Bad Night at the OTK Corral

Pretty much since I began to entertain sexual fantasies, there has always been an element of submissiveness-of being punished and humiliated, of being a martyred saint, receiving her torture in meek humility (thank you, Catholic Church). As an adult I've been exploring the boundries of how for I am able to go in power exchanging, surprised by just how far those limits can be. But while I am a "sub"- I do at times have "Domme" itchings. I have very little experience in real life; a couple of boyfriends spanked and penetrated, a woman friend I spanked a few times- that's pretty much it. Once in a while I do get in the mood toTop, and I log into my spanking/fetish site in search of a willing applicant.

When I've topped women on-line I try to do basically for them what I have had, or would want done to me. I might mix it up a little if they have differing fantasies or limits, but for the most part I project myself into their place, experiencing both positions at the same time. But with men it's trickier-I know a couple of Dominatrixes in real life, and they agree with my theory that subbies have a different set of desires than women who are submissives do; they like really extreme humiliation, especially verbal abuse in the "crawl to before your Mistress, worthless worm", "lick the bottom of your Mistress' boots, you disgusting piece of shit", and a whole bunch of other demeaning stff. They also seem to really go in for the Mistress/Queen worship-licking the dog shit off their Domme's boots and serving as her toilet. I absolutely love GF and wish to serve her in anyway I can, but laying under her open-mouthed as she empties her bowels and thanking her for it isn't realistically going to happen any time soon. Thankfully, since she's the one who has to kiss me I doubt she'll demand it.

Because of the gender/power dynamic, being a submissive woman is inherently different than it is for a man; for a man to be submissive in a F/m situation (I'm excluding M/m from this, because I don't know all that much about it) is an intentional, conscious inversion of gender roles that by it's very inversion reinforces those traditional gender roles. By the subbie being passive, subservient, receiving punishment and correction, even willingly offering up his body for violent penetration, he is electing to take become a woman. Consider sissification- where the subbie dressed in womens' clothes and forced to wear make-up, often climaxing in him being anally entered with a strap-on dildo; in all my conversations with men who want to top me in bizarre and disturbing ways (the strapped down forced pregnancy guy comes to mind), not a one has shown the least interest in humiliating me by dressing me up in boy's clothes and making me go outside and play catch with him.

Submission for women, on the other hand, is about exaggerating gender roles- I've been asked more than once how I reconcile being a Feminist and a submissive (usually by male Doms), a question that says far more about what he thinks about submissives than it does about being submissive. Kneeling alongside GF's chair nude except for an apron around my waist, my head bowed and holding a tray for her to set her drink on, I am a tableau of pure femininity at its weakest and most passive. By choosing to become this parody of Womanhood I am negating it-by owning my desire and deciding to be bound, spanked, humiliated and used as a fuck toy I am breaking from the confines of the powerless woman.

I had a point to all this...oh, yeah, Topping. So last night I decided to set up a room that would be sure to draw the subs in: I_Heart_Butt_Plugs. And of course, as soon as I opened door, in they came. I'd make conversation with them once they entered, getting a sense of how articulate they were (pretty important when only communicating through text) and how developed their imagination was. Ended up with three over the course of the night, all a complete disaster.

subbie #1: this guy seemed pretty interesting, telling me right away all the many, many things he enjoys inserting into his anus. He was around my age, which is always nice when at a site where most of the regulars are older than my parents, and the profile pictures of his smooth, plump butt certainly didn't hurt. We ended up moving to Yahoo Messenger, since there's less lag time and it doesn't crash every 30 minutes like the spanking site. After a bit of teasing conversation, I received an invitation to view his web cam. I have a couple of friends with these, and while I don't really understand why I'm supposed to be so fascinated with a grainy video of someone typing on a keyboard, I figured, why not? The screen popped up and there he sat, framed from chest to mid thigh, bucknaked and pulling on his bizarrely large, uncircumcised penis. Despite being 1am, I shrieked like a 13 year old girl- It's been more than a year since I've come face to face with a penis (except for porny penis, but that never looks like they actually do in real life...cock make-up?). And again, this one was insanely big (at least based on my limited reference base)- like an eel wearing a crimson turtle neck. After a few minutes of me laughing uncontrollably at the sight of watching him masturbate his monstrous member, unable to type anything more profound or penetrating than OMG!!!! over and over again, I guess I bored him enough to close out and disconnect with me. Because based on our earlier conversation, he was interesting and diverse in his fetishes, and realistically, it was a penis to genuinely be admired-I'm just waaaay too immature to be able to handle the idea of being entered with something the size of a canteen. OMG!!

yanked this from detrande's site-it's seriously great...go there!

