There are other differences.  You and your husband have likely been together a long time, and until now, you never considered the possibility of enslaving him, nor did he imagine becoming your slave.  The two of you built your marriage on a more conventional paradigm and you’ve grown accustomed to it.  To change, you would have to overcome a great deal of habit, and habit is a powerful force.

If you’ve been married more than a couple of years, your husband’s feelings for you have matured.  He’s not in love with you in the passionate and desperate way he once was.  He may like you and enjoy your company, and we’ve already established that he’s committed to you, but his affection lacks intensity.  In all likelihood, he’s also learned to control his lust for you, and you’re not quite sure you could lead him into the Loop.

The two of you almost certainly live together; setting up a common household is a gesture of commitment so nearly universal that it seems part of the definition.  Cohabitation gives the process of sexually enslaving your husband a different feel from the process of enslaving a casual lover.  You can’t easily separate from him by more than a short distance, nor for more than a brief time, so it takes greater determination to enforce a prolonged period of abstinence:  your own lust will tempt you to relent; he can wear you down with almost continuous protest; perhaps he’ll even retaliate in nonsexual ways that make your life difficult.

These factors operate to different degrees in different marriages, but invariably they conspire to make the average woman reluctant to attempt the enslavement of her husband.  Still, some try.  What does it take?  First it takes motivation.  The woman has to want to enslave her husband, and her desire has to be great enough to overcome her reluctance.  Second it takes a belief—a strong belief—that the attempt won’t harm the marriage even if it fails.

There are four circumstances that give rise to such a belief.  Your marriage won’t be hurt by an attempt to enslave your husband if he’s in love with you.  He’ll forgive you.  If he isn’t in love with you but likes you a lot, and your marriage is resilient, characterized by good humor, with no undercurrent of hostility, the same is true.  He’ll forgive you.

If your husband is so averse to intimacy that he spends as much time as possible away from you and seems emotionally withdrawn when he’s with you, an attempt to enslave him won’t do any harm unless he has a girlfriend on the side.  If the attempt fails, his behavior won’t change whether he forgives you or not.  The availability of another woman introduces an element of risk because he’ll be driven to seek comfort from her and he may never return.  (His aversion to intimacy doesn’t preclude his having a girlfriend, just as it didn’t preclude his initial involvement with you, because the circumstances of a casual relationship makes it easy for him to limit intimacy to a level that’s not a problem to him.  If he were to leave you and commit to her, he would soon become as distant and withdrawn with her as he is now, but that’s no help to you.)

Last and saddest, you can’t do any harm if your marriage is already doomed and you’re considering female domination because nothing else can save it.

This taxonomy is subject to the flaws inherent in all generalizations.  Regard it with caution and skepticism.  When I advised Francesca to enslave Roy, their relationship was so resilient as to appear indestructible.  It was characterized by a high degree of good humor and there was certainly no hostility between them.  Still, she was sure that if she attempted to enslave him rather than just making bondage a part of their lovemaking, he would react so badly that she might lose him.  I think she was wrong, but there are other women who perceive their situations similarly and they can’t all be wrong.  Trust your judgment above mine.

I’ve been using a couple of words whose meanings I ought to clarify.  When I refer to an attempt at sexual enslavement, I mean a wholehearted effort that won’t admit of failure, not a desultory gesture that’s intended to be easy to back out of at the first sign of difficulty.  The vast majority of married men strongly resist female domination until they’ve become accustomed to it; a serious attempt expects this resistance and confronts it with determination sufficient to prevail.  If your marriage is a happy one, or your timing is good, or you appear to be joking, your husband may agree to become your love slave too easily.  If you’re serious about enslaving him, you’ll understand that it won’t be long before he tries to reclaim the control that’s traditionally his.  When that happens, you’ll enforce the agreement even if he fights hard to back out of it.  Sexual slavery isn’t playacting and it isn’t a sometime thing.  It works only if it’s always and only if it’s real.

An attempt can fail in several ways.  You can give up prematurely.  Your husband says, “My father warned me you’d turn out to be a bitch,” and you apologize and repent.  Or he goes into a sulk and you can’t bear to wait it out.  Or he ostentatiously books a tour of the brothels of Nevada and you take it as a serious threat.  If you’re going to enslave your husband, I urge you to decide at the outset that you won’t fail in this manner, then stick to that decision.  You’d do better not to try at all than to make only a token effort and give up.

If you attempt to enslave your husband for the purpose of squelching a pattern of behavior so destructive that your marriage must end unless it stops, the attempt should be considered a failure if the destructive behavior continues or resumes.

If your attempt isn’t a desperate effort to save a doomed marriage and you don’t give up prematurely, it’s still possible to fail.  Failure consists in being unable to make your husband turn on to you.  There are two ways in which this calamity can manifest itself.  The first is less painful.  You tell him, “We do sex my way or not at all,” and he replies, “Well, then, I guess we no longer have a sexual relationship,” and all goes on with his life as if that’s the reality he’s accepted.  He may leave you and sue for divorce; he may go on living with you, treating you as a dear friend who’s gone slightly mad; he may do something in between.  He may develop a novel adaptation all his own.  It doesn’t matter.  If he accepts the end of your sexual relationship as an accomplished fact, absolutely rejecting the alternative of sexual slavery, and if his attitude persists over a sufficiently long time that you’re sure he’s not faking, you’ve failed.

If he accedes to your demand for sexual control but doesn’t turn on to you, you’ve also failed.  If he lets you tie him up but you find you can’t make him come unless he cooperates, or worse yet, his cock won’t get hard for you, there’s nothing to be done for it.  He isn’t going to be your love slave and you’ll have to be satisfied with the more conventional commitment he’s already given you.  This sort of failure hurts even if you know your partner loves you, but don’t blame yourself and don’t blame him.  These things happen.

Some relationships, by their nature, make female domination infeasible.  You won’t be able to enslave your husband if you’ve grown to hate him, or if he hates you, or if he finds you physically repulsive, or if you find him physically repulsive.  Female domination won’t work in a marriage that’s become a battleground.  If you and your husband are always quarreling, not over one serious issue that’s threatening your marriage, but over everything, you may be tempted to enslave him to put an end to the fighting.  Not only will the attempt fail, it will become yet another subject of dispute that comes between you again and again.  Spare yourself some ugliness.  Don’t try.

There are seven reasons a woman might undertake to enslave her husband.  One is that she knows it would be an enjoyable and exciting way to handle the sexual aspect of the marriage, but she didn’t think of it, or didn’t have the courage to try, before the wedding.  Another is that she sees it as a gift to her man.  She wants to relieve him of some of the responsibility he feels; she wants to save him from performance anxiety; she wants to create a context in which he’ll know that every little kindness she shows him is given freely and lovingly; she knows it’s just what he’s always hoped for.  Whatever the particulars, the marriage is a happy one and her intent is to make it even better.

A third reason is that she needs control over the sexual aspect of the marriage because her partner has been managing it badly.  Francesca and Roy.  She didn’t quite enslave him, but she did take control of their lovemaking, and she did it out of necessity.  We’ve also seen elements of this motive in the relationships of Denise and Paula.  True, Denise was planning to enslave Tony anyway, but his insistence on anal sex added urgency and focus to the project.  An allegation that Jimmy was mismanaging his sexual relationship with Paula isn’t supported by the evidence, but she was uncomfortable, and she was able to relax when he agreed to be her slave.

Yet another reason a woman might set out to take control of her marriage is that her husband has been tyrannizing her and she wants out from under.  His tyranny might be subtle or it might be so ugly as to make the marriage insufferable.  He might be micromanaging her life to such a degree that it’s no longer hers; he might be verbally abusing her; he might be guilt-tripping her into living by the rules of his church.  Tyranny comes in many flavors.

A woman might also enslave her husband to pull him away from a habit that’s destroying him.  Overeating and gambling are two examples we’ll see in subsequent chapters.  In some cases even smoking can be cured.  Drinking, too, if it hasn’t yet become a full-blown addiction.

The sixth reason is the one I’ve seen most often.  The woman wants her husband’s attention.  She wants to be as much the center of his world as he is of hers, while he, emboldened by the depth of her commitment, ignores her in favor of other interests.

I’ve seen this so often because men are raised to fear intimacy and seek distance in their relationships with women.  It’s a cultural norm, and so many diversions are available that it’s easy to conform.  A man may devote his time and energy to his parents and siblings, to other women, to his job, to a club or hobby—the possibilities are endless, and it takes only one, immoderately pursued, to turn a husband into a stranger.  The more moderate pursuit of a variety of interests is harder to argue with, but no less effective as a means of distancing from a wife.

If you want your husband’s attention, and you apply the techniques of female domination properly, you’ll almost certainly get it.  Indeed you can get it all.  This presents the often difficult ethical question of how much attention you should demand.  It would be unhealthy for him to have no outside interests.

If your husband is a computer programmer and spends every other evening out drinking with his workmates, it wouldn’t be unreasonable of you to interfere.  You’d be doing the both of you a service.  If your husband is a computer programmer and spends one night a week working a suicide prevention hotline, let him.  You may feel he should be spending the time with you, but if you cut the hotline out of his life, and then you cut something else, and then another thing besides, you’ll eventually find that you’re married to an empty shell.  It isn’t much fun, and there’s no easy way to undo the damage.

The issue isn’t as simple as judging whether his interests have redeeming value.  If instead of a computer programmer who donates one night a week to a suicide prevention hotline, you’re married to a psychotherapist who does the same, your situation is quite different.  He’s an addict—an addict trained to diagnose and treat addiction, for that matter, and to recognize marital neglect—and it’s entirely appropriate for you to take action.

Say your husband likes to go hunting with his buddies.  You’ve heard them reminisce about their trips, and it gives you a bad feeling.  They seem to have been drunk much of the time, even while afield with their guns.  That sounds dangerous.  They take a lot of shots that miss their intended targets.  That sounds worse.  You’ve read a couple of stories about the horde of prostitutes who converge on the hunting grounds every season to service men just like these.  You haven’t overheard any mention of them, but then, you wouldn’t.  Should you end your husband’s participation in this ritual?  It wouldn’t be a bad idea.  You’d get more of his time for yourself; you might save him from being shot; you might save him from shooting one of his buddies; you might even save the both of you from AIDS.

Now say your husband likes to go hunting alone.  He hunts remote stretches of wilderness, closed to motor vehicles, that most men won’t even try to get to.  He scouts his favorite places in advance of the season, studying the terrain and the habits of the wildlife.  When he hunts, he travels light.  He almost always brings something back.  If it’s large, he constructs a travois for the purpose and drags it, alone, over whatever distance.  He never wastes game.  He’s built a little smokehouse and makes his own jerky, with which he fuels himself on subsequent trips.  He spends about fifty days a year on hunting and related activities, and you’d rather he spent that time with you.

Even if you’ve sexually enslaved him because the idea turned you on, leave his hunting alone.  You’ll be able to stop him, all right, but the results will be bad.  He’ll change in subtle ways that don’t seem to have anything to do with hunting.  Aspects of his personality that you’ve always loved—little things that defy precise definition—will fade away.  Bits of ugliness will creep in.  Give him his fifty days and enjoy him when he’s with you.  With power comes responsibility.  Don’t destroy what you love.

Though I know the stories of eleven women who enslaved their husbands to hold their attention, I won’t be recounting any.  They don’t have much in common, and no single story is likely to offer much that will be useful to the average reader.  When I wrote out the best two and reread them, they seemed long but trivial.  Neither will I be repeating any stories illustrating the seventh reason a woman might enslave her husband—that is, to control some aspect of his behavior not subsumed under any of the reasons I’ve already listed.  I’ve known two women who enslaved their husbands to make better fathers of them, and I can’t really argue with that, but all the other uses of female domination I’ve seen in this category have been downright petty.  Table Manners.  Household Chores.  Gawking at attractive strangers.  I know we’re both agnostics, but he should take the children to church. No, no, no.

Yes, you can get away with using the techniques of female domination to short-circuit the ordinary give-and-take of marriage, but only for a while.  Then the marriage go pookie.

But you promised I’d be able to make all the decisions!

Sure I did, but I also said you’d have to take your partner’s needs into account.  If you set yourself up as a petty tyrant, your relationship will deteriorate into a state of deep misery.  I promised that too.

I’m not saying you oughtn’t use the power of your femininity to force an equitable division of chores.  Feel free—if you’ve enslaved your husband for the pure joy of it and the division of chores gets to be a problem.  But divide only those chores that you need done or he needs done, not the ones your parents need done.  You’re grown up now, and you don’t have to keep house to their standards, or pass along their religious traditions either.  And if this sort of issue is your primary motivation for enslaving your husband, you’re headed for trouble.

On the other hand, if the only question is which one of you is going to be the petty tyrant until you break up, it might as well be you.

If you’re married to a problem child (a compulsive gambler, a petty tyrant, a philanderer), and the marriage seems doomed, you have some serious soul-searching to do before you try to save it by undertaking your husband’s enslavement.  As I’ve warned, you’ll fail if you’ve grown to hate him, and that’s probably just what has happened.  To succeed, you really need to be the sort of saint who’s capable of loving the sinner even while hating the sin.  When you fantasize your future together, with him as your slave, what are the details?  If you see a loving partnership in which the issues that now threaten your marriage have lost their relevance, you have a chance.  If you imagine punishing him daily for what he once was, you’ll fail.  Don’t bother trying.  Your marriage is truly doomed.  Start the process of dissolving it now.  Don’t give him a lurid story to tell the judge about what you tried to do to him at the end.

The other extreme is worse.  If you’re so desperately in love with your problem child that you can’t bear the thought of losing him no matter what, then you won’t be able to enslave him because he’ll bluff you into giving up.  It will be easy for him and painful for you, and it will be over in minutes.  Don’t make the attempt.  My advice about doomed marriages isn’t for you; it’s for those women whose marriages really must end if not salvaged by the techniques of female domination.  If you’re willing to pay any price to keep your marriage alive, it isn’t doomed.  Perhaps it would be doomed if you had a healthy measure of self-respect, but that’s not the same.  Don’t try my techniques—not yet, anyway.  Your husband will never let you forget the attempt, and his needling reminders will be pure torture.  You can reconsider when he’s done enough damage that you’re no longer afraid of losing him, but don’t be surprised if you go directly to hating him without passing through a period of relative objectivity.  Meanwhile see a marriage counselor or psychotherapist.  Your husband won’t go with you, so go alone.

You’ve probably noticed something missing from my advice.  I haven’t told you how to figure your chances of success; nor have I told you, if you know your chances, how to use that knowledge to choose a course of action.  All I’ve told you is that under certain circumstances your chances are nil, and I’ve advised you not to make an attempt that’s sure to fail.

The omission is intentional.  I’m not going to tell you how to choose a course of action based on your chances of success, and the reason is that no one actually does things that way.  Women don’t take calculated risks with their marriages, and I don’t recommend that you be an exception.  When considering the sexual enslavement of her husband, a woman asks herself, What’s the worst that could happen? If the answer frightens her, she doesn’t make the attempt even if the worst is unlikely.  My advice recognizes this and gives proper respect to the healer’s credo, First, do no harm.

Still, I know from proselytizing to my friends that women contemplating the enslavement of their husbands are generally quite interested in their chances; it’s a matter they’ve almost all wanted to discuss, so I feel obliged to present at least an overview of the relevant factors.

As we’ve already noted, you have a better chance of success if you’re enthusiastic about female domination than if you’re not.  It also helps to be empathetic, a skilled communicator, a clever strategist and a natural tease.

You’re more likely to succeed if your husband is in love with you than if he isn’t.  Much more likely.  Indeed there’s a lot to be said for enslaving any man who’s in love, while he’s in love, simply because he’s in love.  It’s easier then, and it keeps him from falling out of love.  It gives you a ready-made handle on any problems that may develop later, and it’s much friendlier than waiting for the problems first and then enslaving him out of necessity.

You have a better chance if your husband trusts you than if he has doubts.  If he actively distrusts you, you have almost no chance at all.

To sexually enslave any man, you have to lead him into the Loop, and you can do that only if you turn him on.  When a married woman contemplates the enslavement of her husband this is typically what worries her most.  If it’s obvious that your husband finds you irresistible, you have an excellent chance of success.  More likely though, especially if you’ve been married a while, your erotic effect on him isn’t all that apparent.  The reasons fall into three categories.

First and most dismal is a lack of sexual chemistry.  Perhaps you never turned him on but he married you anyway.  Perhaps you used to turn him on but he changed.  Perhaps you changed.  It doesn’t matter; there’s nothing for it.  A lack of sexual chemistry makes female domination unworkable.

Second, he may be bored.  Men are wired to be progressively less excited by a partner who’s always available even if the sexual chemistry is there.  This isn’t much of a problem.  When you set out to enslave him, you’ll be making yourself less available and introducing some novel and exciting situations.  His boredom will be relieved and he’ll want you with all the intensity of the good old days.

Third, he may be deliberately concealing the fact that you turn him on.  Every man has an idea, gleaned from society at large, of how much lust is appropriate in marriage, and he learns to control himself to avoid the opprobrium of exceeding what’s proper.  This isn’t as easy as he makes it look, nor is his control solid.  His techniques are crude enough to be transparent if you know what to look for.  He hides his nakedness when exposure would reveal his arousal; he looks away when the sight of you threatens to excite him; he desexualizes the atmosphere, either by dwelling on difficult or depressing subjects or by putting you on the defensive with petty criticism; he eats, drinks or exhausts himself to stupefaction.  Pick a good time, tie him up, and his control is gone.  Usually, enslaving him turns out to be easy.  He himself understands, and has implicitly acknowledged, that if you prove your ability to turn him on, your power over him is nearly absolute; otherwise he wouldn’t be putting so much effort into seeming unmoved by your femininity.  It may have been society that taught him how much lust is appropriate in marriage, but it’s you he’s trying to impress.

If your husband doesn’t seem to find you a turn-on, what’s the reason?  Lack of chemistry?  boredom?  a deliberate attempt to present a controlled demeanor?  If you wait until he’s exceptionally horny and then tie him up and tease him, how will he respond?  If you try to enslave him, how will he take it?  You know the answers to these questions.  Every woman does.  Maybe you’re not quite sure, but how sure do you have to be?

