Who I am and Why I'm Here
I am Mistress Lane and my sub is a beautiful, wonderful man who suffers so prettily for me. he chooses to remain nameless not just in this blog but in our scenes as well. he will be writing about that choice soon, and posting regularly.
I am typically a shy, good natured woman with a 9-5 job, 2 kids, a house, bills, and family woes. I am a single mom and my kids spend lots of weekends with their father during which time my sub and I play.
I have never been known for violence or outbursts-- they are very rare for me. I tend to be an emotional "bottler." I usually hold back my emotions until the pressure causes uncontrollable crying jags or the occasional raised voice. As Mistress Lane, however, I am in control of each moment and movement. The sensation of power makes this "bottling" unnecessary, makes me able to share myself wholly, honestly with my lover. That is why I made the choice to study and practice BDSM. Not because I am power hungry or to compensate for something that I am missing in my life. Being able to issue orders, be obeyed, enforce limits and be adored for it is empowering and enables true openness between my sub and myself. When we slide out of our respective "roles" I can feel his guard go back up and I'm sure he can feel the same in me.
As we take this journey, learn more and discover things about each other and the community, we will post our thoughts etc. My sub is studying some of the psychological aspects of this kind of lifestyle and I am sure will have brilliant analysis of it. He works slowly and meticulously, but I will have him at least post an introduction of himself soon.
Our First Time
One Sunday morning, my lover and I had the most incredible argument. One in which I was prepared to leave him for good because I felt that our communication had broken down irreparably. As I gathered my things to leave his home, we talked and fussed and raise our voices... and got no where. Finally he told me to leave, essentially kicked me out of his home, but in the same breath he said "If you leave, you know you aren't welcome back." That told me 2 things: he was still truly upset and angry and he still wanted me-- in his home, in his life. So I refused to leave.
"We're going to talk this through. If you want me out, kick me out." I told him sternly.
"I think I just did, I told you to get out." He smartly responded.
"You want me out that bad-- call the police." And to my shock and horror, he did just that.
I got up, in tears, in shock, grieving for a relationship that was clearly over. He hung up the phone assuring the police that they were not needed after all and before I could make it to the door to leave, we were suddenly talking through problems we'd had for months-- issues of the mind, the bed and most of all the heart.
Eventually, we were holding one another and crying... and soon we were having that all too amazing make up sex. That was when it happened-- he asked me to hit him. He asked me to slap him. He'd asked before and I'd delivered mild blows to his ass or back, but I had never before that day slapped anyone. Looking down, into his eyes from my perch atop him I saw how much he wanted me to do this, so I did it. The first was a light blow to his right cheek, and I watched him pump his hips into me responding to the sensation. To my shock and significant fear, I wanted desperately to hit him again-- hard. Not because I was angry, but because he clearly wanted that, and it made me tingle with electricity and life! I waited until he asked again, and his response was stronger, and before either of us realized it, I was giving him orders, slapping him, calling him names, paddling him with a hairbrush, and eventually fucking his ass with a strap-on (that we took a special trip out of the house to go buy) before urinating on him in the tub. By the end of the day we were both exhausted, sore, and incredibly happy in each others' arms. We'd both had countless orgasms and talked more honestly about our relationship and sex life than we ever had before.
For several days afterward I was a research fiend (as was he) and thanks to innumerable bloggers, medical and psychological journals I was assured that I was not a freak or a horrible person. Nothing that we did was outside of the BDSM mantra "Safe, Sane, and Consensual."
I guess the biggest reason I'm writing this now even though there are a million blogs about BDSM out there is to assure those just finding this as a desire or even a need in their relationships that their is nothing wrong with you... that after that first time you try it things will go crazily wrong, and spectacularly right.
Our first planned scene was a disaster-- beautifully arranged and costumed...until I went off book... and somehow wound up crying in his arms repeating that I wasn't sure what had happened. he held and loved me,whispered reassurances and calmed me. Then we showered, talked for several hours, engaged in a light scene that reassured us both before we slept with him curled up safely in my lap.
I tell you this so that you understand that not every scene goes the way it is planned, and that in the first weeks we have struggled to find the place we both want to be. It's hard to talk through what's going to happen when you're still discovering and experiementing with what you like and what your partenar wants. Our scene broke down because I thought I would like something that it turns out I hated. I just have to remember it happens and things won't be perfect all the time. I have to learn, and give Myself time to grow into My role. It will be worth the work and the tears, and I can already see that in his beautiful golden green eyes. So the next time we end up with a broken scene for whatever reason, I have them there to remind me to give Myself time and forgiveness, and so that we can give each other comfort, and try again.
