I want to belong in a world that places a premium on peace and love. Had I been alive in the 60’s I would have been an easy mark for a love cult, or started one. Chanting in a group makes my heart sing, and when we end by bowing to one another with Namaste, I am full of peace and contentment, and truly feel like the best version of myself when I am open and seeing others just as they are.
Self Care Through Solo Sex
How do you approach your body when you masturbate? Do you do it in secret? In a rush? Do you have a ritual where you get all the accoutrements ready at ahem at hand? When your hand or toy makes contact with your body, what is in your head? Where are you in space and time? Is your “self” even in your imaginings? Are you looking at a screen and not thinking about yourself at all?
We Need a Masturbation Reformation!
I am a sex coach, Domme and kink counselor. I spend all of my working moments and quite a bit of my personal life helping people navigate their orientations, kinks and troubles in the bedroom. It shatters my heart to see people in so much pain and so much of it is an easy fix that got conflated into something paralyzing. There is an overarching common factor…shame. For a society steeped in hedonism, it is truly remarkable to me how shame is omnipresent and makes it way into relationships in a most insidious way. I think if we are to make a very real effort to embrace our human sexuality, we need to start at the fundamental act of pleasure, masturbation.