If I set before you a pathway, a quarter of an inch wide and twenty feet long—the edge of a piece of plywood—raised four inches above the surface of an empty parking lot, and ask you whether you can walk it without falling off, you’ll be able to give me an answer.  If your balance and coordination are about average, your answer will be no and you’ll be right.  If we widen the pathway to six inches and repeat the question, again you’ll be able to answer.  If your balance and coordination are average, you’ll say yes.  That answer will also be right.  Contemplating the sexual enslavement of your husband is like raising the pathway fifty feet.  The questions become more worrisome.  Your uncertainties are magnified.  You know it’s only monotony that makes him seem uninterested in you, but what if he really finds you repulsive?  You know he’s easygoing and doesn’t hold grudges, but what if you try to enslave him and he never forgives you the attempt?

If we’re talking about a pathway too narrow for you to walk even four inches off the ground—if you’re sure an attempt to enslave your husband will fail for reasons unrelated to your worry—then don’t try.  If we’re talking about a pathway you can walk easily—if you expect that an attempt to enslave your husband will succeed—then take a realistic look at how high off the ground the pathway is.  If it’s only four inches up—if the attempt can do no harm—then you don’t have to be absolutely sure of success.  Go ahead and give it your best shot.  Do it lovingly, and have fun!

The physical violence that men direct against women takes a number of forms, but for purposes of this discussion we can lump all but one of them together under the name brutality. Brutality includes beating, whether accompanied by rape or not; it includes rape effected by the threat of force; and it includes gang rape even if no other injury is inflicted.  Brutality is intended to establish male dominance over a woman by hurting, terrorizing, degrading or humiliating her.  For simplicity, we’ll also give a name to the perpetrators of brutality; we’ll call them brutes.

There’s one form of violence that needs to be differentiated from brutality, so I’ll give it another name.  The name is an oxymoron that may infuriate you:  gentle rape. Hate it?  Good!  Please bear with me anyway, because that name will help you understand the phenomenon and avoid becoming a victim.

There are three ways in which acts of brutality are triggered.  The first and most common is that a brute wants something, sees his partner as an obstacle keeping it from him, and vents his frustration by directing an outburst of violence at her.  What he wants could be anything—the use of her body, beer, the silence of a crying baby, even her agreement with the abstract idea that he’s the boss.  Often his belief that the desideratum is under her control is incorrect—the product of a sense of reality as poorly developed as his ability to deal with frustration.  He can best be understood as an ill-tempered two-year-old—a two-year-old with the body of a grown man and a bad case of testosterone poisoning.

Brutality can also be triggered by the feeling of vulnerability that results from a greater degree of intimacy than the brute can handle.  Perhaps he indulged in a momentary urge to open up to his partner as he might if he were emotionally healthy.  Perhaps she accidentally discovered something about him he would rather have kept hid.  However it came about, he perceives his exposure as a real-world danger and reacts with all the violence that might be appropriate to a physical threat.  It’s scary to live with such a man—like making one’s home on the side of a volcano—but no woman has to put herself in that situation.  Remember, most men aren’t like that.  The average man may become emotionally withdrawn when love is no longer new, but if he finds he’s made an exception and revealed more of himself than usual, or if he’s sexually enslaved and has to change his ways, he’ll handle it well.  It’s the man who can’t handle it—the brute—who’s dangerous.

Why distinguish brutality triggered by a sense of vulnerability from that triggered by frustration?  Just to be thorough, really.  The difference might be of professional interest to a psychologist, but it has no practical value to a victim, and few brutes care to understand their own motivations.  Besides, we’re not even discussing two different classes of brutes, just two different ways in which brutality is triggered.  The men who get violent when they feel vulnerable also get violent when they’re frustrated.

Brutes can be recognized and, unless you’re already committed to one, avoided.  In fact the easiest and most effective way to avoid falling victim to brutality is to avoid brutes.  Avoid them even if you have no interest in female domination.

What if you’re married to a brute or strongly attracted to one?  What are your chances of sexually enslaving and taming him?  Absolutely none.  You can’t use my techniques on a man who will respond with violence.  You’ll get killed.  If you’re involved with a man who has ever, even once, committed an act of brutality, don’t attempt any of the techniques described in this book.  If you’re involved with a man who commits acts of brutality with any regularity, get out of the relationship!  Leave now! Go to a shelter for battered women if you have to, but get out while you can still walk.  You’ve heard this before and it’s starting to seem like a recording, but that’s because it’s the best advice anyone can give you, and everyone who feels qualified to give advice on the subject knows it.

If you’re unattached and looking toward your next relationship, avoid brutes.  Don’t imagine that early application of my techniques will protect you from later brutality.  It won’t.  Avoid brutes.

Brutes are easy to avoid because they’re easy to spot.  The signs are many and varied.  Some are so reliable that every man who displays one is certain to be a brute, though not every brute will display one of these signs.  Others are less reliable.  If I give you even a partial list of the more obvious of these, and you apply them rigorously, there’ll be thousands of innocent men you’ll have to reject.  I’ll give it to you anyway; you’re better safe than sorry, and besides, I know that, like Denise, you’ll use your own judgment.

Suspect any man who makes disparaging remarks about women in general; who’s often angry; who expresses dissatisfaction through crude, cutting, or sarcastic personal insults; who drives aggressively; who hassles the help in restaurants; who spits in public places (other than wilderness); who pushes to the front of a line; who picks fights; who belongs to a football team, hockey team, street gang, motorcycle gang or fraternity; who is or ever was a police officer; or who punctuates his speech with more profanity than is customary for the circumstances.

If you’re laughing, I’m glad I’m entertaining you.  I see a bit of humor in that list myself, but don’t discount its value.  Stereotypes based on behavior, unlike other stereotypes, are useful.  If part of a man’s behavior conforms to a violent stereotype, it’s a good bet—a safe bet—that the rest of his behavior will also.

Three signs are so reliable that you should apply them rigorously.

Avoid a man who uses the word bitch as a substitute for woman in ordinary conversation.  If a man calls a particular woman a bitch because he feels she’s being bitchy, or if he says that a whole class of women are bitches because he’s angry with them, or something of like nature, that doesn’t signify.  It’s the unstressed use of the word, without emotion, that spells trouble.

How does the man who refers to women as bitches differ from the man who merely makes disparaging remarks about us?  I’ve told you that the one is a brute for sure, while advising you only to suspect the other.  Why?

The man who makes disparaging remarks may be joking.  He may be baiting the proprietors of political correctitude, thinking they deserve to be baited and that no one else will care.  He may be upset from reading a newspaper story about a man jailed for a rape he didn’t commit.  He could have any number of reasons for mouthing off, and what he says may have no predictive value with respect to his treatment of an intimate partner.  The man who uses bitch in place of woman, though, hates women for sure, and his hatred is integrated into his psyche at a deep level—as deep as his native language.

Some men refer to women as bitches only when talking with other men—some only when talking with men their own age.  This makes the sign harder to detect but no less reliable.  If you hear it in a man’s speech, whether intended for your ears or not, stay away.

Avoid a man who hates male homosexuals.  His homophobia arises out of insecurity about his masculinity, and that insecurity will drive him to brutalize you.  Because he’s insecure, he needs to be always proving he’s a man, and his idea of masculinity is badly twisted or he couldn’t be insecure about it.  (An emotionally healthy man can’t be insecure about his masculinity because he sees it as a simple fact of life, like the color of his eyes.  Even an emotionally healthy homosexual sees it that way.)  One of the ways an insecure man will try to prove his masculinity is by dominating a woman.  He has to dominate a woman.  The world is watching and the woman is watching too, and if he doesn’t dominate her—if he treats women decently—then the world will know he isn’t a real man and she’ll lose respect for him.  The best means of domination, of course, is brutality.  After all, he’s learned that violent aggression is itself an aspect of masculinity, so each act of brutality that he commits against his partner goes that much further toward proving his manliness.

Before you apply this warning as rigorously as I advise, it’s important that you understand what hatred of homosexuals is and what it isn’t.  Hatred is the intense visceral emotion that we all know by that name; nothing less qualifies.  A gentle, sensitive, sane and exclusively heterosexual man might be so disgusted by sexual contact between males that if he were to stumble upon two men making love in the woods, he would throw up.  Being emotionally healthy though, and not insecure about his masculinity, he doesn’t hate homosexuals—not even the ones he threw up over.  His feeling is analogous to that of a woman who’s disgusted by oysters and prefers not to watch people eat them, but still can’t be said to hate those who do.

In some parts of this country—Kentucky, for example—a large segment of the population, including some sixty percent of the men you might meet, subscribe to a conservative religious morality.  The prevailing opinion is that homosexuality is a sin, that homosexuals seek to seduce children and heterosexuals into their depraved ways, that toleration of homosexuality promotes evil and will bring down the wrath of God on the commonwealth as a whole, and that homosexual acts must therefore be outlawed and punished.  Are sixty percent of the men in Kentucky brutes?  Hardly.  Conservative religious morality isn’t hatred.  Some of the men who subscribe to that morality do hate homosexuals, and they most assuredly are brutes, but most don’t and most aren’t.

Let’s look at another analogy like that of the oysters.

Utah is probably the only state in the Union that, because of its conservative religious morality, will never legalize any form of gambling.  A majority of the people there feel that gambling is a sin, that the inexperienced are easily seduced by its availability, that toleration of gambling promotes evil and will bring down the wrath of God on the commonwealth as a whole, and that gambling must therefore be outlawed and punished.  Now, how many people in Utah actually hate gamblers?  Imagine that a casino executive from Reno decks himself out in casual clothes emblazoned with his employer’s logo, gets in his car with its Nevada plates, and sets out on a two-week auto tour of Utah.  Along the way, he tells everyone he meets what he does for a living.  How much hostility would he encounter?  Would he get beat up?  refused service and lodging?  Really.

Only hatred is hatred.  The man to avoid is the one who gets all agitated and shouts, “Fuckin’ queers! They should all be hung!”  He’s dangerous, and he’s more dangerous to the woman who puts herself in his company than he is to some homosexual down the street whom he’d have to go look for.  Of course, the man who goes out queer-bashing with a baseball bat, claiming he’s doing God’s work and hates no one, is also to be avoided.  Hatred is hatred no matter what it calls itself, and if you spend much time with such a man, he’ll soon be using that baseball bat on you.  Men are often what they seem.

After my soapbox speech about war, I feel the need to make one more fine point.   A professional politician who doesn’t hate homosexuals himself, but cynically panders to the homophobia of his constituency, is probably not a brute (regardless of what else I might think of him).  If you don’t mind his demagoguery, you might want to cultivate a relationship with him; like any man overburdened with power and responsibility, he’s likely to respond well to a woman who undertakes his sexual enslavement, welcoming the relief she offers from the pressures of his work.

The third easily-recognized brute is the man who rages at the sight of a couple consisting of a woman of his own race or ethnicity and a man of some other race or ethnicity.

Why, we might wonder, should this rattle him so?

The enemy!  They’re stealing our women!

Oh.

What makes this man dangerous is that he sees women as chattels—something like valuable purebred dogs that might be lured away from their rightful owners with offers of meat.  If you get involved with such a man and do something that annoys him (like neglecting to stock enough beer for a three-day binge), he’ll strike out at you much as he would at a misbehaving dog, and without any idea that he’s doing wrong.

Some men who exhibit this sign like to give the impression that they’re fair and consistent about it, so they make a principle of the belief that sex between people of different races or ethnicities is always wrong and profess an equal degree of hostility toward all mixed couples.  The underlying psychology is the same though, so you can be sure that if a man denounces even one person for miscegenation, he’s a brute.  On the other hand, a man’s acceptance of a mixed couple doesn’t demonstrate the absence of this sign unless the woman is of his own group, and even then it doesn’t prove he isn’t a brute.  There are plenty of brutes, including many who see women as chattels, to whom ethnicity just isn’t an issue.

There’s one more warning sign I urge you to watch out for, though it’s far from absolutely reliable.  Many readers will find it counterintuitive and I don’t understand it myself, but it’s based on stories collected from a goodly number of women, and the pattern revealed by those stories is unmistakable:  Beware a man who courts you with flowers.  I’ve heard the tales of a disproportionate number of battered women whose abusers courted them by giving or sending them flowers several times a week.  Generally the flowers stopped once the relationship had stabilized, only to reappear again and again as a means of wooing the woman back each time the man got worried that his battering had run her off for good.  Better relationships, more consistently free of violence, follow from the more modern approach to courtship in which a couple get to know one another by sharing activities they both enjoy, avoiding extravagant gestures.

No matter how well a man measures up against my little catalog of horrors, never ignore the warnings of your own intuition.  When getting acquainted, be alert to hints of violence, duplicity and ulterior purpose.  If something feels wrong, something is wrong.  Always.

I promised to describe three ways in which acts of brutality are triggered, and I’ve only covered two.  The third trigger is the perceived opportunity to engage in that most time-honored of male bonding rituals, massacre.  This is why any young college woman runs the risk of being raped by the football team.  All she has to do is be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Some women, in fact, are raped by college football teams, but nowhere near as many as we might expect.  There are two reasons for the low numbers.  One is that most women take care not to be alone with a football team.  The other is that usually, when a football team has the opportunity to rape someone, even if every member of the team has such a predisposition, nobody thinks of it.  Their attention is focused elsewhere and the impulse to massacre doesn’t spring to the forefront of anyone’s consciousness.  A woman who attempts to apply the techniques of female domination, though, is likely to be at substantially greater risk than a random bystander.  Let’s see how.

Our heroine is a freshman at a small college in Arkansas.  She becomes intimate with a classmate and attempts to sexually enslave him.  Puzzled by what’s happening, he asks his big brother for advice.  Pig Bruvver, an offensive throwback on the football team, alerts his buddies to the new Menace and they decide to neutralize her.  How?  Massacre, of course.  They’ll hunt her down, or set an ambush, and they’ll rape her and beat her half to death.  Once their attention is focused, massacre becomes their whole purpose.  Male bonding is what matters now, and male dominance.  At this point any excuse would have served, and though our heroine is at greater risk than anyone else on campus, every other woman’s risk increases as well.  To a massacre squad, mistaken identity isn’t a tragedy to be avoided, but a convenience that speeds their mission.

Understand your cultural context.  Not every college, to continue with the same example, is like the one where Suzi recruited her slaves.

Gentle rape is something else.  It’s not motivated by a craving for dominance but by sexual desire.  It’s committed by a man, almost always an acquaintance of the victim, who doesn’t understand that no means no.  His misapprehension is sincere.  He thinks no is an empty gesture required by social convention.  So he overcomes it.  And he does it gently.  He doesn’t want to hurt his victim, and he doesn’t hurt her, at least not very much.  He has to avoid hurting her to preserve his perception that he’s engaged in a consensual transaction rather than a rape.  He doesn’t hit her.  He doesn’t twist her arm.  He may hold her arm so she can’t use it to fight him off, but he doesn’t twist it.  He may push her knees apart, but he does it with little enough force so he can convince himself that he couldn’t possibly succeed against genuine resistance.  He doesn’t know how much stronger than she he is, nor does he appreciate how frightened she is.

Many women who have lived through this wonder whether they were really raped.  They ask themselves, over and over, what they did to invite such behavior, how their refusal could have been misunderstood.  They ask themselves these questions because there’s no reasonable explanation for what happened except a failure to communicate.  Indeed that’s the correct explanation, but the failure doesn’t lie with the victims.

Does it, then, lie with the perpetrators?  They’re sure they did nothing wrong, that what happened was consensual.  Accused of rape, they assume their accusers are distorting the facts, not that they see the same facts differently.  Upon learning that the facts aren’t in dispute, they’re genuinely puzzled.

Though it’s unfashionable to say so, the simple truth is that the perpetrators and the victims were taught different rules of communication—given different maps of reality.  Gentle rape happens by mistake.

Because of this, you can’t spot gentle rapists the way you can brutes.  You’re sure your new boyfriend is no brute, and you’re right, but how will he respond when you turn him on and then subject him to a high degree of sexual frustration?  Will he accept the frustration and pay attention to your demands?  Will he angrily but nonviolently reject you?  (He has a right to do that, you know.)  Or will he use just a little bit of force and overpower you?  The only way to get any indication ahead of time is by discussion.  Tell him the story of a friend who was the victim of a gentle rape.  Make it up if you have to.  His response is almost certain to give you some useful information about him.

Countermeasures

There’s one reliable way to protect yourself from violence—whether the perpetrators be brutes, gentle rapists or muggers—and that’s to master the art of self-defense.  It’s hard work and it takes time, but the ability to protect yourself is so valuable that I urge you to make the investment.  There are several martial arts that are effective, but my own favorite—the one I’ve chosen to study myself and the one I most highly recommend—is aikido.  Aikido teaches a set of skills that enable the practitioner to avoid harm without doing harm, and it teaches a moral philosophy to match.  Because of this, the study of aikido offers a pleasant fringe benefit—the opportunity to meet some truly excellent people.

In case you have no experience with martial arts but want to learn, I’ll offer four bits of practical advice on selecting a school.  The first three are applicable to martial arts generally and the last to aikido specifically.  Follow them and you won’t go wrong.

The first thing to do when you visit a school is ask the instructor whether the students compete in tournaments.  If the answer is yes, or if the answer is that competition is optional—indeed if the answer is anything other than no—find another school.

If a school competes, it inevitably becomes so focused on competition that it winds up teaching its students nothing but how to win tournaments.  This has disadvantages.  Tournaments have rules, which brawls don’t.  Boxers, wrestlers, and martial arts tournament competitors routinely put themselves in positions where, if it weren’t for the rules, they would get an ear bitten off.  Only a school that doesn’t compete can be relied upon to teach you to stay out of such positions.

Technique is another problem.  A school that competes may teach, for example, that a crescent kick to the side of an opponent’s head is a practical move.  Even if you can execute it, it isn’t something you would want to do in a brawl; it’s too long to be standing on one leg.  If you’re forty-five and out of shape, you simply won’t be able to learn to kick a standing opponent in the side of the head.  Don’t waste your time with an instructor who’ll insist on making you try.  You don’t have to be able to do that even to protect yourself from someone who can.

Avoid any school or class that’s for women only.  Such a school can’t teach you how to throw a big man, but it may give you the dangerous delusion that you’re capable of doing it anyway.  There’s no way to learn to throw a big man except repeated practice.  The schools that hire big men to play the role of bad guys, covered with lots of protective padding, are no good.  Real brutes are more cunning tacticians than these hirelings, and all men are more agile without padding.  It’s better to practice on fellow students who are big and male—more realistic.