I am Mistress Lane and my sub is a beautiful, wonderful man who suffers so prettily for me. he chooses to remain nameless not just in this blog but in our scenes as well. he will be writing about that choice soon, and posting regularly.
I am typically a shy, good natured woman with a 9-5 job, 2 kids, a house, bills, and family woes. I am a single mom and my kids spend lots of weekends with their father during which time my sub and I play.
I have never been known for violence or outbursts-- they are very rare for me. I tend to be an emotional "bottler." I usually hold back my emotions until the pressure causes uncontrollable crying jags or the occasional raised voice. As Mistress Lane, however, I am in control of each moment and movement. The sensation of power makes this "bottling" unnecessary, makes me able to share myself wholly, honestly with my lover. That is why I made the choice to study and practice BDSM. Not because I am power hungry or to compensate for something that I am missing in my life. Being able to issue orders, be obeyed, enforce limits and be adored for it is empowering and enables true openness between my sub and myself. When we slide out of our respective "roles" I can feel his guard go back up and I'm sure he can feel the same in me.
As we take this journey, learn more and discover things about each other and the community, we will post our thoughts etc. My sub is studying some of the psychological aspects of this kind of lifestyle and I am sure will have brilliant analysis of it. He works slowly and meticulously, but I will have him at least post an introduction of himself soon.
Our First Time
One Sunday morning, my lover and I had the most incredible argument. One in which I was prepared to leave him for good because I felt that our communication had broken down irreparably. As I gathered my things to leave his home, we talked and fussed and raise our voices... and got no where. Finally he told me to leave, essentially kicked me out of his home, but in the same breath he said "If you leave, you know you aren't welcome back." That told me 2 things: he was still truly upset and angry and he still wanted me-- in his home, in his life. So I refused to leave.
"We're going to talk this through. If you want me out, kick me out." I told him sternly.
"I think I just did, I told you to get out." He smartly responded.
"You want me out that bad-- call the police." And to my shock and horror, he did just that.
I got up, in tears, in shock, grieving for a relationship that was clearly over. He hung up the phone assuring the police that they were not needed after all and before I could make it to the door to leave, we were suddenly talking through problems we'd had for months-- issues of the mind, the bed and most of all the heart.
Eventually, we were holding one another and crying... and soon we were having that all too amazing make up sex. That was when it happened-- he asked me to hit him. He asked me to slap him. He'd asked before and I'd delivered mild blows to his ass or back, but I had never before that day slapped anyone. Looking down, into his eyes from my perch atop him I saw how much he wanted me to do this, so I did it. The first was a light blow to his right cheek, and I watched him pump his hips into me responding to the sensation. To my shock and significant fear, I wanted desperately to hit him again-- hard. Not because I was angry, but because he clearly wanted that, and it made me tingle with electricity and life! I waited until he asked again, and his response was stronger, and before either of us realized it, I was giving him orders, slapping him, calling him names, paddling him with a hairbrush, and eventually fucking his ass with a strap-on (that we took a special trip out of the house to go buy) before urinating on him in the tub. By the end of the day we were both exhausted, sore, and incredibly happy in each others' arms. We'd both had countless orgasms and talked more honestly about our relationship and sex life than we ever had before.
For several days afterward I was a research fiend (as was he) and thanks to innumerable bloggers, medical and psychological journals I was assured that I was not a freak or a horrible person. Nothing that we did was outside of the BDSM mantra "Safe, Sane, and Consensual."
I guess the biggest reason I'm writing this now even though there are a million blogs about BDSM out there is to assure those just finding this as a desire or even a need in their relationships that their is nothing wrong with you... that after that first time you try it things will go crazily wrong, and spectacularly right.
Our first planned scene was a disaster-- beautifully arranged and costumed...until I went off book... and somehow wound up crying in his arms repeating that I wasn't sure what had happened. he held and loved me,whispered reassurances and calmed me. Then we showered, talked for several hours, engaged in a light scene that reassured us both before we slept with him curled up safely in my lap.
I tell you this so that you understand that not every scene goes the way it is planned, and that in the first weeks we have struggled to find the place we both want to be. It's hard to talk through what's going to happen when you're still discovering and experiementing with what you like and what your partenar wants. Our scene broke down because I thought I would like something that it turns out I hated. I just have to remember it happens and things won't be perfect all the time. I have to learn, and give Myself time to grow into My role. It will be worth the work and the tears, and I can already see that in his beautiful golden green eyes. So the next time we end up with a broken scene for whatever reason, I have them there to remind me to give Myself time and forgiveness, and so that we can give each other comfort, and try again.
~Mistress Lane
that was good to read, thankyou!
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