subbie #2: this one came in not long after, sporting a nickname like littlewhiteundies or boybriefs or something like that. He started out right away telling me what a bad boy he'd been, and that he sure hoped I wouldn't punish him with a spanking and a butt plug. I bit, and asked what exactly he'd done deserving punishment; after a few hems and haws he finally admitted that he had skid marks in his underwear. This was definitely not even remotely close to any fantasy I myself have ever had, but he seemed to have fleshed it out with such exacting detail that I wanted to investigate more. He kept leaving me bread crumb trails of escalating punishments (when you sub on line, you try to subtly work into conversation what you want to happen), until it got to the point of him have to chose between half a dozen suppositories shoved up his ass before being plugged and spanked, or getting a punishment enema. I told him I would put his shit-smeared undies over his head, and if he continued to whine I'd stuff them in his mouth. It was obvious he wanted me to berate him for his poor bathroom habits, so I did so (knowing full well he was frantically abusing himself as I did). He went so far as to suggest his dirty anus was a result a hairy butt and maybe he should wear a diaper. I suggested instead maybe we ought to pluck out each and every one of those ass hairs, to which he remained silent for a minute or so, then left the room. I don't know if he left because he had orgasmed; some men have a bad habit of logging off right after they cum without a thank you or goodbye...or certainly any effort on their part to assist in your pleasure. Or did I cross some completely arbitrary and meaningless line in what he considered good and bad form- and he stormed out angry? As little as I want to upset people, I do kind of like the idea that while he was intensely aroused by having large objects shoved up his fecal-coated anus in punishment for a humiliating failure to fulfill basic good hygiene habits-even having his dirty underwear stuffed into his mouth, but the suggestion of me tugging on the hairs growing around his butthole is so disgusting and wrong that he couldn't even say goodbye. Sure, why not?

Did a google image search for "dirty underwear"...this is the only I found that didn't make me want to sit in a scalding tub of water crying as I try to scrub myself clean

subbie #3: After dirty butthole boy any arousal I might have enjoyed earlier in the evening had completely dried up; people who are not anal erotic may not understand this, but my intense fixation on anything anal stops short of the scatological. I'm not squeamish-or even claiming there hasn't been a pair or two of underwear I embarrassingly stuffed to the bottom of the hamper- it just doesn't do anything for me sexually. I continued moderating the room, though, because I was enjoying the conversations I was having with the different people who were curious about the name. It was pretty late, and I was settled in enjoying light banter with a few friends when a subbie I was unfamiliar with came in. He introduced himself and mostly hung back not participating in the conversation until all the other men had left the room. Once it was only me and another woman "P.", he finally spoke up. He asked the two of us if we had ever Topped before, and we told him we had, he asked us a long serious of questions about how specifically we had dominated our partners. He told us that he was interested in being on the receiving end of anal penetration, but didn't know what to expect. We both told him all we knew, P. a little more than me because she's more hetero and has had more experience on the giving side.

I saved this a while ago because I thought it was so absurd I might have a use for it, but now every time I open my picture file I have to see it...I'm sick of it, so here you go. Plus I figured readers bored with my story might enjoy it

After a good twenty minutes of questions about the best way to prepare for a strap-on and what to expect from the experience of being Topped by a woman, he finally wrote something along the lines of "let me tell you the real reason I am asking you these questions". He then explained to us that, of course, he would never-could never- submit to a woman Topping him or even taking charge during sex. After all, he was a man, and (as he kept telling us in three dimensional detail) a man of considerable size and strength- a size and strength that nature had bestowed upon him as proof of the man's role as the dominant sex. Yes, I should have just gone to bed and forgotten about it, but of course I could not. Partly because he held up as proof of woman's natural weakness (aside from our lack of upper body strength) that when he presented these facts to women they invariably either lost all composure and started screaming hysterically or ran away in tears...we are such emotional creatures. So P. and I (of course!) got suckered into this crank's desire to argue the hierarchy of gender, which seemed to mainly center on his ability to lift heavier objects than us.

I won't bore you with the whole thing- you already know all the arguments. You also know all my counter-arguments- or if you don't, you may want to do some serious consciousness-raising. It was a lot of that pseudo-romantic nonsense about how the man shows his true love for a woman by dominating and controlling her and how lucky she is to be fulfilled in her passive subservience to his masculinity. He did go on a weird tangent about how women wanting to wear the "manpants" (his term- which he used over and over) on reality television and the news causes divorce. While I don't know about newscasters' role, I do think womens' liberation and the breakdown of traditional gender roles is a contributor to the rise of divorce...but so what? Even as a child of divorce, I'm not really bothered that people choose to end unhappy marriages-the alternative is people staying with people they no longer love, making everyone miserable...plus, I'm not going to lie to you, absent father guilt gifts rock.

Then, from no where, he switched (not surprisingly, really) to religion in defense of his bullshit gender roles and the reason women shouldn't wear manpants. Of course, it's those very same bullshit gender roles and the restrictions on a staggering number of harmless activities (including manpants) that largely caused my distance from religion. He quickly picked up that I had grown up in the Catholic Church, and told me he as well was Roman Catholic. If in fact he is Catholic, he has either very recently converted or is one of those who were only nominally Catholic growing up and only really connected with it as an adult. Whatever his specific situation was, he knew fuck-all about either the history or the core doctrine of his denomination (this is pretty common with Catholics who went to public school). After an hour trying to explain to him who Thomas Aquinas was and the significance he had in church ideology, I gave up and went to bed...even the faintest hint of arousal long, long gone, replaced with a dull aching frustration. I think I'm only going to Top women from now on...

Lily Allen is going to kick your hating ass.