Some of the techniques taught by these schools are effective but too dangerous for use by a dominatrix.  You can avoid brutes, so your primary use for martial arts is to convince a gentle rapist that no means no.  This can be done without hurting him, and that’s how it should be done.  Remember, you didn’t get involved with him because you thought he was the sort of person who should be maimed or killed.  You got involved with him because you like him and it was obvious that he likes you.  It turned out that the two of you learned different ways of communicating about sexual issues, so now you need a way of showing him what you mean by no.  Classes for women only, unfortunately, aren’t real big on this.  They tend to be taught by women who see all men as brutes and they concentrate on the most dangerous of techniques, with emphasis on the potentially lethal.  Such techniques are good to know, but you need gentler ones too.

When you begin martial arts training, you’ll feel sore.  The mornings after the first couple of classes, you may have difficulty moving.  For the first six weeks or so, you can expect to feel as though you’d been severely beaten with a heavy pillow.  This is normal.  Injuries aren’t.  Dislocations, pulled shoulder muscles, visible bruises and bloody knuckles are not a necessary part of martial arts training.  If your instructor tells you they are, or seems to regard them as commonplace, find another school.

If you decide to take up aikido, you’ll want to study good aikido—the sort that’s most useful.  Obviously you’re not going to ask the instructor whether he teaches good aikido; I’m going to give you a way to tell the difference.  Observe a class or a demonstration, and notice how the instructor throws his opponents.  Pay particular attention to the way he stands when preparing to be attacked.  His posture should be natural, as if he were walking—upright, relaxed, hands at sides, knees just slightly bent; there should be no more distance between his feet than you would expect if he were waiting for a bus.

The greater the deviation of the defender’s opening stance from this natural posture, the less useful the aikido will be.  If the defender looks like something out of a martial arts movie—feet wide apart, knees severely bent to bring the body low, hands forward as though prepared to deliver a karate chop—the aikido will be almost useless, regardless of how well it may seem to work when demonstrated.  It’s intuitively obvious.  To be useful, a defensive technique has to be available without adopting an unusual stance.  You have to be able to use it from whatever posture you’re in when you’re attacked.

There are two schools of aikido I can recommend by name, and wherever you live in the United States, a dojo of one or the other is probably in the nearest big city.  One is Aikido Kokikai and the other is Aikido Shusekai.  Both regard competition as contrary to the spirit of aikido, so neither competes; neither segregates its classes by gender; both teach techniques that are practical and useful; and you’re unlikely to get hurt while studying either.  According to an apocryphal tale, the founder of Aikido Shusekai once ejected a young man from his dojo when, after a couple of lessons, it became apparent that the student had a subconscious desire to hurt women.  Excellent people.

Wearing the black belt

Let’s fantasize a bit.   A few years ago you got fed up with brutes, so you studied karate and got a job in construction, and now you’re ready for Pig Bruvver and all his buddies.  If they picked you as the victim of one of their massacres, there would be very little left of them at the end.  What should you do?

Obviously you’re going to do whatever you want; it would take a SWAT team to stop you.  What I would recommend, though, is that you avoid brutes and treat everyone as gently as possible.  If you have a lover who needs to be shown that he can’t make you do what you don’t want to, show him without hurting him.  Use deadly force only if attacked by someone who means you harm.

But it would be so much fun to get hold of one of those brutes and turn him into my sex slave.  Every time he threw one of his ugly little tantrums, I’d…

You could do that, but you shouldn’t.  Sexual slavery is a good trip.  Every love slave I’ve ever had, every love slave I’ve ever heard of, took great pleasure in the role.  Even Tony, who was about as nearly a brute as possible without actually being one, liked what Denise did to him.  The reason you shouldn’t use superior strength or skill to sexually enslave a brute is that he doesn’t deserve it.  What he does deserve is to be shunned by women, cut off from all sexual pleasure, and denied any opportunity to reproduce his kind.  That won’t happen soon—certainly not while brutes are still permitted to raise their daughters to seek relationships with brutes—but we can each do our part and we can each ensure our own safety in the process.

Safety? What safety?  I can break him in two with one hand!

Sure you can.  But every now and then, you have to sleep.  If someone is going to be nearby when you do, make sure it’s someone you can trust.

So much for fantasy.  What’s the reality of life after martial arts training?  I started studying aikido when I was sixteen, I was reasonably proficient by the time I was nineteen, and I earned a black belt at twenty-two.  It’s given me a great deal of confidence, but I’ve never had to use my skills against a lover or a date.

Let’s go back over the situations in which my training might have played a role.  When Steve was eating me and lunged forward in an attempt to put his cock in my pussy, I got out of his way.  My training helped me move faster and more deliberately than I otherwise could have, and I knew how to help him toward a position of imbalance that increased his disorientation.  Did it make any real difference?  Of course not.  If my evasion had been clumsy, he still would have got my message and he still would have paid attention, especially when I scolded him.  For that matter, just shouting no would have been enough, though I would have lost the dramatic effect of implying that my evasion was necessary.  Steve wasn’t a rapist, not even a gentle rapist, no matter what I said to him at the time, and I didn’t need my skills to get him under control.

I thought Corbett might attack me when I blackmailed him.  I deserved it and he didn’t know I could defend myself, but he didn’t attack me anyway.  In that case, what my training gave me was the confidence to do wrong.  More loss than gain, considering how I feel about it now, but that’s not the fault of my training and certainly not what my sensei intended.

And that’s it!  In all my other relationships, my skills played no role at all.  I’ve never even had to resist a gentle rape, perhaps because my penchant for bondage tends to preclude the development of that sort of situation.  Not a very impressive collection of stories, is it?  In effect, I’ve protected myself all these years by avoiding brutes and projecting confidence.  Under most circumstances, that’s enough; but I’m still glad to have my training and I’ve never stopped practicing.

Suggestion

Some experts say that hypnosis consists in one person acting out the role of hypnotist while another acts out the role of subject, making it, in effect, a play that two people perform together.  This doesn’t mean it’s a hoax or that it doesn’t really work; it does work.  What the experts are saying is that it works because both players know the rules governing their roles.  A hypnotist gives her subject suggestions—that he’ll stretch out his arm, brick in hand, and hold that position without tiring; that he’ll remember the plate number of the getaway car; that he’ll lose his craving for tobacco—and the subject does as directed.

Of course hypnotism doesn’t always work.  The hypnotist has to be competent and confident, the subject has to be at least ordinarily suggestible, and the suggestions have to be reasonable:  they can’t go beyond the realm of possibility, nor can they violate the core personality of the subject.  A man can’t be made to lift a fire truck, permanently lose interest in food and drink, or remember the number on a license plate he didn’t see (though he can be made to believe, incorrectly, first that he saw it, and then that he remembers that it bore a number suggested to him).

One of the ways a dominatrix controls her love slave is through the same kind of suggestion.  She tells him what he’s going to do, how he’s going to respond to her, what emotions he’s going to feel, and he does.  This happens even though it requires his cooperation, and even though he might have started out unwilling.  Her confidence and the power of her femininity make him accept the role she defines for him.

A man can be told what will happen in a few minutes, or what will happen in a few days, or what will happen whenever certain circumstances arise, or how things will be in the indefinite future.  Suggestions are given in the course of ordinary conversation, with no particular preparation or emphasis.  They’re best stated as simple declarative sentences, usually in the future tense, sometimes in the present tense:  “One evening next week, you’ll realize you got through a whole day without even thinking about having a cigarette,” or, “You must be getting thirsty.”

Suggestions aren’t commands and oughtn’t be phrased as if they were.  Commands inspire resistance.  If you have good control over a man, he’ll obey your commands even when he dislikes them, but he’ll have a negative feeling about it.  A suggestion, when it works, makes a man feel either that he’s acting of his own free will or that he’s lost control of himself; it never makes him feel that he’s following an order.

You can make a suggestion more powerful by phrasing it as a presupposition.  To a man in a hypnotic trance, “You may notice that you’re getting thirsty,” is a much more effective suggestion that, “You must be getting thirsty.”  The question is no longer, Am I thirsty? but, Do I notice? The thirst is presupposed.  To a man in a state of ordinary awareness, though, the phrasing of the suggestion as a presupposition sounds weird.  His reaction isn’t, I’m thirsty, but What’s going on here? The simpler version is better because it sounds natural—a thoughtful and caring remark with no ulterior purpose.  Presuppositions don’t always sound weird, though, and when they fit the flow of conversation, they can be used to good advantage.

Let’s go back to the afternoon of Patrick’s enslavement and look at the suggestions I gave him.

When I had finished describing what was involved in being my love slave and he said, “I can’t agree to that,” I gave him a highly suggestive answer:  “Oh, you’ll agree to it.  Tied up like this, you don’t have any choice.”

It worked; he agreed.

When he asked what I was going to do to him, part of my answer was, “I’m going to play with you, and you’ aren’t going to be able to help but come.”

That suggestion worked too; he came.

The dominatrix in the fetish magazines, by contrast, shrieks at her victim, “You can’t come without my permission!  If you do, it’s twenty lashes with the rosebush!”  That suggestion also works, producing the opposite effect from mine—the man finds himself able to hold off his orgasm until she gives the word, no matter how intense the stimulation.

Most men, in the absence of suggestion, can delay orgasm but not prevent it.  A few can prevent it, while many can’t even delay it.  A suggestion that orgasm is inevitable shifts the balance so that almost no man will be able to resist completely, and most will come after relatively little stimulation, having lost the ability to slow their responses.  After a suggestion that resistance is both possible and necessary, on the other hand, many men will be able to resist completely, and almost all will be able to manage a delay.

If you want to destroy a man’s ability to resist sexual stimulation, it’s important to use the right kind of suggestion.  The difference can be subtle, because it depends on just what is said and in what tone, rather than on the consequences threatened.  A gently teasing, “I’m going to play with you, and you aren’t going to be able to help but come, even though I’m going to give you twenty lashes with the rosebush afterward,” will make resistance difficult, while an angry, “We both know you can control yourself, and you’d better, because if you come I’m going to keep playing with your cock until you promise to be my love slave,” will make control easy.

Of course neither of these little speeches is credible.  Let’s bring our examples back to reality, still using the situation in which you want to play with the Loop by teasing your lover about how he can’t help coming even though he knows you’re going to toy with the post-orgasmic sensitivity of his cock.  It wouldn’t be a good idea to say, “You’re going to have to use every trick you know to make sure you don’t come, because if you do come, your cock will get all sensitive and I’m going to keep playing with it anyway.”  That suggestion would inspire him to remember one of those tricks you so thoughtfully mentioned, and he would use it to keep himself from coming.  Worse yet, the trick is one that normally doesn’t work; its power comes entirely from your suggestion.  A much better thing to say is, “I’m going to make you come, and when you’re done and your cock gets all sensitive, I’m going to keep playing with it longer than you can stand.”  That implants in his psyche the belief that the success of your agenda is a foregone conclusion and makes him cooperate.

I gave Patrick a few more suggestions that afternoon.  Two were contained in the single sentence, “We’ll be doing a lot of this kind of playing, now that we both know how it turns you on.”  The first suggestion was, You will cooperate in this kind of play, and the second was, This kind of play turns you on. Just the mind-set that makes a good love slave!  And note the presupposition!  If the suggestion left any question at all in Patrick’s mind, it wasn’t whether my kind of play turns him on.

Then I gave him an example.  “Next time we get together, I’ll probably tie your hands behind you and drop your pants first thing, then press against you and kiss you like we were doing before, until your cock is sticking straight out in front of you.”

That prepared him to cooperate with the particular bit of play I described, and it ensured that he would respond erotically.  Again, his response is presupposed.  There was still a chance he would put up some token resistance to letting me tie his hands, but once I’d got that out of the way, my pressing against him and kissing him was certain to make his cock hard.

“You’re going to have to get used to sharing your thoughts and feelings with me.  It’s part of being my love slave.”

He did get used to it, and much sooner, I’m sure, than he would have without that suggestion.

And there was one more:  the repeated exclamation, “My sex toy!”

Suggestion played an even greater role in Tony’s enslavement by Denise.  Her first suggestion to him was that brilliantly worded announcement, “You know, some day you’re gonna be my out-and-out sex slave.  You’re gonna do every little thing I tell you, you’re gonna do it my way, and you’re gonna be happy about it.”  It set him up not only to accept sexual slavery, but to like it.  To be sure, most men who are sexually enslaved do like it, but Tony wasn’t one for liking anything or anyone, so telling him, “you’re gonna be happy about it,” was important.

When she’d finished making him come by hand the first time, and discovered that he couldn’t stand to have the stimulation continued, she said, “You’re gonna be wanting me to do that for you again some day.”  Though he argued with her agenda after she untied him, that suggestion helped bring him back for another go.

When she got her next shot at him, she displayed her pussy and said, “It’s gonna make you my slave.  You’re gonna do everything I say, just because I’ve got this pussy between my legs and you know what a thrill it can give you.”

When she then made it clear that she intended to follow through on her promise to keep playing with his cock longer than he liked, and he said he couldn’t believe it, she said, “I think it turns you on, too, knowing I’m not gonna stop and you have to come anyway.”

Before she said that, it hadn’t occurred to Tony to be turned on by that prospect.  Though almost all men have the potential to be led into the Loop, most are unaware of the possibility until the first time it happens.  Tony wasn’t yet turned on by the idea of being obviously unable to resist Denise; he was cooperating only because he found her extremely attractive and hoped to restore their relationship to normalcy.  Her little speech suggested the Loop—told him what to feel.  At the time, of course, Denise couldn’t be sure that Tony hadn’t fallen into the Loop himself—that was revealed months later, after she taught him how to engage in relaxed and intimate conversation—but if he had fallen in, what she said was still perfect for the situation since it would have fed the Loop by telling him she knew what he was feeling.  On top of all that, she suggested the inevitability of his orgasm by presupposition, making it virtually impossible that he’d be able to resist.

Immediately after that, she told him (referring to her intention to torture him), “Next time you’re gonna know, and you’re gonna let me tie you up anyway, and then we’re both gonna know it’s because you want it.”  That suggested, first, that he was to cooperate with her agenda of tying him up yet again, and second, that he was to cultivate a positive attitude toward both being tied up and having the sensitivity of his cock toyed with.  He was to develop an appreciation of the degree to which the scenario turned him on, and even a conscious desire to have it repeated.

When they got together again, it was obvious that Tony was no longer a stranger to the Loop.  Denise tied him down and told him how turned on he was by his anticipation of what she was going to do to him, and the response of his cock proved her right.

“See?  You do like it!  I’m gonna have to do this sometimes after you’re my sex slave, it turns you on so much.  Won’t that be something?—being my sex slave, and me knowing you get a hard-on for having your dick rubbed and rubbed after you’re done coming.”

“You do like it!” is just a tease to a man who has enthusiastically accepted sexual slavery.  To someone in Tony’s position, especially someone with Tony’s hostility, it’s a suggestion.  His inclination might be to feel resentful of the way control of his body is being taken from him, and he might not infer from the reaction of his cock that he likes what’s happening.  It helps to tell him.

Her last sentence implanted in his mind a fantasy that he was directed to nurture—just the sort of fantasy that makes the day-to-day experience of sexual slavery so continuously exciting.

She went on to tell him that when they repeated the same scenario yet again, he would be required to answer her question about how it made him feel.

“I mean, if you like it, tell me.  If you’re embarrassed but it turns you on anyway, tell me that.”

Her coaching suggested the right answer and directed him to cultivate a conscious awareness of what was happening to him.  I’m embarrassed by the way I can’t help but turn on and by how obviously I keep seeking to repeat this scenario, and I’m turned on by the way she embarrasses me when I’m with her. Her coaching also demonstrated to Tony that the Loop can be spoken, and directed him to rehearse his own description so he could recite it to her on demand.

If I’ve repeated too many pieces of the story of Denise and Tony, it’s because so very much of what she said to him was suggestion.  It had to be; Tony started with almost none of the attributes that make a good love slave.  Denise turned him into one by implanting a series of electrodes in his brain, one at a time, and connecting them all together—only she used suggestion instead of a drill.

At the other extreme, Linda enslaved Stephan with just one suggestion, but it was such a knockout that nothing else was necessary except the formality of inviting him to be hers.

“You know, you’ll never be able to fuck me like you used to after this, because now that we both know how excited you get at the thought of letting me see you lose control, you’ll get so embarrassed every time you try, it’ll make you come right away like you just did.”

Suddenly she was the most exciting woman he had ever known.  Of course, it helped that he was already in love with her, that he opened the opportunity by losing control, and that she had the presence of mind to recognize her chance and think so quickly of the right thing to say.  Even with all that going for her, there was no guarantee that her words would have the desired effect; suggestions do sometimes fail.  But she had nothing to lose and a great deal to gain, and it turned out that she succeeded perfectly.

She repeated her suggestion in a shorter version the one time they fucked in the missionary position afterward (“See?  You’ve really lost it for good”), and again just after they consummated their marriage (“I guess my pussy’s just too much for you”), and often enough thereafter to ensure that it remained true.

Staging struggles for control

Time and again, we’ve seen how a man can be made to struggle, and inevitably fail, to maintain control of his sexual responses.  In all but one of the scenarios we’ve looked at so far, the man was one who experienced distress if stimulation of his penis was continued after orgasm, and he was told that that was just what was going to happen if he came.  In the last, it was made clear that the consequence of premature ejaculation would be denial of the privilege of fucking the woman who caused it.

Orgasm isn’t the only response that can be toyed with in this manner.  A man can be told that he mustn’t allow his cock to get hard, that he mustn’t allow it to leak its lubricating fluid, that he mustn’t allow it to twitch.  The consequences of losing control are limited only by the imagination.

The technique itself is simple and straightforward.  The man is told what it is that he mustn’t allow to happen and he’s told the consequences of losing control.  Then he’s subjected to stimulation sufficient to cause the forbidden response, teased about his loss of control, and punished as promised.

We’ve already examined the most obvious reason for using this technique—the Loop.  If the man is to be punished for responding, he’ll try not to.  When he responds anyway, his inability to control himself embarrasses him.  His embarrassment and his partner’s obvious enjoyment of it combine to turn him on all the more.

