Posts

What Does a Dominatrix Look Like?

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A lot of people are talking about the Netflix show about a young Dominatrix. So far, I’d say it’s the equivalent of a waitress putting herself through school being called a professional restaurateur. She’s no pro, perhaps she will become one. We’ll see. In the meantime, here’s a little revision on a piece I wrote back in 2010 on the beauty and diversity of the Dominatrix.

 

Bear in mind, most Dominatrices use the pronoun “she” no matter the gender identity and some of use have been using Masculine pronouns in scenes for years…more on that later.

 

“Come to the edge, he said. They said: We are afraid. Come to the edge, he said. They came. He pushed them and they flew.” 

Guillaume Apollinaire

One of my Sisyphean challenges in life is to demystify the myth of the Dominatrix – to fill out the missing gaps and one-dimensional characteristics that permeate our culture. The unique histories of Dominatrices inform their brave work and pioneering spirit. If you could look closely, (where are the stats anyway?), you would see an illustrious array of talent, skills, philosophies, and courage.

 

Like many other professionals I know, I too, have a unique history. Raised urban poor, in my family I went on to obtain the first High School degree, and eventually a Master’s degree. Literary and theatrical studies combined with extensive pedagogical experience continue to inform my work as a BDSM lecturer, educator, and writer. Years before I would begin to fully understand my own leanings towards Female Domination and BDSM practices, I wrote my graduate thesis on “Subversive Practices in Feminist Performance Art”. Further, like many of my colleagues, I may not fit the stereotype of the Hollywood-produced leather cat suit clad man-eating vixen, but I have practiced the art of Domination with intention and commitment for many years.

 

The media stereotype of the Dominatrix is rather one-dimensional. The infiltration of SM culture into mainstream society leans primarily towards the fetishistic and aesthetic aspects of BDSM culture, avoiding any deeper underlying issues to the person and her work. In “real” life, Dominatrices are generally stunning; though not always mainstream beauties. We often stand out in a crowd because we tend to be individualistic, living life to the fullest and more often than not standing out as a leader – the one to take control in any number of ways. 

 

I’d love to see more research done that would illuminate the complexity of a profession that has been misrepresented and misunderstood by sociaty. Like within most professions, a spectrum of representation exists, eg, not all lawyers are bad and not all police officers are good. The Dominatrix also has many layers to her persona, and I have been pondering the many variations exist for some time. 

 

Here is a partial list of some of the different types of Dominatrices, with basic names that I came up with off the top of my head, many of which can overlap with each other, and others that never mix.
 
The Domestic Disciplinarian: Could be your Aunty or Woman next door, until she puts you over her knee.
The Medical Specialist: Plays Doctor or Nurse to perfection.
The Rubber Mistress: Has all the rubber clothes and gear you could possible imagine.
The Goddess: Demands worship.
The Fetishist: Fetish is her motivator.
The Bondage Mistress/Top: Loves rope and knows how to use it.
The Whip Mistress: Whip wielding from single tail to cat o’ nine.
The Predator: Hunts you down and take you down.
The Philosopher: Keeps you in line with her words and ethics.
The Classic: Domestic Disciplinarian, Whip Wielder, Bondage Expert and more! The General Practitioner, (also with specialties) of Dominatrices.
The Good Girl Gone Bad: Looks angelic or like the girl next door.
The Seductress: Casts her spell to entice you.
The Counselor/Guide: Takes you where you need to go. 
The Emasculator: Wants your balls, you don’t need them.

 

Of course, this list is not exhaustive and as I began noting all the variations I realized that not only are there so many types, but that many of us embody any number of Strong Female Authoritarian Archetypes within our Dominatrix Personas which we invoke when appropriate to the scene: Queen, Priestess, Warrior, and Mother to name a few. Just because a Dominatrix self-presents in one archetypal role does not mean she cannot employ another type when necessary however, the Bondage Mistress can care for her bound subject in a very Maternal or Motherly way and once the Predator has captured her prey, she can employ the Goddess to finalize her objectives. Conversely, it would be quite useless for the Whip Mistress to whip the Domestic Discipline client as a Medical Specialist while wearing a black rubber cat suit. Not only do the genres not go together, but the Domestic Discipline aficionado’s needs will not be met and no catharsis would ensue leaving the session flat and ineffectual. 