We’ve seen how this can enhance the intimacy of a relationship, how it can intensify a man’s love for the woman who puts him through it, how it can lead to the sort of alteration of consciousness that men have sought from time immemorial.  But even when all this has been explained, many a woman is skeptical.  I recommend that she occasionally put her lover in restraints and tell him that if he lets himself come she’s going to play with the sensitivity of his cock, then bring him off and torture him; and she asks, “How could a man like that?  Why would he let me do it more than once?”

The answer to the first question is easy.  He doesn’t like it.  He finds the idea a tremendous turn-on until he comes, even until he’s drained, but only until then.  The continued stimulation afterward is uncomfortable.  The duration of his discomfort, though, is brief compared to the time the idea acts as a turn-on; and it’s the idea, not the actual torture, that fuels his fantasies between sessions.

The answer to the second question is of greater complexity, encompassing everything we’ve already discussed and more.  To gain an understanding of the more—the part of the explanation we haven’t yet considered—we’ll begin by contemplating the doings at our local video arcade.

This strange place is inhabited by human beings, most young, almost all male, many in a frightful state of degeneracy, playing video games.  They’ve come here for that purpose and they’re paying for the privilege with their time and money.  The average player concentrates on one game, three at most, improving his skill by long and repeated practice.

The typical game has two main components—a set of goals to be reached (usually a primary goal and several secondary goals) and a set of hazards that get in the way.  Some games have a hero who pursues the goal under the player’s control and with whom the player can identify; others allow the player to confront the fantasy world on the screen without an intermediary.  The hazards can be villains or they can be pitfalls or they can be a mix of both.  These details of implementation don’t matter except in that they attract slightly different types of players.

The player scores points by reaching the primary goal, reaching a secondary goal, or making progress.  Being overcome by a hazard brings the end of the game closer or, if it’s already very close, ends the game completely.  Reaching a goal, even the primary goal, doesn’t.  The player is rewarded with the opportunity to try again in a more hostile environment where the goal is more difficult to reach, the hazards harder to avoid, and the point values of the successes greater.

All the really good video games—the ones the players enjoy most, the ones they play over and over and nourish with coin after coin—have one important feature in common:  they don’t always play the same.  The variation is generally in the behavior of the hazards.  They appear at different times and in different places and they do different things, though the times and places of their appearance, as well as what they do, are always consistent with their nature.

This means that the player can’t perfect his strategy by rote, but has to conceptualize the hazards and develop an understanding of the essence of each—a much more interesting type of learning.  It also means that a game occasionally ends much sooner than the player thinks appropriate for his level of skill, owing to an unfortunate encounter with a hazard whose behavior was unexpected.  A player to whom this happens will almost always play again right away, hoping to leave a more fitting score on the machine.

Video games, especially those that offer variation in play, are addictive.  They hook the player’s need for a feeling of accomplishment and mastery.  It’s that feeling that the owner of the arcade is selling, albeit within the most limited of contexts.  And it doesn’t matter that the context is so trivial as to appear ludicrous to a person with any sense of reality.  An addicted player still pours in dollar after dollar, hour after hour, day after day, for months on end.

So why, I again ask rhetorically, returning to the real subject of my discourse, would a man make a habit of putting himself in sexual situations where he might be subject to treatment that’s distressing, embarrassing, or both?  Why, to continue using my favorite example, would he repeatedly allow himself to be tied up by a woman who has shown an interest in playing with the post-orgasmic sensitivity of his cock?  Because he’s in love; because it’s the price of continuing in a relationship that offers other sexual activities that are more to his liking, as well as a variety of nonsexual benefits; because, distressing and embarrassing though it may be, it’s a tremendous turn-on.  These reasons mustn’t be forgotten.  But another factor is his craving for the feeling of accomplishment that comes of getting better at the game—the game in which his goal is to experience as much sexual pleasure as he can, preferably in the course of the sexual activities he likes best, while avoiding, insofar as possible, such hazards as physical distress and embarrassment.

Is he really playing a game?  Certainly not in the sense of the degenerates who inhabit the video arcade.  Sexual slavery wasn’t his idea, and he wouldn’t object if the woman he loves were to announce an intention to turn their relationship into a conventional one.  Still, the relationship, strange as it is, offers its benefits, and he’s in love, and sexual slavery is an incredible turn-on, so he makes the best of his circumstances.  Those circumstances include the elements that make a good video game so addictive:  a goal he craves and hazards that are unpredictable within understood limits.  Making the best of his circumstances means pursuing the goal while trying to avoid the hazards, so he finds himself in the position of having to play a game with addictive qualities, and inevitably it captivates him.

Obviously this would be the case even if video games had never been invented.  My only reason for discussing them at such length is that they embody the addictive qualities that interest us, and in a context so far removed from reality as to isolate those qualities for easy contemplation.  For convenience then, and certainly with no intent to trivialize human affection, I’ll continue using the metaphor of the game as we discuss the love slave’s quest to maximize his sexual pleasure while minimizing the punishment and embarrassment his partner so often combines with it.

At the outermost level of the game, the love slave seeks to induce his partner to choose his own favorite sexual activities while trying to avoid either long periods of abstinence or activities that are likely to cause him discomfort or embarrassment.  He seeks to motivate her to fuck him without tying him down, and he tries to avoid bondage and torture.  However wide their repertoire of sexual activities, he has his order of preference among them, and he always aims as high as he can.

If, on a particular occasion, his partner’s choice matches his preference—if she leaves him untied and fucks him, for example—he counts himself successful.  If she chooses a direction less promising, the game continues at a lower level and he aims for the best outcome possible in light of her choice.

If she ties him to the bed, there are still several possibilities.  Maybe she doesn’t intend to torture him; maybe she just wants to fuck him while he’s tied down.  Of course she might keep up the stimulation after he comes, using her pussy, but at least that would spare him the indignity of having an obscene display made of his ejaculation.  Besides, if she plans to torture him with her pussy, he might be able to change her mind by talking to her lovingly while she fucks him, so as to catch her up in a different mood.  No?  Maybe she’ll be so overwhelmed by her own orgasm that she’ll stop thrusting her hips.  Maybe he’ll be able to end the torture by wriggling out of her.

Even if she ties him down and states a clear intent to make him come by hand and then continue the stimulation, maybe she’ll be overcome with lust and wind up fucking him.  Maybe he’ll somehow be able to keep himself from responding and she’ll give up and try something more to his liking.  Maybe he’ll manage to talk her into a gentler approach, or maybe she’ll change her mind herself.  Maybe her technique will be a little off when she tries to torture him—maybe she’ll just milk the shaft of his cock and miss the frenum and corona—and he won’t be so distressed as usual.  Maybe, whether she uses her hands or her pussy, he’ll be able to ignore the sensations if he counts to himself by thirteens.

If you’ve paid careful attention to everything you’ve read here, you’re probably being nagged by a discrepancy.  When I first described the Loop, I said it’s addictive—a man comes to fantasize, even crave, situations in which is loss of control turns out to be particularly embarrassing.  Now I’m in the midst of describing a great metaphoric game in which the same man has the goal of achieving as much sexual satisfaction in as ordinary a manner as possible, while keeping his embarrassment to a minimum.  I owe you an explanation.

Both things are true.  The man is addicted.  He does indeed fantasize and crave situations in which his loss of control leads to extreme embarrassment.  On any given occasion, though, he dreads the realization of those fantasies.  He wants to be embarrassed like he wants to go to heaven—not right now.

Think of a little boy visiting a zoo and coming upon the cage of a particularly exuberant lion.  He approaches the lion and runs away, but he doesn’t go far and he doesn’t keep his distance.  He approaches the lion again, then runs again, then approaches, then runs.  Often he shrieks and laughs; his approaches and flights are fun.  He’s playing and he knows it.  And he winds up spending a good deal of time near that lion.

The man inevitably becomes obsessed with his partner and her diverse erotic possibilities.  His mind, when not focused on the hardships of daily life, is constantly occupied with fantasies of what they might do together, and those fantasies keep him horny.  That’s why a man of seventy who has been sexually enslaved exhibits the sexual enthusiasm he had at thirty.

When a woman varies the technique and emphasis of her lovemaking, her man comes to appreciate how each sexual encounter takes its own peculiar twists and turns, offering its own promises, raising its own fears, imprinting his consciousness with its unique blend of excitement, affection, embarrassment, pleasure, distress and intimacy.  With her in control, and with the understanding ever in his mind that his sexuality is her toy, no sexual act is ever simple or routine.  Each becomes, at least in part, a heroic struggle in which he hopes to reach his goal without being overcome by hazards, and the context is far from trivial.  He tries to develop his skill.

The major part of developing skill consists in learning what motivates his partner’s sexual choices.  What makes her choose to fuck?  What makes her choose to tie him up?  What makes her choose to torture him?  What makes her choose to leave him sexually frustrated until another day?

A man will be able to answer these questions more easily, to the detriment of the quality of the game, if his partner is using sex to get control over some difficult aspect of his behavior—his neglect of parenting, perhaps—because she has to tell him quite clearly that unsatisfactory behavior will be punished by forced abstinence, while his favorite activities will be chosen with any frequency only when his behavior has been exemplary for a long while.  But even if she finds it necessary to take this approach, the sexual aspect of their relationship needn’t be governed by a rigid schedule of rewards and punishments.  She can still leave herself a great deal of flexibility in deciding the when and the how of sex, and she can inject as much playful variation into their sexual interaction as she would if he had no bad habits.  This keeps him hopeful of figuring out what motivates her deviations from quid pro quo, with the result that he takes an active interest in the game rather than just accepting it as a temporary hardship imposed because of his faults.

A woman who isn’t using sex to correct her man’s behavior can base all her sexual choices on her mood of the moment, tempered by consideration of her partner’s needs.  This leaves him less sure of what to expect than the man who’s undergoing a program of reform, and his attempts to figure her out and influence her choices will be more interesting.

Any man’s success at figuring out and influencing his partner will depend on her predictability and his ingenuity.  To keep him from getting bored with the game, indeed to keep him from slowly taking control of the relationship, it’s necessary to do the unexpected often and remain ever vigilant against attempts at manipulation.

What about the other extreme?  Is it possible to behave so randomly that a man loses interest?  No, and for three reasons.  First, as we’ve already noted, the addictive nature of our metaphoric game is only a small part of what makes the relationship appealing.  Second, there’s more to his play of the game than trying to predict and control your choices:  he hopes to control his own responses.  The technique we’re discussing, after all, is that of making him struggle to control himself, and his play of the game overflows into an attempt to influence your choices largely because he realizes that he’ll lose fewer struggles for control of his responses if he manipulates you into staging fewer.

When you do stage such a struggle, he recognizes that he’s no longer at the outermost level of the game.  He has to keep his body from responding to your femininity or be punished.  He’ll probably try to make you lose interest, but he still has to control himself long enough to accomplish that, so he has no easy way out.  When you tell him that if he comes in less than twenty minutes, you’ll keep playing with his cock in its state of sensitivity, he’ll try not to come; and when he does come, he’ll try to find a way to keep the continued stimulation from getting to him.  Sometimes he’ll seem to have pretty good control, if only for a while.  Rarely he’ll even succeed, whether at holding off his orgasm or at suppressing his discomfort, and these occasional successes encourage him.

That brings us to the third point—he doesn’t have to get better at the game to feel encouraged.  Maybe on one occasion he manages not to come because he started out less horny than you thought.  That’s an accomplishment, but it’s a transitory accomplishment because it will alert you to the possibility and you’ll take care to prevent a recurrence.  Maybe on another occasion he experiences only minimal distress when you keep rubbing his cock after he’s drained.  He had a headache two hours earlier and dosed himself with an analgesic that’s still in his system.  He’s not aware that that’s the reason and he won’t figure it out.  Such happenings encourage him, but they don’t represent a lasting improvement in his ability to control himself.

His attempts to manipulate you are even more subject to random success.  It’s inevitable that you’ll frequently choose to do what he’s hoping for.  Often you simply want to fuck.  Maybe once or twice when you’ve decided to bring him off by hand and torture him, you’re so overcome with lust that you change your mind and fuck him while he’s still tied.  These little victories convince him that he’s gaining a measure of skill at manipulating you, and they whet his interest and encourage him.

What he does is manufacture an illusion of skill.  He manufactures it from random successes, just as a gambler addicted to roulette manufactures an illusion of skill from the occasional winning streaks inherent in all games of chance.  His successes keep him interested in the game, but a man who’s turned on to you and horny has no more chance of resisting the power of your femininity than the gambler has of beating roulette over the long term.  His sexuality is truly yours to play with as you like, and he has no choice but to love you for what you do to him.

Let’s broaden our perspective on this technique by looking at another scenario from my relationship with Patrick.

Of all that was encompassed in his new role as my love slave, what Patrick obviously dreaded most was the possibility that he might be required to masturbate while I watched.  I was determined to put him through it, and repeatedly, but I was in no hurry.  Months went by before the perfect opportunity presented itself.

It began with a sore throat—a sore throat so bad that I was driven to seek the services of a nurse practitioner.  She prescribed a course of antibiotics that allowed it to heal but, as often happens when I take antibiotics, I developed a severe case of vaginitis.  When I finally let Patrick visit me, my throat was recovered but my pussy was in a sad state.  I hadn’t let him near me in almost two weeks because I didn’t want to infect him, so he was very horny.

When he arrived, we shared a hug and spent some time talking, gradually drifting from the doorway to our usual seats at the dining room table.  In answer to his inquiry about my health, I gave him a sufficiently detailed account to let him know that any sexual contact between us would have to be limited.

When we’d brought one another up to date on the details of our lives, I stood up and headed for the living room.

“Come on in here and get naked!  I want to see my toy.”

I took a seat at one end of the couch.  He got out of his clothes, then sat next to me and held my hand.  I told him to lie down with his head on my lap, and he did.

“Remember when I told you I might want you to play with yourself while I watch, and you’d have to do it?”

“Yeah?”

He’d learned that silence wouldn’t do.

“Well, this seems like the perfect time.”

“I’m really not comfortable with that.”

“I know.  It would embarrass you more than anything else we’ve done together, but you’re going to have to do it.”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.  Wouldn’t you rather you play with me?  We’d be a lot closer that way.”

“It’s a nice thought, sure!  But I just want to watch.”

“Why?”

“Because it’ll embarrass you so much.  Because I know that if it embarrasses you like that, you’ve never done it for another woman, and it’ll be something special between you and me.  Because I want to be able to remind you that you did it, and how you have to do it again anytime I want, and see you get all embarrassed and turned on.”

The Loop.  The idea made his cock grow with a little twitch.

“Can we put it off for another time while I psych myself up?”

“We’ll do it another time too, but I’ll tell you what.”

“What?”

“I’ll give you a chance to escape, just for today.  We’ll play a little game to see who has to play with your cock.  How does that sound?”

“What kind of game?”

“We’ll stay here like this for a while, and if I can make your cock drip without touching it, you have to start playing with it right away and keep going until you come and you won’t argue any more.  If you can keep it from dripping for twenty minutes, I’ll play with it today, but you’ll still have to do it another time.  Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.  It’s 7:18.

“Hey, this isn’t working out badly at all!  No matter who wins, I’m sure of getting to see that sexy fireworks display of yours, and you get to feel that yummy thrill that goes with it.”

As I spoke I fixed my gaze on his cock.  I loved it.  I loved Patrick.  I let all that love flow through me, and at the same time, I wondered what response I would see.  A smile came to my face—the same smile that had had such a powerful effect on Drew in similar circumstances.

Patrick’s cock grew rapidly and aimed itself upward.

“Exciting thought, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“You know, I really like the way your cock reacts to the idea that I’m going to watch it spurt.  I mean, it’s neat that it turns you on, and it’s really neat that you can’t hide that it turns you on.”

I continued feeding the Loop with that kind of talk, and with almost constant staring at his cock, for eleven minutes.  That’s how long it took for the first drop of fluid to make its way to where I could see it.  When it appeared, I bent my head toward it and stared hard, not saying anything at first.  Then I turned so we were face to face.

“What’s that?”  I glanced back toward it to show him what I meant.

“Nothing!”  He said it emphatically but playfully and I loved him for it.

“Mm-hm!  You’re dripping.  You know what that means!”

“I guess so.”

He did as he’d promised while I continued to tease him, and his orgasm was everything I’d been looking forward to—a spectacular show that left him totally embarrassed.

I rarely make a man masturbate without first staging such a struggle.  Even as a dominatrix, I see no need to be unpleasantly domineering.  My partner will agree to play that game, or one like it, even after a history of repeated losses; and having agreed, he’ll pay the bet without complaint.  He learned about bets long before he met me, and he’s so deeply committed to their rules that everything stays light and easy between us.

It may seem that if a man has promised to be my slave, he should do what I tell him without my having to win a game, but that’s not a practical attitude for me to take.  Even from my perspective as a confirmed dominatrix, playing the game is a lot more fun than simply ordering him to masturbate, and it’s more fun no matter who wins.

But it’s not just my own perspective that I have to consider.  If I want the relationship to last, I have to be mindful of my partner’s needs, and I have to keep him interested in me.  If I repeatedly order him to masturbate while I watch, it will get old fast.  He may even start to feel mistreated.  Eventually I’ll make the mistake of ordering him to masturbate when he’s less than unbearably horny, and he’ll refuse and set out to find a more exciting and considerate partner.

The game avoids such an unhappy ending in two ways.  First, it holds my partner’s interest, partly by being inherently addictive as games are, partly by offering the possibility of a reward more to his liking than the privilege of having me watch him masturbate.  Second, the criterion by which we decide that he’s lost the game is such that when he has to bring himself off, he’s horny enough that he really needs to.  Once he’s dripping, he’s way past the stage where he can walk out in a huff.

Though it would be a poor idea to make a habit of simply ordering a man to masturbate, the possibility is important because it ensures that he’ll play the game.  It was clear to Patrick that as my love slave he had no choice but to masturbate if I insisted, so when I offered him the game, he had nothing to lose.  That he had almost no chance of winning didn’t matter; he knew he had more chance than if he didn’t play.

I played that game with Patrick a number of times afterward, interspersed, of course, with other forms of lovemaking.  Eventually he won one, and I brought him off by hand.  He lost a couple more and then won another.  I brought him off by hand again, but this time, I released his cock just as he crossed the threshold of ejaculatory inevitability.  It was a new experience for him and I know he would have been terribly embarrassed even if I’d done nothing more than watch, but I teased him mercilessly all through the show.  After that, he never won again.  Maybe he wasn’t sure he still wanted to, considering what it might get him.  More likely, though, his contemplation of the two alternatives that lay before him, both so embarrassing, always proved such a turn-on that control became impossible.

The ultimate tease

Another interesting feature of those video games we looked at:  When the player is defeated by a hazard, the machine generates sound effects and visuals that rub it in.  The people who build the games discovered that a machine that produces such effects garners more coins than one that doesn’t.

I use the same principle in my lovemaking.  When a man has an orgasm under circumstances that make for even a little bit of embarrassment, I add to his chagrin by teasing him about it, and I do it right then, while he’s coming.  I always tease him if I’ve given him a reason to resist, I usually tease him if I get to watch him spurt, and I sometimes tease him even if he comes in my pussy, especially if something I’ve done makes him lose control unexpectedly or his experience is more intense than he’s comfortable with.

I’m not merely trying to emulate a video game, nor is it just that I love teasing (though of course I do).  I want to leave my partner no doubt that I know what he’s thinking and feeling, and teasing does that.  More important still, I tease him because I know that later, when he’s alone, he’ll conjure up the memory of what I said, the sound of my voice, and he’ll relive his embarrassment.  He’ll turn on, if only a little, and love me for being such a tease.  A man is rarely so open and vulnerable as he is at orgasm, so it’s the perfect time to make a memory.

Time.  As we’ve seen, orgasm isn’t compressed into a single instant, but spans two distinct stages, each of which lasts a number of seconds.  During the first stage, the urethra has begun to fill with semen and the man knows that ejaculation is inevitable, but the thrill of the first spurt hasn’t yet hit.  The second stage begins with that first spurt and, just by virtue of being so spectacular, offers a great deal of raw material for teasing.  A man can be teased about having an obscene display made of his ejaculation, the intensity of the pleasure and embarrassment he can’t help but feel, the thrusting of his hips, the motion of his cock—there’s a lot happening!

It’s best to start your teasing early—by the second spurt if possible.  Your partner is most sensitive to it then.  The first couple of spurts shatter his defenses, open him up, keep him from starting to rebuild.  Also, a good tease will have a profound effect on his emotions all through the rest of his orgasm; if you hit him with it early, you color the entire experience, including the part that’s naturally most intense.

It should come as no surprise, then, that the most powerful teasing is that which is done during the first stage of orgasm, before ejaculation begins.  It’s not just the timing, though.  A special kind of teasing belongs here—a kind of teasing that blows a man’s mind completely.

“You’re losing it, Patty!”

O my God, she knows!

His effort to hold off his ejaculation wasn’t casual.  His whole being was focused on it, about to be swept away by that final loss of control.  And even though he knew he was coming, he clung to the belief that it wasn’t over because I didn’t know.  After all, I wasn’t in his head; I wasn’t in his cock; I hadn’t yet seen him spurt.  As long as he could keep that from happening, he had a chance.

Then I teased him and suddenly I was in there with him—in his head, in his cock—I had got myself all the way into his soul.  He was coming and I knew he was coming.  I was sharing his struggle to hold off the first spurt, sharing his tingle, sharing his embarrassment.  The display of his ejaculation for my amusement would still be humiliating, but it was no longer the criterion by which we would know I had made him come.  The tease showed him that delaying the first spurt by a few seconds wasn’t enough to hide what was happening, not even for those few seconds.  I knew him too intimately for that.  I had confronted him with proof, when he was least able to deal with it, that I understood the secrets of his sexuality better than he had imagined any woman ever could.

And then, with all that going on inside him, he lost the contraction and spurted.  What a thrill!

Though it may be less obvious, the same thing happened to Tony the second time Denise tortured him.  Just before he started to spurt, she hit him with, “Ooh, you’re gonna be sorry you let go!”

He already knew that.  He had clearly consented to Denise’s agenda, which was that she would bring him to orgasm and then torture him.  Still, he couldn’t help but be anxious about the degree of distress and embarrassment she might inflict, and her tease was directed to that anxiety.  Since the anxiety would still be there after his ejaculation was under way, she could have waited until then to tease him.  Indeed the first time she tortured him, she had done just that, even using a similar line—“Ooh, you know what happens now!”

The lines could have been interchanged without altering the quality of either experience.  A tease about the consequences of a man’s failure to resist orgasm is effective whether it precedes or follows the start of ejaculation.  Still the two experiences were different for Tony, and the timing of Denise’s teasing is what made the difference.  When she said, before he started to ejaculate, “you’re gonna be sorry you let go,” one of the things she was telling him was that she knew he had already let go—that he was coming and could no longer stop, not even to save himself from the torture that she now implied would be worse than he had expected.  She brought him to the sudden realization that she knew him too well for comfort, and it added immeasurably to his embarrassment and sense of vulnerability.  He had prepared himself to deal with the rest of the experience, but not this twist, and it overwhelmed him.

The first time Francesca let go of Roy’s cock as he started to come, she teased him about the show he was going to give her.

“What I get to see!”

It was a good tease, but it would have been even better if it had come a few seconds earlier.  The way it actually went, she started speaking as Roy’s muscles relaxed in preparation for the first spurt.  She waited that long because she wasn’t sure she could recognize the onset of ejaculatory inevitability and because she didn’t yet understand how much more intense Roy’s experience would be if she spoke sooner.

By removing her hand and saying the same thing just as his cock reached maximum stiffness, she would have catapulted him suddenly into a trip very much like Patrick’s.  Faced with the prospect of having to ejaculate with nothing holding his cock, he would have made a desperate attempt to regain control.  It would have been impossible, and he would have had several very long seconds in which to experience the conflict between his egoistic compulsion to save himself from embarrassment and his physical need to ejaculate.  During that time, he would have been acutely aware that his cock was sticking up, not just in a normal state of erection but obscenely, and that if he relaxed the muscles that held it that way, even for a moment, they’d immediately contract again and his cock would bounce back up and spurt.  Not only that, but he would have felt Francesca in there with him the whole time, fully aware of what he was going through and intending every bit of it.

Though it’s valuable to understand all this, there’s no cause to lament Francesca’s actual timing.  She did what she knew how, and Roy was thoroughly embarrassed and loved her for it.  Even had she fully understood the potential of an earlier tease, she might have chosen to do as she did, then adjust her timing on a subsequent occasion so as to again give him more than he was prepared to handle.

_____

Powerful as this sort of tease is, you’re unlikely to use it often.  I don’t.  It’s appropriate only when a man is restrained and has a reason to resist coming.  Most lovemaking—even most of my lovemaking—isn’t like that.  Bondage involves a fair amount of work, and few women have Francesca’s motivation to do all that work every time.  Besides, we all like variety and spontaneity in our lovemaking and a steady diet of bondage limits that.

Usually then, when you tease your partner during his climax, it will be after he’s started to ejaculate.  To get a clear picture of the effect this produces, let’s review the teases of this type that we’ve seen so far.

As soon as Patrick lost it, I teased him again.

“Ooh, sperm!”

I was confident that I had a good read on his emotional reality.  He felt as though he had been tied up by a teenage girl who was making him have an orgasm to satisfy her curiosity about what she would see.  My tease hooked that feeling.  It was just what I might have exclaimed if I had actually been a curious teenager who had heard a description of the process of ejaculation but never witnessed it.

Even if I was wrong about his emotional reality, it was a good tease for the circumstances.  Not only do I get to make you feel this delicious thrill whenever I want, I get to know exactly when you’re feeling it.  Because even if you manage to lie perfectly still, you splash that white goop all over. My obvious enthusiasm gave him cause to worry that he’d be put on display in the same humiliating way again and again.

I wanted Patrick to have a full album of memories by which to remember his enslavement, so I heaped another tease on top of that.

“That must feel so good!”

Orgasms are like that.  Despite his anxiety about the impending torture, Patrick couldn’t help but feel the pleasure I’d forced on him.  I knew, and it added to his embarrassment.

The first time Denise tied Tony to his bed and made him come by hand, she said, “Uh-huh! All over you!”

One of the reasons a man is so embarrassed when you tie him down and bring him off by hand is that the wet reminds him, at a deep psychological level, of the accidents he had during his toilet training.  What Denise said to Tony was aimed at that association.  I don’t recommend this sort of tease unless you’re sure your partner won’t take it badly.  It isn’t really necessary because he knows he’s wetting himself whether you mention it or not, so teasing him about some other aspect of the scene, such as the show he’s giving you, is no less embarrassing.  If you imply that he’s soiling himself, he’s likely to conclude that you regard his semen as dirty.  Almost any man will be put off by that, the Loop notwithstanding.  He’ll take it as a rejection of his physical self and infer that you don’t love him or even that you dislike him.

If you know that your partner is turned on by the idea of being made to soil himself (some men are), then by all means tease him in this manner.  But if he’s like most, or if you’re unsure, there’s no reason to tread so close to the line; there are plenty of teases that carry no implication of rejection.

The first time Linda tied Stephan down and he came just as she was putting his cock inside her, she commented on it right away.

“Oh, how embarrassing!”

She knew it was, and she knew that that remark would make it even more so.

“Wow! I can feel every little twitch!”

O my God!  Of course she can.  She’s not moving; she’s not all worked up; she’s just sitting there savoring the feel of my cock throbbing in her pussy.  She made me come before I wanted to, and I’m so embarrassed, and she’s entertaining herself with my come and my embarrassment and teasing me about it.

The next time they fucked and he lost control like that, she echoed the same tease.

“I get to feel it again!  Every little twitch!”

The first three words let him know that she was pleased with the way things were turning out, that she was happy that his loss of control was giving her another opportunity to relaxedly enjoy the sensation of his come.  He was embarrassed, and he knew that she knew he was embarrassed, and she wasn’t doing anything to relieve his embarrassment; instead she was making it more intense by so obviously reveling in his situation.

She spoke as soon as he started to spurt, so he knew she wasn’t talking about what she had already felt happen inside her, as she had the first time, but she was instead expressing enthusiasm for what would inevitably follow.  Now that you’ve started to come, I get to feel every twitch.  You can’t stop until you’re done, and you can’t pull out even though you’re not restrained this time, because it’s in your nature that once you start coming you want to be all the way inside me even more than you want to escape your embarrassment.  Besides, if you pulled out, I could move myself around to where I could watch the rest of your come, and that would be even worse.

Did she really think all that when she spoke those nine words?  Of course not.  But every bit of it and more went through his head when he heard them, even as he came.  It made for a truly overwhelming experience and an extremely strong bond of affection, and it undoubtedly contributed to his decision to spend the rest of his life as her love slave.

One more—this one from just after Linda and Stephan were married, when she tied him down again, put his cock in her pussy once more, and made him lose control the same way.

“Ooh! Exciting, isn’t it?”

Not every tease has to be a work of creative genius.  Almost any tease will make a memory, and a tease that’s reasonably consistent with your partner’s thoughts and feelings (as this one certainly was) will make him feel you’ve found your way inside all his thoughts and feelings.

And that’s what teasing is about—making your partner feel that he’s known as intimately as a person can be, and making memories.  It works.  If you used to think that all teasing is bad, I hope you’re reconsidering.  Teasing can be done lovingly, with no trace of hostility, and without inflicting pain.  It’s a natural part of making love.

Attention

I live not thirty miles from another woman who, like me, fancies herself something of a dominatrix.  I’ve never met her, but over the years, her rumor has reached me a number of times.  My best source was a friend whose lover had had a brief liaison with her four years earlier.  Because my friend knew of my interest in female domination, she gathered all the information she could and passed it along.  Then there was anecdote here, an impression there, and I was able to assemble quite a clear picture.

Though her nickname might suggest otherwise, Killer seems to have no more predilection for violence than I do.  She chose that quaint moniker because she believes that her techniques cause men to fall painfully in love with her while she herself remains aloof and unattached, changing partners frequently and leaving behind a trail of broken hearts.

In actual fact, men hasten to disentangle themselves from her even more rapidly than she, from them.  They find her style of lovemaking unsatisfying and quickly come to regard her as a kook.  A typical encounter, described from the perspective of my friend’s lover, went like this:

After she tied me to the bed and mounted me, she put her hands on her hips and starting bouncing up and down and talking about how I was falling in love with her.  She was saying, “you,” but she really seemed to be talking to herself, and she was looking straight ahead at the wall.  I couldn’t get into her rhythm, either; it was choppy, more like a machine than a woman.  I figured I’d better try to go along, so I got off by thinking about someone else.  When I did, she said, “Made you come!” and let out a cackle.  I guess it was supposed to be a giggle, but it was kind of loud and crazy-sounding.  She was so weird that when she untied me without hurting me, I was surprised.

Of course that’s a paraphrase, and my friend had to ask a few questions to elicit the details, but I’m sure it’s substantially accurate; it’s consistent with everything else I’ve heard about Killer.

Clearly this woman is enthusiastic about female domination and derives a great deal of enjoyment from her fantasies of being a dominatrix.  Just as clearly, her relationships with men are so poorly rooted in reality that they can’t be sustained.  Sure, she gets men into bed with her, and even into her, but she ignores them in favor of her fantasies while preventing them from ignoring her.  This turns them off.  The really good ones move on in search of partners with whom they can be truly intimate, while the rest find partners they can tune out in favor of their own fantasies.

If Killer were less involved in her fantasies, she might be an effective dominatrix.  More important, some man might fall in love with her, as she now only imagines they do, and she could get to know him—discover the soul behind the body.  I’m sure she’d find it much more satisfying than what she’s been doing.

The key is attention.  Attention is an absolutely essential technique of female domination.  Naturally.  Attention is an absolutely essential technique of everything we do, or at least of everything we do well.  A Zen master might go so far as to say it’s the only technique, but I have no more real knowledge of Zen than I do of the internal workings of my motorcycle, so I’ll confine my pontifications to female domination.

Perhaps you suspect that Killer is a caricature I invented to illustrate a lesson.  Obviously she’s a caricature, but I didn’t invent her.  She’s real and I’ve described her as accurately as I could.  She made herself into a caricature by neglecting attention, and I seized the opportunity to illustrate my point, though if I hadn’t heard about Killer, I don’t suppose I’d know that the point needed to be made.

Attention is necessary to any relationship because it allows you to know your partner.  That’s simple.  If you don’t pay attention to him, you won’t know him.  If you do pay attention, you learn his likes and dislikes, what turns him on and what turns him off, and countless other details—some useless but lovable, others useful.  How much time without sex does it take to make him obsessively horny?  What sort of teasing does he take as too mean to be sexy?  Which of your behavioral quirks does he find particularly endearing?  On and on.

He may even let you know, perhaps unintentionally, how best to dominate him.  His conversation will suggest scenarios, and those scenarios will often turn out to be the ones that have the greatest erotic effect on him, that bond him to you most strongly.  One of my lovers, for example, told me that as a child he had been repeatedly tickled into helplessness by his two sisters.  It turned out to be a good thing to do to him, and highly erogenous, though it isn’t a good thing to do to most men even if they’re ticklish.

When making love, attention enhances the accuracy and clarity with which you perceive what’s happening in your partner’s body and psyche.  You’re better able to gauge the effects of your words and actions, and the feedback you gather helps keep those words and actions on target.

Your attention can be perceived by your partner as well.  He knows whether you’re focused on him, and his experience is more intense if you are.  Your attention grabs his, and turns what might otherwise be just an experience of his own sensations into an experience of you, in all your complexity.

Ultimately the Loop itself depends on your attention, because your attention is an essential part of your partner’s embarrassment.  Just as nothing can embarrass him when he’s alone, nothing will embarrass him if he’s being ignored.  It’s the feeling that your attention is focused on his loss of control that causes his embarrassment and his arousal to run away with one another.

Consider the technique I used to excite Drew before he masturbated for me, the technique I use to make Patrick drip when he was trying not to.  Attention.  Pure attention in the case of Drew; attention augmented by teasing in the case of Patrick, but pure attention would have been enough.

With all that in mind, perhaps we can strike a compromise with Zen:  Attention is the only technique, but we won’t neglect the others.

Before the last of their many fights split them up permanently, I chanced to meet Denise and Tim at a party.  He was every bit as unpleasant has her most antagonistic descriptions, and I took a strong dislike to him.

She soon began a similar relationship with Joe, another gregarious and aggressive young man, whom I disliked as much as Tim.  I continued telling her about female domination, convinced she would try it eventually.  It seemed clear that she liked to fight and chose men with whom she had that in common.  I was curious what she might do with my techniques.

Inevitably she broke up with Joe.  When she was sure he wouldn’t be back, she told me, “Next man I get mixed up with, I’m gonna do all that stuff you’ve been telling me about.”

The next man was Tony.  She made sure I met him early in their relationship, and I could see that her new agenda hadn’t inspired the slightest adjustment in her selection criteria.  Tony had the same defects of character as his predecessors, and I found him just as obnoxious.

The beginning of their relationship was unremarkable.  Denise set out to prepare Tony for enslavement much as I later prepared Patrick, and everything went according to plan until just after the first time she tied him to the bed.  He obviously enjoyed it, but the next time they got together, he wanted to fuck her in the ass.  That didn’t appeal to her, and she refused.  He took the position that since he had let her tie him up, she owed him.  She didn’t see it that way, and they wound up shouting at one another.

During the course of their shouting match, she told him that not only would she never let him into her ass, but if he wanted to go on seeing her, he’d have to let her tie him up every time they got together.  He left mad, and when she and I met the next day, she asked what I would do in her place.

Curious though I was to see where their relationship might go, I answered honestly.  I told her I would hope he was discouraged enough to stay away, and that if he wasn’t, I would end the relationship myself.  I would figure that since he had made such a fuss about it, anal sex must be as important to him as female domination is to me, and he would never be happy without it.  Sure, he could be enslaved, and once that was accomplished he could be forbidden to make an issue of it, but I like my relationships light and easy, and I want my partners to be completely happy with me, so I would wish him luck in finding a woman who likes anal sex and I would find a man who doesn’t.

That advice didn’t suit Denise.  She wanted to win her battle with Tony, enslave him, and tease him about never getting into her ass.  Fine!  I could deal with that.  I would have preferred that he be condemned to a life of celibacy, but since that wasn’t going to happen, he certainly deserved what Denise was planning.  I would help in any way I could.