 

I have often said that Dominatrices are Psychic Waste Managers, encouraging people to excavate parts of themselves that society deeply discourages: the primal sexual selves. If the libido is not allowed to emerge in a positive creative way, it can be destructive. I also say that the sacred and lascivious are flip sides of the same coin. Knowing who you are as a Dominatrix and how to go about employing different aspects of your self in the work helps achieve therapeutic results with your clientele. There is an old adage to the profession, we may not be therapists, but the work is therapeutic. Knowing oneself in Domination is particularly crucial because of the nature of psycho-sexual work. Libidinal drives inform our every movement, hence the work itself elicits the question of what drives us sexually. Personally, although I love whipping, I do not consider myself a whip Mistress. When I see my esteemed Whip Mistress colleagues doing the dance of fire and precision, I am truly humbled by their abilities. Would I desire to be them? Yes, but honestly, I must honor my primary arousal in order to be a better Dominant. I suppose I am an Archeologist of BDSM. I love exploring and excavating psycho-sexual terrain, and the whips and other accoutrements are simply tools that help me unearth buried artifacts.

 

In examining difference, we must also examine similarity. We Dominatrices all have sadistic streaks, or at the very least enjoy giving pleasure – and if a masochist seeks pain for their pleasure, we are happy to accommodate. We also, ideally, have hard skills in Domination, be they rope rigging, electro-play, or whip wielding.  Often motivated by deep fetishistic desires, we all care about our clientele in a professional fashion. Dominatrices have many similarities but perhaps only one commonality: whatever the archetype or role that we play, we need to push our subjects and ourselves a little deeper into the dark so that we all may extend our psychosexual travels a little further, returning each time with a bit more knowledge and a lot more savvy. 
 
For more information about how to become a Dominatrix or Bondassage Practitoner, email me
bdsm and its healing powers

Healing Through BDSM

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How does BDSM facilitate personal growth?

bdsm and its healing powersIf you’ve been following my writing over the years, you may have learned that I live with transgenerational trauma which led me to experience BDSM as instrumental to my healing process. Although technically I was kinky from the beginning of my sexual explorations, it was only when I read about a Dominatrix in a New Yorker piece back in 1991, that I had an Ahah! moment. I said to myself, “I could do that. I would be great, and I would love it”. Honestly though, I didn’t realize exactly what I was drawn to around kink and BDSM. Initially I also had internalized shame and confusion around being a deviant, pervert, outsider, (choose your term), and I eventually came to realize what drew me in and kept me coming back: healing through BDSM.

No matter your background or what drives you to explore the vast realms of BDSM, you can still benefit from possibilities. I’d like to share with you a few ways in which BDSM has facilitated the healing process for me.

Transparency Any practice can claim to encourage transparency, or the act of being fully clear and honest in our speech, and actions which leads to deeper trust. Abuse survivors find it, (really), hard to trust. When we know that our partners are fully disclosing any truths that may be harmful to the relationship, we can relax into creating healthy attachment and long term relationships.

Boundaries/Safe words As part of the act of being transparent, agreements/boundaries are drawn and respected. Safe words are used when boundaries, (often unforeseen), arise, allowing for play to shift to a more manageable space, perhaps even stopping to allow for space and compassion. When boundaries are respected, once again, trust can be built, rebuilt, and loving healthy relationships can foster and grow. 

Consent Part of the healing process for all of us, is to radically accept who we are, what turns us on, what brings us pleasure, even if society may deem it abnormal. Part of consent is to validate these desires and give permission to each other to do certain things or act certain ways. If you want me to whip you until you cry and I consent, and then I want you to crawl to me on all fours and beg for it and you consent, we have a mutually consensual agreement that can help empower us to feel more authentic – or in psychological speak, to become more self actualized.

The Practice Much like yoga, or meditation, or whatever healing art you may practice, half of the work is showing up, the other is the journey of the practice. Creating scenes with our partner, and exercising all of the above practices, will help us know ourselves better, which will expose how fallible we can be, and ideally bring us back to compassion and integrity. What’s more healing than that?

Surrender Whether you are a top, bottom, switch, Dominant, or submissive, there will always be a process of letting go, surrendering to the moment, (which is why bondage is so imperative! Watch for a forthcoming piece on that). If I decide to suspend you, but your body is too tense in that moment, I may need to surrender my idea of suspending you just then, and explore alternatives to get you there. And you, as bottom, will need to let go of that suspension in that moment and surrender to my lead. It’s a dance of control and surrender.