Now, Tony was the sort who’d bump a stranger on the sidewalk, apologize, then give him the finger after getting out of range.  We realized that coercing him into promising to be Denise’s love slave while he was desperately horny, or while he was being tortured, wouldn’t work.  He’d feel obliged to renounce the promise even if he wanted to keep it, just as a matter of pride.  What she’d have to do was turn him into her love slave, then get him to acknowledge that that’s what he had become.

After a few days, Tony called her.  He apologized for his boorish behavior and asked for a date.  Denise accepted and they got together.  When he started making moves on her, she reminded him that the only way they were going to make love was with him tied to the bed.  He protested that she couldn’t be serious, and she said she was.  He agreed to let her tie him.  She told him to take off all his clothes and lie down.  When he did, she tied his wrists to the legs of the bed, undressed, straddled his face, and had him eat her.

When she was satisfied, she sat herself near his hip with her legs folded under her.

“You know, some day you’re gonna be my out-and-out sex slave.  You’re gonna do every little thing I tell you, you’re gonna do it my way, and you’re gonna be happy about it.  When that’s the way it is, I’m gonna tie you up just like this, and sit on that dick, and fuck you silly.”

“What about today?”

“What about it?”

“I let you tie me up, didn’t I?”

“You’re a long way from being any kind of slave.  I’ll know when you’re ready.”

“You gonna untie me?”

“I’m not that mean.  I’ll give you a good come first.  But instead of getting to put it in my pussy, you’re gonna have to let me watch it go all over you.”

She made it happen just that way, and she teased him about it again as his ejaculation began.  “Uh-huh! All over you!”

She kept stroking until he tried to pull away.

“Stop!”

She did.  “Sensitive, huh?”

He took a moment to collect himself, then lay there looking at her.

“You come good?”

“Yeah.”

“Good!  That means you’re gonna be wanting me to do that for you again some day.”

She untied him and started dressing.

“You know, next time I’m not gonna stop that soon.  I’m gonna keep playing with you for a good long time, no matter what you say.”

“You’re crazy!”

“That why I’m gonna do it?”

“What makes you think I’ll give you the chance?”

“Intuition.”

“Fuck you!”

“No, you’re gonna be tied up, and I’m gonna fuck you, but it’s not gonna be anytime soon.”

“You bitch!”

“Thanks, but you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.  You’re gonna find out just how much a bitch I am.”

She finished dressing and left.

They had lunch together a couple of times during the days that followed, but neither of them mentioned what Denise had said.  She got the impression that either Tony didn’t take her seriously, or he was hoping she would forget, or he expected her to be overcome by a desire to have him fuck her.

The next time they were alone in his apartment, he came on to her as always.  When the time seemed right, she told him, “This isn’t gonna go any further without you being tied up.”

“Shit! You’re crazy!”

“Okay, but I told you that’s the way it’s gonna be.  If you want, I’ll go home right now.”

He decided to do it her way.

She tied him to the bed, finished undressing, and sat down on his chest, one leg on either side.

“You like looking at this, don’t you?”

No answer.

“If you don’t, I can cover it up for good.”

“I like it.”

“I thought you do.  Like I told you, it’s gonna make you my slave.  You’re gonna do everything I say, just because I’ve got this pussy between my legs and you know what a thrill it can give you.”

“I’m not going to argue with you.”

“Good! I can think of something much better you can do with your mouth.”

She repositioned herself so he could do it and had him go on until she was satiated.  Then she sat next to him as she had the previous time.  His cock was more than hard; it was pulsing and dripping.  She looked at it with obvious interest.

“You do like my pussy!”

“Sure I do!”

“Remember what I told you I was gonna do?”

“You said you were gonna tie me up like this and fuck me silly.”

“Yeah, I said I was gonna do that some time.  Remember what I said I was gonna do this time?”

“No.”

“I told you I’m gonna keep playing with your dick after you come and it’s all sensitive.  You remember now?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s what I’m gonna do.  And next time I tie you up I’m gonna do the same thing again, and I’m gonna ask you first whether you remember, and if you don’t, or you don’t want to tell me, we’re gonna have to do it again the time after that.  You understand?”

His face looked like he wanted to let loose a stream of curses, but his cock kept pulsing.

“Yeah.”

“You ought to forget about being mad about all this.  You knew what was gonna happen tonight.  You didn’t have to invite me up here.”

“I couldn’t believe you meant it.”

“Next time you’re gonna know, and you’re gonna let me tie you up anyway, and then we’re both gonna know it’s because you want it.”

She went to work on his cock, and he came in just a few seconds.

“Ooh, you know what happens now!”

She milked him until he was in such a pitiful state, she felt sorry for him.

“I bet you wish you never even thought about getting into my ass.”

“I’m sorry.  I won’t ask you about it any more.”

“That’s good.  I’m still gonna do this same thing to you whenever I feel like, and I’m gonna do it for sure next time I tie you up, just like I said.”

She untied him.

He tried something new:  he thought before speaking.

“I love you, Denise.  I didn’t mean any harm when I wanted to do that thing.  Can’t we make love again without you hurting me?”

“After a while I’ll only hurt you sometimes, but first you gotta learn your lesson, and you gotta be my slave.”

He didn’t argue.  She cuddled him and he responded “almost like he was civilized,” as she described it to me a couple of days later.

When he started drifting off to sleep, she dressed and went home.  He asked her to stay the night, but she declined.  She didn’t want to be there in the morning when he might be horny enough to want sex but not so desperate as to need it on her terms.

The next weekend they went to a football game, then wound up in his apartment again.  This time he didn’t start pawing at her.

“I guess if I want to make love with you I have to let you tie me up and hurt me again.”

“You got it!”

“Okay, I’m ready when you are.”

She was tempted to lie down and have him eat her before she tied him, so she could relax completely while he was doing it, but she knew that that would give him an erection, and she wanted to see whether a discussion of what she was going to do would have the same effect all by itself.

“Good!” she said.  “Get those clothes off your body and lie down.”

She tied him in place.  His cock wasn’t completely flaccid but not really hard either.  She was still dressed.  She sat next to him.

“I’m glad you’re learning you have to do things my way.  How do you like it?—being tied up like this and knowing what I’m gonna do to you?”

“Christ! Ain’t it enough that I’m letting you do it?  Do I have to tell you I like it too?”

“You have to tell me the truth.  That’s part of being my slave, and you better get used to it if you ever want to get in my pussy again.”

He glared at her.  “I think this is sick!”

“Maybe it is.  How do you like it?”

He glared at her a while longer, but the hostility slowly faded from his expression and soon he appeared to be simply at a loss for words.

“Do you know how you like it?”

“No.”

“Okay, we’ll see how you like it.”

She looked at his cock.

“You know, with you tied down like this, all naked, your dick is mine. I can rub it until it gets hard, and I can keep rubbing it and make you come, and I can keep rubbing it after that, so you know what pussy power is. And all the time before you come, you’ll be thinking how it’ll feel to have me keep rubbing it like that, you not being able to stop it, and it’ll turn you on so much, you’ll have to come, and I’ll get to watch you hump the air like you was fucking, and you’ll have to hump, too, ‘cause you’ll be coming so good from knowing what comes next.”

His cock was growing.

“See?  You do like it!  I’m gonna have to do this sometimes after you’re my slave, it turns you on so much.  Won’t that be something?—being my sex slave, and me knowing you get a hard-on for having your dick rubbed and rubbed after you’re done coming.”

His cock was fully erect.

“You know, next time we’re gonna do this same thing again, and I’m gonna ask you how you like it, and you better give me a straight answer.  I mean, if you like it, tell me.  If you’re embarrassed but it turns you on anyway, tell me that.  But you gotta tell me something. You understand?”

“Yeah.”

“I better make sure I get something out of this.”

She undressed, straddled his face, and took her fill, then resumed her seat at his side.

“You start getting used to what I said:  your dick is mine.”

She started stroking it.

“Enjoy that as long as you can; you know how it’s gonna feel once you let yourself come.  And I get to watch the whole thing!”

In a few seconds he was panting.  His cock stiffened and he arched his back.

“Ooh, you’re gonna be sorry you let go!”

His orgasm was as spectacular as she’d told him it would be, and she kept rubbing his cock for as long as she’d said too.  He seemed on the verge of tears when she finally stopped.

She untied him, dried him off, held him in her arms.

“I’m hungry,” she said at last.  “You gonna buy me dinner for doing that?”

He groaned.  “Yeah.”

Tony treated Denise respectfully after that, without the undercurrent of hostility that had so often been apparent before.  When they made their next date, it was clear that he expected her to put him through the same treatment.  She got the impression he was even looking forward to it.

As she’d promised, Denise asked him, once he was tied down, how he felt about what she was going to do to him.

“Embarrassed.  Turned on at the same time.”

“Good! I’m glad you learned to talk about it.  What embarrasses you about it?”

“I think how you’re gonna hurt me after I come, and it makes me so I have to come.”

“Heavy, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You think you’re my sex slave yet?”

“Yeah, I must be, if I’m going along with all this.”

“Next time we’ll see if you really are.  I got some plans for you to prove yourself.”

“Oh, Jesus!”

She made him come, made him squirm, made him beg her to stop, untied him, held him.  It was going well.

The next time they were alone together, she had him take off all his clothes as soon as the door was closed behind them.  She hugged him and kissed him until he was hard, then backed away and teased him about how he looked with his cock sticking out in front of him.  She told him to lie down.

“You gonna tie me up again?”

“You’ll see.”

He lay down and she sat next to him in her usual position.

“I have my period today.  I don’t want to even get undressed.”  She stopped talking.

“Oh.”

She waited a bit longer, then told him, “What I want to do is watch you play with your dick yourself, until you come.”

He looked like he was thinking about arguing, but he didn’t.  Instead he asked, “Do I get to stop when I’m done?”

She laughed.  “Whenever you want.”

He started stroking his cock.

“You ever done this in front of a woman before?”

“No.”

“See how good it is to be my sex slave?  You get to try something new!”

His breathing was getting heavy.

“How does it feel to have me watching you?”

“Embarrassing as all hell!”

“Ooh, yeah!”

He kept at it a while longer and came.

“Ooh, is that how you do it?  You pull the skin back all the way and stop, so it feels like you’re pushed all the way into a woman’s pussy.”

“It was something!” she told me afterward.  “When I said that, he had this extra little thrill, kind of like a shiver.  I saw it go all through him, then he let go his dick and just lay there with his eyes closed.”

The first chance she got after her period was over, she tied him down again.

“What are you gonna do to me this time?” he asked.

“You’ll find out.  Maybe the same thing we’ve been doing, maybe something new.”

She had him eat her as always, then took her usual seat near his hip.

“You sure you’re my sex slave?” she asked, trying to sound as ominous as possible.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“You want a chance to come in my pussy?”

“Yeah!”  He sounded surprised, enthusiastic.

“I’ll give you a choice.  You know how I’ve been playing with your dick after you’re done coming?”

“Yeah?”

“I can do that with my pussy, too.  If you want me to fuck you, just tell me, and I’ll do it, but I’ll keep humping you like you can’t imagine!  If you don’t think you can take it, I’ll do you like I’ve been, but I’ll stop before it starts hurting.”

“Jesus!”

“You gotta make up your mind.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“I thought that’s what you’d want.”

She put his cock in her pussy and fucked him with long, slow strokes, keeping her body near his.

“Remember this good; you might have to play with yourself ten more times before I do it again.”

Soon he was panting.  He arched his back, pushed himself all the way into her, spurted.  She came with him, but managed to remember her mission before he was finished.  She pressed him down to the bed and continued thrusting, keeping herself low enough so he couldn’t pull out of her.  He tried, but she had him pinned.  She tightened her vaginal muscles and kept at it, watching the pathetic expression on his face.

“It’s something, ain’t it?—what a woman can do to you!”

“Please stop,” he sobbed.

But she couldn’t.  She was starting to come again and he had to take it.

When it was over, she sat up with his cock still inside her.  She watched him gather himself together—almost—then she reached back and tickled his scrotum with her fingertips.

“Aaaaaaagh!”  That shiver again.

“That’s what it’s like when I fuck you silly.  How do you like being my sex slave?

“I like it!  Whatever you want!”

“You know, you never will get to put your dick in my ass.”

“It’s all right.  I’m sorry I said anything.”

“Good!  I better untie you.”

She climbed off him and undid the knots.

Tony was hers for quite a while.  They parted, still on good terms, when Denise moved east about a year later.

Tony’s path to sexual enslavement took an unusual twist because his domineering and belligerent style presented Denise with a challenge that she transformed into an opportunity.  Some men have quirks that are very different, but still offer opportunities—often great opportunities.

At thirty-one, Stephan was president of his third corporation.  He’d founded a high-tech company in Silicon Valley when he was twenty-three, sold out at a tremendous profit three years later, founded another within a year, and repeated the process.  He was a millionaire twice over.

The company was a small one, but its product was a sure success, and that was enough for Stephan.  He liked presidencies and he liked making money, but he didn’t feel a need to risk everything he had.

Outside his office sat my friend Linda, twenty-seven years old at the time, beautiful and uncommonly intelligent.  Stephan had hired her as a receptionist, secretary and status symbol.  Though he wasn’t explicit about it during her interview, he clearly intended that she satisfy his sexual needs as well, at least when he couldn’t spare the time to chase down someone else.  He was a notorious womanizer.  I knew his reputation and had told Linda what she could expect.

Inevitably they became lovers.  She found him competent but unimaginative.  He liked to fuck in the missionary position and did it well, but he resisted her occasional attempts to get on top.  Still she liked him and enjoyed their relationship.  Whatever his reputation as a womanizer, he treated her as a human being, not an object, and she appreciated it.

She did her job well enough to become indispensable, and she was a more interesting and personable companion than any of his previous secretaries—probably than any other woman he had ever known.  In a few months, he was in love with her.  When she felt sufficiently secure, she told him one evening as they undressed that she was going to tie him to the bed.  He objected, but she said it was that or nothing, so he let her.

When she finished tying the knots, he was obviously frightened:  his heart was pounding and he showed no sign of sexual arousal.  She straddled his face and had him tongue her through one orgasm, then repositioned herself to see how his cock was doing.  It was ready.

“I see my pussy still turns you on.  Neat!”

She straddled his cock, held it in place, and lowered herself onto it.  As it slid into her, an expression of panic crossed his face.  For a moment he stopped breathing.  Then he looked at her pleadingly and ejaculated.

“Oh, how embarrassing!” she said, lowering herself all the way.

He lay there helpless as his cock continued pumping.

“Wow!” she said, “I can feel every little twitch!”

His chagrin was plainly visible as his orgasm subsided.  She remained where she was, holding his cock in her pussy, looking down at him.

“I know what happened to you.  You started thinking how embarrassing it would be if you lost control and came too soon; and the idea of having me see it happen was so exciting, it made you come.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not!  I think it’s neat!”

She smiled affectionately and thought.

“You know, you’ll never be able to fuck me like you used to after this, because now that we both know how excited you get at the thought of letting me see you lose control, you’ll get so embarrassed every time you try, it’ll make you come right away like you just did.”

Alarm!  “You mean you won’t let me make love to you any more?”

“I didn’t say that.  We’ll make love plenty, but we’ll have to find other ways to do it, especially if I’m going to have a chance to come too.”

“It was probably just being tied up like this that made that happen.  All we really have to do is go back to doing things normally.”

“I’m not sure I want to do things normally.  It’s fun being able to turn you on so much that you can’t control your come.  It’d be a real neat secret for us to share.”

He looked worried.

I’ll tell you what,” she continued.  “Let’s see what happens.  Next time I’ll let you try making love to me the way we’ve been doing.  If it goes the same as always, we’ll know that it was tying you up that made you lose control; but if you come right away, you’ll let me figure out what to do about it.  Okay?”

“Okay.”

She raised herself up and untied him.

Linda had developed a good working knowledge of Stephan’s biological rhythms, so she was able to make sure he was especially horny the next time they made love.  She simply arranged to be unavailable the evening she expected him to be ready, so he’d have that much greater a need for release the next day; then she took care to arouse him as much as possible before they finally made their way to bed.

She’d been trying for days to figure out what she could do to make him come right away.  It would have to be something little—nothing as blatant as teasing him about what had happened when she tied him up, nothing that would give him cause to cry foul, preferably nothing that he would even notice.  Well, maybe he could notice, but certainly nothing he would admit to noticing.  What she wound up doing was so subtle, she herself was never sure it had any effect.

She lay on her back to receive him as always, and when he had penetrated her about halfway, she put her palms against the outer reaches of his buttocks and pulled him the rest of the way in.  Her intent was to make him feel there was no escape from what her pussy was going to do to him.

It might have been a superfluous gesture, but if it wasn’t, it worked.

The same progression unfolded a second time:  the panic, the pleading look, “Linda, I…,” the splash of his sperm against her cervix.

“I get to feel it again!  Every little twitch!”

She took his face in her hands.  It was an expression of love for the helpless little boy inside—she really did love him—and it also kept him from avoiding her eyes.

“See?  You’ve really lost it for good.”

“Linda, I…I don’t know what happened.  I…”

“Yes you do.  We both know.  You imagined how it would feel to lose control like that, with me here to share it, and the thought was so exciting, it made you come right away.”

He looked at her with the same pleading expression.

“Be honest with me now.”  She was still holding his face, looking into his eyes.  “Isn’t that what happened?”

It was a while before he could bring himself to speak.

“O my God! This is so embarrassing!”

“Well?”

“You know.”

“Sure! I knew last time.  I told you then, I think it’s neat that you get so turned on to me.”

“Are you still going to let me make love to you?”

“Yes, but maybe not like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Here, let’s get more comfortable.”  She eased him off her and he lay on his back next to her.  She took his hand in hers.

“There are lots of ways to make love,” she said.  “I’d like to show you some of my favorites.”

“That sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Well, maybe you can.  What I want is for you to be my love slave.  That might scare you.”

He hesitated.  When he spoke again he sounded scared.

“It does.  What do you mean, be your love slave?”

“I mean, I decide when and how we make love, you don’t have sex with other women, you answer me honestly when I ask you questions about your sexuality—that kind of thing.  I guess the feel of it is, we both know I can turn you on uncontrollably, and it’s a lot of fun, so you give yourself to me to turn on whenever I want, and you trust me to make sure we both enjoy it.”