Energetically, we all are giving, receiving, and validating. Although BDSM is a fulfilling form of adult play and can be quite simply put, amusing as hell, it can also be extremely liberating and healing in the process. Enjoy your new found freedom!

Are you ready to experience your own pleasure and personal growth through BDSM? Click here for possibilities

Managing Pyschic Waste in the New Year

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Previously published in Spirit of Desire edited by Lee Harrington.

Managing Psychic Waste: Transcendence Through Humiliation

You say I hold the key and perhaps I do.
I hang people for a living.
Listening to their stories of respectability and convention.
I cleanse their darkest psyches and make them feel whole again.
I help them orgasm too.
I struggle to know what I already know
and die a little death every day.

Watch me taking handfuls of red leaf lettuce, carrot scraps, coffee grounds, and other sundry waste I have recently disposed of, and see how gingerly I place them into my submissive’s mouth while gently cajoling, “chew” and “swallow”. The eyes are wide open, bulging a bit, horrified and amazed at the ability to eat my garbage in an erotically charged environment. I feel myself gagging internally without stopping, even hesitating, as I cram in more and more remnants of last night’s dinner, this morning’s breakfast, and perhaps a well placed treat or two. My subject suspended in air, rocking gently back and forth as I thrust my pelvis into the groin, pushing deeper, my hand in throat, my hips between legs. His erection is enormous and I am not even touching him there. Not physically at least. Just as I feel the energy expanding, I begin to vomit on the body that was once a high-powered corporate lawyer. My subject explodes wildly: vomit, cum, sweat shooting through the air, cascading into a cavalcade of erotic ecstasy and primal bliss. For a moment, both of us are transported to the space of being and nothingness, at once together, and then no more. Afterwards, he is glowing, radiant and shiny, all the dark clouds peeled away. I am pleased then, knowing that the feeling will last a while; even if he doesn’t realize it, he feels it. It’s why he came to see me in the first place.
I am a Psychic Waste Manager. That is my calling. It is a spiritual quest that brought me to realizing my path over ten years ago. I simply wanted to “do” what I do well in this world, to have it matter in a way that would make my life meaningful, and to help others along they way. I knew I would teach, but academia stifled my creativity and my libido, (well, except masturbating between the stacks at the library). I never thought I would be known as a Dominatrix, but I knew from the beginning of my BDSM explorations that it was bigger, deeper, and more powerful than any mainstream representation could replicate. The view of the Dominatrix being the care-free catsuit clad vixen about to unleash her sadism on any victims, willing or not, is completely mythological. The complexity, the aching, the rawness of my work astounds me sometimes. The beauty in having the conditioned self stripped away so that the primal sexual self becomes revealed, if only for a moment, is nothing less than a stunning achievement. And it takes energetic exchange with another(s) to reveal the primal force. Stripping away conditioning, social mores, the voices of ancestors is what I do best, yet I am only a catalyst, a conduit for reconditioning, an outlet for repressed energy.
Intention is everything in the arts of healing and magic. You can strip away someone’s ego, but if you do it half assed, without clarity of vision, you could not only ruin a good scene, you could also defragment a soul. Every day in life our souls are battered. Each time we confront our bosses, our kids, our partners, we run the risk of losing bits of our selves, or even worse, forming solid ideas of what the self is, thinking that we can actually explain away our desires and fears with logic and reason. Can you imagine explaining how shooting your wad into the air while eating a woman’s garbage as she vomits on you is transcendent and worthy of discourse? Who would listen to this without judgment that you are a deviant, (and surely you are) or fear that you may sully their little world of comfort and respectability? Better yet, how do you explain what you do when this is what you do, every day of your life, whether it’s with a client, a loved one, or an acquaintance who really needs a sexual psychic cleanse?
I recently had an incident occur that left me reeling with debris, a non erotic experience in humiliation wherein I transcended but only through detachment, not through connection. Therein lies the rub.
Speaking of rubbing, what humiliation does is peels back the layers of civility. If you keep rubbing, you will find the rawness underneath. That rawness is where you find the goodness. Perhaps I am a bit of an excavator also, a trash picker, if you will. I pick out the extraneous matter, the layers of conventionality and civility, and give you back your id.