After a long silence, he asked, “Can I think about it?”

“Sure.  You’ll have to agree before we make love again, but take as long as you like.”

A couple of days later, Stephan left on a trip to take care of an emergency that smelled like a complete fabrication.  Linda knew intuitively that it was to be a sexual adventure, and that his reason for traveling so far away was partly so word of his infidelity wouldn’t get back to her and partly so that if he came right away, word wouldn’t get around to anyone else.  She didn’t ask him about it, or even let on that she understood, and she never had a clue as to whether he came right away with whomever he picked as his partner.  If he did, he decided to return to Linda because she accepted him that way and he loved her.  If he performed normally, he must have found it dull.  What was important was that when he came back, he gave himself to her just has she had asked.

He gave himself wholeheartedly, and their love was like something out of a fairytale.  Ten months later they were married, even though Linda made it clear that she might choose never to fuck him again, and indeed they didn’t fuck during all those ten months.

When they had recovered from the ordeal of the wedding, she tied him down and told him, “I guess we’re supposed to celebrate our marriage by making love the traditional way, so I’m going to have you come in my pussy this one time.”

His cock twitched in response.

“Do you think you can stand a couple of minutes of me, or are you going to come as soon as you’re inside?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll tell you what.  After I get you all the way in, if you can take one more stroke, I’ll let you fuck me once more after today.  If you can take two strokes, I’ll let you fuck me twice, and so on.  If you come while you’re just getting in, or before I start moving up again, it might be your last come in my pussy.”

She squatted over him, put the head of his cock in her pussy, and started down.  He gasped and came, thrusting his hips to get all the way inside her.

“Ooh! Exciting, isn’t it?” she teased.  Then as his body started to relax and the embarrassment showed on his face, she added, “I guess my pussy’s just too much for you.”

I spoke with Linda occasionally during the years that followed, and when last I heard, she and Stephan were still happily married.  He was still in love with her and still accepted his role as her slave.  About once a year, near their anniversary, she would tie him down and fuck him.  He always came immediately and she always teased him about it.

Because she was so quick-witted and understood the Loop so well, Linda was able to make the most of the opportunity presented by Stephan’s loss of control that first time she tied him down.  With only that as a start, she built a very comfortable life for herself.  She might like to fuck a little more often, but maybe not; after all, if she really wanted to, she could.

On the downside, there’s a much greater risk that the mere attempt will scare him away for good. In a committed relationship, you’ll have to work harder to enslave your partner and there’s a greater probability that you’ll fail, but the chance that the attempt will end the relationship is slim. In an uncommitted relationship, the least likely of the three possible outcomes is that he’ll refuse to become your love slave but remain willing to negotiate some other arrangement.

I enslaved all my lovers early. Since I wasn’t interested in any other sort of relationship, I didn’t worry about scaring them off. Only two ran, but don’t let that encourage you more than it should. Remember, anyone can see before getting involved with me that I’m a tease. Remember too that I’m rarely attracted to a man unless my intuition tells me he’s well suited to my agenda. If the same number of partners had been assigned to me at random, I’m sure at least three would have run. What I’m getting at is that my advice is based on the assumption that you’re not worried about losing your man. If you are, be forewarned that I haven’t taken that into account. You may lose him. Use your priorities, not mine, in deciding whether to accept the risk.

The way I invited Patrick to become my love slave is just one possibility among many. You would likely set up a different scenario. Its exact nature would depend on your age and experience, your partner’s age and experience, quirks of your personality and his, the degree to which you’re worried about venereal infection, and so on. We’ll look here at some of the possibilities—not all, by any means, but a few that seem generally useful.

I’ll proceed from the assumption that you’re truly determined to enslave your man. This will permit me the corollary assumption that you’re willing to wield the one threat that underlies all female domination: Your man can’t have you except on your terms. You have to be willing to make that a rule, make it clear, and enforce it. If he won’t do as you say, put some distance between you and leave him sexually frustrated, accepting your own unsatisfied lust as an unfortunate necessity.

We began our survey of invitations to sexual slavery with the story of how Patrick was persuaded to accept mine. Let’s expand our perspective by looking at the major crossroads that Patrick and I negotiated as we made our way toward his acceptance. The earliest was our decision to fuck without a condom. I don’t divide that into a decision to fuck and a decision to forgo a condom, because I never use condoms. If I don’t feel comfortable fucking a man without a condom, I don’t fuck him at all. I might enslave him anyway, just as a young virgin trying to save herself for marriage might enslave her boyfriend, but the techniques I would use, like those the virgin would use, exclude fucking.

If a man is wearing a condom, the stimulation inflicted on his cock by my pussy is dulled to such a degree that he can resist it. I can’t make him come against his will as I can when he’s naked, and once he’s come, the condom dulls the effect of further stimulation, masking the sensitivity that most men experience after orgasm. If my sexual relationship with a man includes fucking, it’s while fucking that I like to find out whether he’s subject to that sensitivity. I can’t do that if he’s wearing a condom. And once I’ve found that his cock does get sensitive when he comes, I can’t play with that sensitivity while fucking him through a condom.

The second major crossroads in the unfolding of Patrick’s enslavement was my discovery that he was, in fact, one of those men who can’t bear continued stimulation after orgasm. Had I found out differently, I would have had to change my approach.

The third and last crossroads was Patrick’s refusal to acknowledge his enslavement that Saturday until after I’d made him come. Had he voiced his assent a few minutes earlier, the rest of the afternoon would have gone at least a little differently.

Those three crossroads aren’t the only ones anyone ever encounters; they’re merely the ones that stand out most clearly in my relationship with Patrick. Men often open up other possibilities by what they do in the course of a developing relationship, or by how they respond to what their partners do. We’ll look at a couple of such twists soon, but first let’s explore the alternatives arising out of the last two of the three choices we’ve identified in the story of Patrick.

We can start by putting me back where I was that first Saturday afternoon: sitting on my lover’s chest, inviting him to be my slave. What if he says yes? It happens quite often; more men have said yes than no.

“Ooh, yummy! I know just how I’m going to have you seal that agreement!”

I tie the man’s ankles, untie his hand, and tell him to play with himself until he comes.

I watch closely. I tease him about the show. I talk about how we’ll both always remember, to his great embarrassment, that I watched him do this. I point out that as my love slave, he’ll have to give me a repeat performance whenever I want, and that he’ll always be aware of the possibility. I feed the Loop every way I can. If his nipples are erogenous, I set to work on the nearest one as he approaches orgasm, and I keep playing with it until he’s done. This adds to the intimacy of the experience and prevents him from limiting his stimulation to an intensity that won’t overwhelm him. Through that nipple, I can completely destroy his composure.

If he were to refuse to play with himself, I’d warn him that he’d get very uncomfortable after lying there a few hours, and that if he doesn’t prove his willingness to be my love slave by doing as I say, our sexual relationship is over. Then I’d stimulate him lightly in an attempt to make him desperate for release. When I evoked some obvious response—a moan, a twitch of his cock—I’d say, “You like that, don’t you? You’re going to have to bring yourself off the rest of the way or you’ll never get to feel me do it again.” I’ve never had to go that far. Every man with whom I’ve gone this route has sealed the agreement as I asked, and with very little argument.

Now imagine that during my third sexual encounter with a man, I start licking his nipple without touching his cock, and he starts playing with it himself. It would be silly to try to seal a contract of sexual slavery with such a man by having him masturbate while I watched; the gesture would be meaningless. Taking this to its extreme, it’s possible to imagine a man whom I couldn’t invite to be my love slave at all, because I wouldn’t be able to think of anything I could have him to in that role, and if he agreed and kept his promise, I wouldn’t be able to tell. Fortunately I’ve never had that problem because I’m not attracted to that sort of man. Shyness is one of the qualities I need to turn me on. It doesn’t really impose much of a limitation on my choice of partners because almost all men have learned at least a little sexual shyness, even if they pretend otherwise.

What if my lover turns out to be the sort of man who experiences no discomfort at all when I continue to stimulate his cock after he comes? What I do then is pretty much what I did with Patrick. I get him used to eating me while tied down, and I wind up presenting him with the same invitation in the same way. If he accepts, I tie his ankles and tell him to seal the agreement by playing with himself while I watch.

If he declines, I explain that I need him to accept or I can’t continue our sexual relationship; that’s just the way I am. Once a man’s refusal is confronted in this way, there’s a good chance he’ll reconsider and accept. It makes no difference. If he accepts only after the choice is put to him in this manner, you can’t have him seal the agreement by masturbating then and there because he’ll be playacting. Your teasing will be directed not at him but at the character he’s portraying to satisfy your demands. He’ll go his way not as your genuinely devoted love slave but as a cynical womanizer rehearsing stories to tell his buddies about the kinky scenes he’s been acting out to satisfy your weird tastes. He’ll continue his relationship with you out of curiosity and because he expects you to continue to satisfy most of his sexual needs until he finds another woman, not because it excites him as he never imagined his own embarrassment could, and certainly not because he loves you.

If he claims to have reconsidered—to be willing to submit to you—tell him he needs to think about it a few days and then you’ll get together if he’s still sure he wants to go through with it. Other than that, don’t tell him what to expect.

He’s still horny, still tied down. Straddle his cock and put it in your pussy. Sit still and tell him that if he decides not to accept your invitation, this will be your last fuck. Embellish your speech with as much affection and sentiment as you honestly feel, and by all means encourage him to make good his acceptance. Etch in his memory a picture of you that he can love while considering. Then let your pussy do its thing, and enjoy.

I went this route with two men. Two friends tried it with one man each. One lost the man immediately. Two of the men came back to see whether their relationships with my other friend and me could continue under more conventional protocols. I said no, but the other relationship was salvaged. One man came back to me as my love slave.

Drew called me at work three days after he initially refused, then hastily reconsidered, my invitation. He told me he hadn’t been able to get me off his mind, that he needed me, that he was worried I had already written off our relationship. He wanted to see me—that evening if possible.

I surmised he was both desperately in love and desperately horny. Beautiful!

I was glad to hear from him. I loved him and I was horny myself. I regretted that I wouldn’t be able to share my own orgasm with him that evening, but I knew what had to be done. My satisfaction would have to be the solitary sort, after he had gone, but at least it would be spiced by the fresh recollection of the coming evening’s adventure and the happy thought that in time I would again feel him inside me.

I asked him when he could be over, and he suggested picking me up for dinner at seven. I told him I’d meet him at Francescas. I had no use for the elaborate courtship ritual I was sure he had in mind; I preferred the comfort of my own stamping ground, an early evening that would leave me rested for the next day’s work, and a meal light enough so as not to inhibit our sexuality.

I left work more promptly than usual, drove home, walked to the pizzeria, chatted briefly with Francesca and a couple of other friends, then settled into an empty booth. Drew arrived soon afterward. He greeted me enthusiastically and told me how happy he was to see me again. I assured him I felt the same way. We shared a stromboli, playfully cutting bite-sized pieces and feeding one another. He drove me home and I invited him in.

We took off our jackets and shoes and stood hugging and kissing until I could feel the straining of his cock. He took hold of the hem of my sweatshirt, making ready to lift it over my head.

“Unh-unh,” I said, stopping him.

“You don’t want to make love?”

“Not until I’m sure you’re really into being my slave, and love me even if I keep my shirt on.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“How about you take off your clothes?”

“If that’s what turns you on. Okay.”

If he had been dealing with the dominatrix in the fetish magazines, the tone of that remark would have earned him a whipping, and she would have stomped him with her spike heels for good measure. I didn’t even comment; he would adjust his attitude soon enough.

As he undressed, I sat down on one end of the couch. By the time he was out of his clothes, his erection had subsided. I invited him to lie down with his head on my lap. He did.

“What made you decide to call me? Getting horny?”

“I called you because I love you and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

“Do you love me even if I keep my shirt on?”

“Yes. I wish you’d take it off, but I love you whether you do or not.”

“Do you love me enough to give me that toy between your legs, to play with as I like, even if I don’t let you put it in me, or touch me, or even see me naked again?”

It grew just a little.

“Yes.”

“Mmmm!”

I smiled affectionately and looked into his eyes briefly, then I added an expression of curiosity to that affectionate smile and shifted my attention to his cock. I watched it with interest. I felt, deliberately but genuinely, the affection and curiosity that my expression showed.

It’s truly awesome what that look does; it’s one of my favorite examples of the power of femininity over the male psyche. His cock grew, angled up, and stood fully erect, just clear of the mound, pulsing slightly with the beating of his heart.

I kept watching it with the same expression, looking briefly into his eyes every few seconds.

He took my hand in his and tried to move it into position to relieve his lust.

“Unh-unh.” I pulled my hand away.

“You don’t want to play with your toy?”

“I want to watch you play with it.”

He tried to reckon how much negotiating he could get away with. None, and he knew it, but he tried one request.

“Would you take off your shirt while I do it?

“Maybe next time.”

I put new enthusiasm into my expression of affectionate curiosity and stared at his cock again. He wrapped his hand around it and began stroking, watching my eyes as he did.

When he seemed ready to come, I started lightly rubbing his nipple with the back of my hand.

I was still staring at his cock when it erupted, but I could see the desperate, questioning look on his face as he struggled, through his embarrassment and his pleasure, to make sense of what was happening, understand its significance to me, guess what it might mean to the future of our relationship.

“Big come!” I observed as his orgasm subsided.

I stopped rubbing his nipple.

He let go his cock and lay there, looking at me questioningly.

“I do love you, Drew. Don’t push to have things your way, and we’ll have a lot of fun together. Both of us. Wait here a minute.”

I got a towel, then put my lap back under his head. I set about cleaning him up.

“You were horny! That was a big load you had saved up.”

“I couldn’t get you out of my mind since Saturday. Thinking of you does that.”

“I can imagine! What were you thinking about me?

“Just loving you, wanting you, missing you, worrying about whether we could get back together, wondering what it would be like to be your love slave.”

“I guess you’ve had your first taste of that. How do you like it?”

“I don’t know. It’s better than not seeing you, but not as satisfying as what we used to do.”

“I’m sure some of what we do will suit you.”

I’d got him clean and dry. “I’ll have to send you home now. I have to get an early start tomorrow.”

He stood up and started to get back into his clothes.

“Can we get together this weekend?”

“You can call me at work on Friday. We’ll see then.”

He finished dressing and I led him to the door. We held each other for a moment and kissed.

“One more thing before you go. Wait here.”

I started back into the apartment as if to get something, then stopped about eight feet away and turned around. I lifted the hem of my sweatshirt and let him see my breasts. Four or five seconds’ worth, then I covered up again.

“Bye-bye, Drew. I love you.”

“Bye-bye, Georgeann. I love you too. And thanks.”

What I emphasized in that session with Drew was very different from what I emphasized when I enslaved Patrick. Patrick knew he was getting into something more exciting than he had ever experienced before, so I encouraged him in a purely positive way, teasing him to help him become acquainted with how his embarrassment fed his excitement and his love, and promising him unprecedented pleasure in an atmosphere of intimacy and acceptance. Drew felt he was being coerced into taking a demotion. He suspected I didn’t really love him and that I was taking advantage of his love for me so I could use him for some nefarious purpose. If I belabored his embarrassment at having to masturbate, he might well have picked up and left, so I hardly teased him at all. Instead I played on his insecurity about the future of our relationship, motivating him to go along in the hope of being rewarded the following week or the week after.

I knew, though, what the events of that evening would do to him. By the time he called Friday, he would have replayed them in his mind countless times. He would have come to appreciate how exciting it had been to feel me stare at his cock with that smile of affectionate curiosity, to know I was watching it get hard, to know that I knew it was getting hard because he was embarrassed by my staring. He certainly wouldn’t have lost interest in fucking me—that wasn’t part of my plan; I wanted to fuck him again as much as he wanted to fuck me—but he’d also know he wanted more of what he’d had that evening. He’d been led into the Loop, and it’s addictive.

Of course I fucked him again, and I embarrassed him again too, and I did both at the same time. When there was no longer any doubt about his being my slave, I stopped playing on his insecurity; and as he became more secure, I began teasing him openly about his embarrassment. And of course we both enjoyed it immensely.

What do I do with a man who, like Drew, declines the initial invitation to become my love slave, but unlike Drew, refuses to reconsider when told that the only alternative is the end of our relationship? I do the same thing. I invite him to get in touch with me if he changes in mind and I fuck him good-bye while he’s still tied down. I do it lovingly and hope he reconsiders. Does he? I’ve tried it exactly once, with a man named Chuck, and he didn’t. Two friends also tried it, once each, and one of the men reconsidered. The other relationship ended.

I’ve said that my relationships go my way or they don’t go, so if Chuck refused to be my love slave, why did I fuck him? Why didn’t I just untie him and send him on his way.

It wasn’t because I hoped that during the days that followed he would reconsider, though of course I did. Rather it was because I loved him, because I knew he loved me, because we were both horny, because it was the decent and loving thing to do. We had discovered an insurmountable incompatibility between us, one that would make it impossible for us to continue, but neither of us was to blame for that incompatibility, and it certainly didn’t necessitate denying ourselves one last expression of our love.

Most women have more reason than I do for fucking a man with whom they find themselves in such a situation; few are as committed to female domination as I am, and most don’t really want to scuttle an otherwise workable relationship for no better reason than that the man refuses to be enslaved. If you secretly hope that your man, having rejected sexual slavery, will come back and ask you to continue in a more conventional relationship rather than just disappearing from your life, do take care to treat him decently.

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Before you set about restraining your lover, be sure he’s horny—very horny. He should be comfortable too, not ill nor in pain, and not troubled by allergies that will keep him sneezing or itching. His bladder and rectum should be empty and you should have a reasonable expectation that neither will fill soon.

The place where he’s to be tied should be warm, perhaps even too warm. Physiologically, a cold environment inhibits sexual response, especially when the stimulation offered isn’t the cuddly sort. Psychologically, bondage can be frightening, and a person placed in a situation that’s both sexually stimulating and frightening has a choice, usually made preconsciously, between turning on and getting scared. The close link between cold and fear is part of your own experience: it’s easier to get scared when you’re cold, and fright gives you chills. To keep your man from being distracted by either of these creepy twins, be sure he’s warm.

Food can be a problem. A man won’t be nearly so responsive with a big meal in his stomach as without it.