Clarifying how I’m using my terms will be helpful. Humiliation sits within a spectrum of the psyche beginning with embarrassment leading to humiliation leading to degradation. It can be physical or verbal and often both. It is subjective, contingent, and incredibly powerful, compelling. The act of being embarrassed flushes our face and consequently genitalia. It can be exciting and lead to turn on but is not necessarily humiliation in and of itself. Embarrassment occurs usually when bringing attention to something about the person – which is why objectification is so useful in embarrassment play. For example, if I wish to embarrass someone just enough to start the turn on I might say, “ooh, look how tight your pants are” or if more familiar “I bet you suck great cock”. I’m simply making an observation, perhaps an assertion, but I am not excavating a deeper part of their sense of self or their identity.
Humiliation rips away what is superfluous in some ways, but is also necessary for survival in other ways, (clothes are not necessary in temperate climate, but mandated by social mores). It generally requires tapping into the sense of self, utilizing observation to begin the process perhaps, but also bumping up against a deeper truth: “Oh look at the way you suck my cock. You are a positively perfect cocksucker!”. This example also bumps up against a more. Generally speaking, no one is supposed to be proud or pleased to be a good cocksucker. They’re not even supposed to say the word!
Degradation tramples something that they hold near and dear to their hearts, a core value, or something that the person is particularly proud of, especially if it feels intrinsic to their being. For example intelligence, saying “you are stupid” could challenge self identity in an non-erotic way. Conversely, if the person actually embodies or at least feels as though they carry said traits negatively, (eg. you are fat), then you are perpetuating low self esteem. Degradation tramples on the worthiness of the subject. Saying “You’re the worst cock sucker I’ve ever met” to a person with an incredibly challenging gag reflex potentially supports their notions of lack of worth for not being able to perform oral sex well. Of course, if it’s an amazing porn star with deep throating capabilities, it may be a huge turn on to be critiqued on their cock sucking skills.
It’s not what you do it’s how you do it. I love making bottoms squirm, beg, fearful, and desperate. Scraping away all their gender codifications and turning them into the little sex kittens they crave to be turns me on to now end. The thing about humiliation is that when done well, it always gives back. Imagine now with me a large, hairy masculine construction worker dressed in fishnet stockings, super high patent leather heels, ruffled crotchless panties, butt plug in his ass, 9” dildo in his heavily rouged lips being beaten with a whip and told what an incredible slut he is. I love watching his gestures transform into the sultry slut he knows he is. As I stroke my cock telling him how he’s gonna take it, and all my friends too, I relish the discards of societal contempt and I hold this experience for both of us to reclaim. I can reclaim the fact that of the few options given to me from my fucked up childhood, I still found a way to help and recharge. I can also see him basking in the glory of the dream that he was never allowed: to be the best slut he can. Of course no gender is exempt from this equation. We all have our psychic waste.
I like to say that the sacred and profane are flip sides to the same coin. My point being that they are no less different than they are alike. Its like one person’s trash is another’s treasure. If I slap your face repeatedly with pure contempt or indifference, I am not there with you I am merely performing a function. If however, I slap your face hard and repeatedly while staring directly in your eyes, periodically having you open your mouth for a an opulent pearl of spit from my mouth and telling you all the things I’m going to do to you if you do not swallow, (or if you do, depending on the person), can transform a rather dry pornographic act into a deeper more meaningful exchange.
No matter what, reassurance or acceptance is imperative post scene: it’s the maintenance after. If I have excavated your matter, flung it around, then given it back, regardless of shiny, there will be a mess. Taking the time to cool my subject off, or get them warm, offer water, hot shower, a hug or all of the above keeps the scene clean. Nothing is sterile in this world, just ask a surgeon. Cleaning up after yourself is the best you can do as a Psychic Waste Manager. Having someone dress up like a dog, crawl around on all fours, bark etc, can be an embarrassment to some, humiliation to others, and downright degrading to the rest. That is why it’s imperative to know your subject, listen to them while you are asking questions, preparing the scene, keep those boundaries in mind while playing, and clean up your mess.
Honestly, I think that the clients I work with oftentimes do not even realize what it is that happens to them. I remember when I used to rent the space from a friend of mine. She would sometimes sit outside just before the session was over, waiting for my text to enter. Oftentimes, she would not have to see the text because she would see a person departing from the space, glowing, grinning, walking with much more pep in their step. The experience of having sexual psychic waste excavated, recycled, and given back all shiny and loved makes another person’s trash this person’s treasure.

Eve Minax 2011

safewords and consent in BDSM

Oops, I Forgot My Safeword!

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In the realm of BDSM and kink play, safe, sane and consensual rests as the buzz phrase to encourage newcomers to join (we’re safe!), illicit normalcy (we’re not crazy!), and utilize tactics to insure we’re all in this together (we all agreed it was ok … right?).

Let’s look at our phrase a little more closely. Safe: I will never hurt you physically or mentally. Sane: I’m not certifiable, I promise! Consensual: I will only do to you what we have previously agreed upon or what I know you like.

Sounds easy, right? Not so fast … how does one maintain a long term status of being “safe, sane, and consensual”? Well, mostly through referrals based on their humanity and appropriate observance of safe words.  “Safe words” are often used to confirm “consensuality” but they are also often used as tactics in a covert war of passive aggressivity. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE safewords. Safewords used well are great indicators of limits that can tell you in a moment without dropping scene where your bottom is at. And as a top, you can ease off, toy with that limit for a bit, or push it, depending on the bottom and their psychological and physical state.

safewords and consent in BDSM

Awesome, you say, let’s run out and do a gang rape scene with a safe word – careful there. Many people have little emotional land mines of psychic waste that may emerge only in scene. Something may come up for them or for you that you never expected. More often than not, in play, psychic waste can be triggered by the simplest of phrases, (I know a woman who cannot be called “baby” in scene), causing the triggered person to become overwhelmed and often distressed to the point that only years of therapy can help.

Noticing when you are pushing your bottom to the point of their safe word, even if they do not call it requires being present and fully observant of your bottom, because guess what? Due to stoicism, ignorance, (thinking you want them to “take it’), or endorphins flying so high they don’t feel the over extension of their boundaries, they will not always use their safe word and oh yes, someone will probably get hurt.

Does this mean “playing” (what a fun term), is better off when done “safely”… ok honey, I will just pat your ass and call you kitten … No. Playing will always push someone’s boundaries at some point. Talking/negotiating is paramount, whether it’s for 10 mins or an hour, start somewhere and establish a safe word.  Compassion comes in handy for both the top and the bottom to forgive any unintentional misdeeds. You must be able to forgive yourself and forgive the other. And finally, are you committed to continuing the play? Be honest.

But first a word from our sponsor … I have a gazilion years of experience and I still fuck up. Yes, once in a blue moon or every 14 years I fuck up. I recently had a little mishap where I called a player out on a rape fantasy. Too real. He lost his trust in me in the moment and called his safe word. No worries, we resolved the scene and scheduled another time to play.

We are special people (the naked horned beast’s), chosen ones. We know what it’s like to be abused and therefore we abuse no one. My personal favorites are the ones who know the fine line. I like to take and kidnap them through seduction or coersion, it doesn’t matter …

Clothes off, wallet or purse locked tight in a safe or better yet, thrown away … all their own doing … they are mine to do with what I will. I like towering over my helpless “victim” tightly bound in bondage and squirming beneath me, afraid and defiant simultaneously. We know it’s a game and yet it seems so real. They are naked, exposed, and completely vulnerable to my vast array of whims. What will it be today? Shall I beat them with a sjambock until they beg for mercy? Shall I take them over my spanking horse, tightly bound, administer a hot soapy enema and rape their ass repeatedly, or perhaps I will apply electricals to their genitalia and watch them scream and squirm, wanting more and yet absolutely terrified at how far I can go, we can go together.

People are afraid of themselves at the end of the day.

Finally, I say, I can do all three, I can do whatever I want because, 1. We have a safe word or 2. We have no safeword.

My most recent “no safe word” subject and I have been playing for years. In fact, he is featured in some of my most masochistic videos. I have even been asked on numerous occasions how much negotiating was done prior to our play. None, I respond, his only limits are bodily fluids, which make me often taunt him with them anyhow  😉 

Ultimately, the safe word will not matter, because I have been cognizant of their psychic and physical space and I know what I’m doing – and so will you if you pay attention.

Bottom line:  live and learn, live and learn.

Addendum: Look up RACK (or Risk Aware Consensual Kink) or read this wonderful piece on Consent by Flaming June.