Alcohol, barbiturates and narcotics are disasters. I advise against restraining a man for sexual purposes if he’s had so much as a single drink. He’ll find you too easy to resist. His attention is impaired, so he may tune you out. At the same time, the nerves that carry sensation from his penis to his brain are at least somewhat anesthetized. If he succeeds in resisting you, it may damage both your confidence and your credibility, so it’s better not to take the chance. Even if he can’t resist you, he may later refuse to take your interaction seriously, dismissing it as the result of his chemical state. And of course, there’s the obvious objection to engaging in any form of lovemaking with a man who’d under the influence of any depressant drug: He isn’t capable of fully appreciating you and he isn’t fully present for you to appreciate in return.

Some drugs, on the other hand, enhance a man’s responsiveness and make you harder to resist. Three that deserve consideration are coffee, chocolate and cannabis. Coffee contains caffeine, which is a powerful nervous stimulant. It enhances both sexual sensation and the psychological processes of sexual response. Unfortunately it’s also a strong diuretic, while the substances that give coffee its flavor are powerful bladder irritants. To top it off, coffee is almost entirely water. The result is that a man dosed with coffee will soon experience a strong need to urinate, which will cause considerable bother if he’s tied in place and distract him from sex whether he’s tied or not. The effect will be somewhat mitigated if he was dehydrated to begin with, especially if he’s young and healthy with a large, resilient bladder.

Chocolate is much better. Its active agent is theobromine, another powerful stimulant, but not so strong a diuretic as caffeine. Chocolate doesn’t irritate the bladder and is easily consumed without water.

Only the strongest chocolate contains enough theobromine to be useful as an aphrodisiac. Milk chocolate won’t do, and most men won’t eat baking chocolate because it’s too bitter. That leaves semisweet, also known as bittersweet or dark. Even most of this is inadequate; you have to know which formulations really work. The bittersweet chocolates imported from Switzerland and Holland are excellent but expensive. Most American chocolate can’t compare, but a few brands can, and at a reasonable price. See what’s available in your area and try it on yourself to make a selection on which you can come to rely.

Besides being an aphrodisiac, chocolate is food and chocolate is fuel. If a man is hungry, but a meal will inhibit his responses, a dose of chocolate will relieve his hunger enough so he isn’t distracted, but it won’t fill him up. It will also warm him as it’s metabolized, decreasing the likelihood that he’ll be turned off by cold or fear.

An ounce of dark chocolate will make a significant difference in the sexual responsiveness of a man of average size. Two ounces will make a big difference. It’s hard to get someone to eat more than that unless he’s very hungry.

Cannabis, whether in the form of marijuana, hashish, hash oil, space cakes or whatever, has one major drawback: it’s illegal in the United States, though less so in some states than others. Despite its illegality, it’s so readily available that its usefulness as an aphrodisiac is worth examining.

Cannabis enhances sensory appreciation. If you subject your man to sexual stimulation, his attention is more strongly drawn to that stimulation and he feels it with greater intensity than without cannabis. Cannabis also encourages the belief—usually delusional—that one’s thoughts and feelings are obvious, and at the same time it discourages reality testing. This combination makes the Loop inescapable. Once you start teasing him about his inability to resist you, a man under the influence of cannabis knows you can read his thoughts and feelings, and he won’t test that knowledge for fear that whatever he says will only move the conversation in a direction that will embarrass him all the more.

Consider, though, the cliché of the double-edged sword. The use of cannabis is traditionally a social ritual; you don’t administer it but share it. You get stoned too, and that can make it difficult to maintain a confident demeanor in the face of adversity. If you pull a shocker like trying to get your man to agree to be your love slave, or telling him for the first time that some terrible consequence will befall him if he allows himself to ejaculate, he may not take it well. Though he’s less likely while stoned to make a conscious effort to bluff you off course, he may truly be outraged or turned off, and not know that if you were to begin stimulating him, confidently and teasingly, his orientation would quickly and dramatically change. If he tells you you’re a bad person or makes threats against the future of your relationship, you’re likely to find it exceedingly difficult to remember that he can’t see how worried you are, and even more difficult to test the reality of the situation by going ahead with whatever it takes to turn him on.

For this reason, I advise against using cannabis when your agenda includes anything new and surprising that your man may take badly. If that means you can’t give it to him either, so be it. There are exceptions of course. Some people are so used to cannabis that they can handle anything; if you’re such a person, you already know that my cautionary advice isn’t for you. Going one step further, you and your partner may be sharing a continuously stoned existence. In that case, avoiding cannabis before a particular lovemaking session would be so unusual that it would become an issue in itself, creating more of a problem than anything else that may have developed. But again, if you’re living stoned, you already knew that.

The only other problem with cannabis is that it drops the blood sugar way down, causing phenomenal hunger and increasing the likelihood that your man will get cold or scared rather than turned on. It may also make your hands cold enough to shock his skin. All you can do is make sure you’re in a very warm place and have some good dark chocolate on hand to satisfy the munchies. The chocolate will raise your blood sugar, keeping your hands pleasantly warm; it will raise your partner’s blood sugar, keeping him from the shivers and the terrors; and it will act as an aphrodisiac in itself. The combination of cannabis and chocolate, incidentally, is great for sex even if you have no interest in female domination.

Positions, materials, knots, toys and safety

The position in which I most often tie a man is on his back with his arms extended to the sides. Almost always, he’s on a wide bed, and I tie his wrists to its legs—the pair near the head end. Occasionally, outdoors, I’ve tied a man in this position between two trees.

I don’t normally restrain a man’s legs. Unless he’s unusually large, strong or flexible, tying his arms is enough to keep him from going anywhere or doing anything. Tying his legs is even counterproductive. When he comes, I want it to be spectacular. I like to see him dig in his heels, lift his bottom, and thrust his hips. He can’t do that very well if his legs are tied. If I continue to stimulate him when he’s run dry and needs me to stop, I want him to be able to squirm and thrash about, trying to pull away. It affirms my power over him. Most important, I want his orgasm to overwhelm him, and if I choose to play with his sensitivity afterward, I want that to overwhelm him too. If his legs are tied, he can maintain some measure of composure by straining against the bonds and concentrating on the act of straining. If I leave them loose, he can’t do that; he gets completely caught up in whatever sensations I inflict on him.

Sometimes I put a man in that position and then decide I want to watch him masturbate while he’s tied. It wouldn’t do to simply release one wrist; that would be the same as untying him completely. Instead I tie his ankles to the nearest legs of the bed, not so tightly as to cause discomfort but tightly enough, then untie his more skilled hand. If I feel the need to discourage him from trying to free himself, I tie the hand to the same leg of the bed as his ankle, leaving enough slack so he can reach his cock but not his opposite wrist.

Sometimes I tie a man’s wrists together behind his back without tying him to anything.

Occasionally I tie a man’s wrists together in front of him, then tie them to something overhead so that he’s standing with his arms extended upward. Usually I use a hook that’s screwed into one of the studs that support my ceiling. When I’m not using the hook for bondage, it supports a potted plant in a hanging basket.

If you try such a thing there are a couple of things to beware of. First, use only an anchor that will bear a heavy load. A hook driven into wallboard alone won’t; an expansion bolt in plaster won’t; a shower head won’t. Second, the position can be so uncomfortable as to inhibit a man’s sexual responses; worse, it can dangerously interfere with the circulation in his hands after only a short time. Leave enough slack in the line between his wrists and the anchor so that his feet are under his shoulders, his elbows are somewhat bent, and the rest of his body is relaxed.

Any number of materials can be used for bondage: stockings, neckties, plastic wrap, rope and clothesline are some of the most common. Stockings and neckties usually have to be tied together and can’t be used for much else afterward. Plastic wrap should be food grade rather than industrial because the latter may contain poisons that can be absorbed through the skin; multiple layers are needed to ensure resistance to stretching and tearing, and it can’t be reused. Rope and clothesline are almost perfect, but can dig uncomfortably into a man’s wrists.

My favorite is tubular nylon webbing. I became acquainted with it when I took up rock climbing, and its suitability for bondage was immediately apparent. It’s like nylon rope, but flat. Then again, it’s different from flat webbing too. Flat webbing is truly flat and isn’t used much in climbing; it’s made into the belts and straps found on knapsacks and heavy-duty dollies. Tubular webbing is shaped like a drinking straw that’s been flattened. It’s softer and more flexible than flat webbing, and it’s readily available in stores that sell climbing gear, as well as by mail. It tends to be colorful and comes in a variety of widths; the most convenient for bondage is one inch. It’s easy to work with, and if tied correctly it’s quite comfortable and doesn’t cut into the skin at all.

I buy it in twelve-foot lengths. Twelve feet is long for most purposes, but just right for others, and if I have to cut someone out of it in an emergency, I still have a length I can use. When you buy it, it’s cut by being pulled across a red-hot wire. If you have to cut it yourself, it’s a good idea to use a hot knife so that the filaments melt together to prevent unraveling. Use a worthless knife that you’re never going to use for any other purpose, because heating will discolor it and you’ll never get it clean. Alternatively you can cut the webbing with a cold sharp knife or a pair of scissors and either let it unravel or try to seal the frayed end by holding it over a candle or stovetop burner. The end may or may not seal correctly, but it’s sure to release a cloud of noxious gas which will somehow aim itself directly at your nose. I think it’s still worth it; bondage is truly a labor of love.

If you want to use the sort of material that has to be tied but you don’t know much about knots, get a book on the subject, study it, and practice. Also study the descriptions I’m about to give of my own favorite knots and practice those. Use your own ankles to substitute for your man’s wrists.

You may be tempted to improvise knots rather than studying them. It won’t go well. For each purpose, you need a knot with certain characteristics. To bind a man’s wrist, for example, you’ll want a knot that will neither loosen nor tighten when pulled. You won’t be able to make it up as you go along; you have to know the knot. You also have to know your knots well enough to untie them. If you manage to invent a knot as you go, you won’t know what you did and you’ll have trouble getting it out. It may turn out to be so complex that it has to be cut. If you cut knots frequently, you’re likely to give up bondage because of the expense.

If I want to tie a man’s wrist, I take my twelve-foot length of webbing and circle the wrist three times, taking care that the webbing lies flat against his skin for all three go-rounds. The short end of the webbing is about a foot long; the long end, about nine feet. I hold the short end out straight and I tie a half hitch around it, very near the wrist, with the long end. This involves pulling nine feet of webbing through the loop that becomes the half hitch. I do the same thing a second time. The knot in the long end now has a definite shape and can slide freely along the short end. (If only the short end were held, the wrist would be in a noose; the knot would tighten when pulled. If the long end were pulled instead, the loops around the man’s wrist would loosen and the short end would eventually come through.) I slide the knot so that the wrist can’t come out of the webbing, but I don’t make the loops uncomfortably tight. Then I hold the long end of the webbing out straight and use the short end to tie a half hitch around it. That’s it. The knot will neither tighten nor loosen when pulled, and no part of it touches the man’s wrist—his skin touches only the soft loops of webbing.

When I’m ready to secure the wrist to the leg of the bed, the first thing I do is see to the man’s comfort by making sure that the knot lies in the natural path that the long end of the webbing will take from his wrist to the leg of the bed. His wrist shouldn’t be resting on the knot, nor should the knot be forced against his wrist; these conditions cause discomfort at first, then later correct themselves in such a way as to slacken the bonds.

When I’ve rotated the knot to the ideal position, I run the long end of the webbing just once around the leg of the bed and tie first one half hitch, then another. It’s not much of a knot, but it won’t come out unless untied on purpose. When I want to untie it, I can do it quickly. I take care to put the half hitches right up against the leg of the bed and not leave a big loop. Since two half hitches make a noose, a big loop will tighten to become a small loop when the man pulls, leaving him much more slack than I intended—perhaps even enough to get loose.

To tie a man down, it’s best to tie both wrists, then both legs of the bed. This lets him scratch itches for as long as possible. To untie him, it’s best to untie the legs of the bed first. The knots there come out more easily, and once you’ve undone one, he can help with the knots at his wrists.

If I have to tie a man to a bed that’s on a platform instead of legs (most motel beds are on platforms) I take a length of webbing and tie a bowline in each end. The bowline is a knot that includes a loop that will neither tighten nor loosen under tension. I run that length of webbing crosswise under the mattress about three quarters of the way toward the head of the bed, then use the protruding loops as if they were the legs of the bed.

The wooden frame of a futon can be fitted with eyebolts. If you sleep on a mattress on the floor, you can screw eyebolts or hooks into the wall at the level of the mattress. (Find the studs first!) If you own your own home and don’t value the floor, you can bolt cabinet handles to it. When you bring a new partner home for the first time, such fittings make for interesting conversation.

If I want to tie a man’s wrists together, I start by tying one of them as if I were going to tie it to the leg of a bed. I run the long end of the webbing back and forth between his wrists in a moderately tight figure eight, then wrap a few loops of webbing around the middle of the figure eight in the third dimension, and finally tie the loose end with a couple of half hitches.

There are alternatives to learning how to tie knots. One is plastic wrap, which sticks to itself so well that you don’t need good knots. Because multiple layers are needed, it’s best tied using techniques that rely on its tendency to cling, and such techniques are easy to improvise. (Quite the opposite of nylon webbing!) Since plastic wrap can’t be reused, you can cut it when you’re done and not feel wasteful; indeed you probably won’t be able to undo it any other way.

Another option is the purchase of ready-made restraints, either at your neighborhood adult boutique or by mail. I don’t use them. First, I don’t need to; I’m proficient with webbing. Second, webbing feels natural to me, probably because I handled so much of it during my rock climbing days, while ready-made restraints feel alien and would seem to be intruding into my lovemaking. Third, I don’t want to spook a new lover with hardware that’s likely to remind him of that mean dominatrix in the fetish magazines.

If you’re considering ready-made restraints because you find knots daunting, the first two of those reasons are irrelevant to you. The third will be irrelevant if you and your partner have been together a while; he’ll know that your interest in kink is new. It will also be irrelevant if kinky toys are consistent with the image you want.

I don’t recommend metal handcuffs. They can tighten painfully unless double locked and they’re uncomfortable to lie on. Neither do I recommend anything that the wearer can easily remove; many of the toys one finds in an adult boutique are just ornaments and suffer from this deficiency.

The one toy that’s most useful is an apparatus for tying your partner to a bed. Typically it consists of two wrist cuffs and a length of flat nylon webbing that can easily be anchored to the bed. The wrist cuffs are usually leather, often padded. They close with either a buckle or hook-and-loop tape. The closure is simple enough that the wearer could easily undo it if his hands weren’t separated. The cuffs attach to the band of webbing by means of a pair of quick-release fasteners. These fasteners take a variety of forms, but most commonly they resemble either the clip by which a leash is attached to a dog collar or the flexible plastic buckle on the waist strap of a knapsack. They’re secure only because they’re beyond the wearer’s reach when the apparatus is set up properly.

Another useful toy is a pair of soft handcuffs—again, usually leather and often padded. If soft handcuffs are to be secure, the closures and fasteners have to be much more tamper-proof than those on a tie-to-the-bed apparatus because anything on the wearer’s left wrist is within reach of his right hand. The really secure models rely on small padlocks.

I never put anything around a man’s neck while he’s bound, nor even allow anything with hazardous potential to remain there. (If he’s just seen a vampire movie, I hang his crucifix from my own neck.) I never leave him alone for more than a few seconds, nor do I allow a locked door to come between us.

I almost always have a pair of surgical scissors within reach—the kind with a blunt end. They’re sharp and they cut well, so if I have to release my partner quickly, as in case of fire, I can. The blunt end makes it possible to force the blade between his skin and whatever material he’s tied with, without cutting him. Such scissors are a necessity if you use plastic wrap; they’re superfluous if you use a ready-made apparatus with quick-release fasteners.

The most likely emergency is sudden illness. Digestive viruses strike with frightening speed. It’s unpleasant enough to have a bed messed up, but it would be devastating to have a man I care about choke to death on his vomit while I fumble with my knots. The police in my part of the world have encountered kink before and would accept my explanation, but I couldn’t. Safety first!

When I’ve settled into a stable relationship with a love slave, we agree on a word he can use to let me know he needs to be released immediately. Francesca gave Roy such a word after tying him down only half a dozen times; some couples who set out to experiment with bondage agree on a safeword before the first knot is tied. I wait longer because when I get involved in a new relationship, I like to keep my agenda hidden at first and reveal it one surprise at a time. Also, a man will normally use his safeword the first time a woman plays with the post-orgasmic sensitivity of his cock. By the third time, he’s learned he can take it—and even if he can’t, that’s not what the word is for. I wait until the man is emotionally committed to being my slave and knows that that’s what he wants more than anything else. That’s what I think is necessary to prevent him from using a safeword frivolously. But when we’ve got that far, I don’t wait longer; I make sure we have a word.

A safeword shouldn’t be one that might be uttered accidentally, such as mirror or birthday, nor, obviously, should it be something like no or stop; those would interfere with the natural flow of conversation. Madagascar or periwinkle would be good, but both require a degree of composure to pronounce. Rhubarb is just about perfect unless you or your partner eat it or grow it; likewise smallpox unless one of you is studying it.

Her appetite for fucking far exceeds what the yeast will allow; in fact it closely matches Roy’s. They each want sex about every other day.

Sex is an issue to Roy. He sees sex as ultimate acceptance and its refusal as ultimate rejection. If Francesca were to say no to him, he would at best sulk, complain he couldn’t sleep, and treat her for days as estranged from him. At worst, he’d leave her immediately, unalterably convinced that it was her own wish that he never return. Even if he were only to sulk, Francesca would be unbearably distressed; besides, she believes that withholding sex in marriage is wrong.

It wouldn’t do for Francesca to deny Roy; therefore she can’t enslave him. A woman who enslaves her man has to let him know that sex is available only on her terms; she has to use his desire for her as an incentive to obedience. Not Francesca and not Roy.

Now, Roy isn’t a bad man. In fact he’s a very good man. He’s totally devoted to Francesca, works hard, and never even gives another woman a lustful glance. He doesn’t drink, smoke, gamble or use hard drugs, but he still doesn’t begrudge Francesca her beer. He respects her individuality and isn’t at all domineering. He’s very nearly a perfect husband.

The only thing about him that ever seemed to need changing was his unfortunate tendency to aggravate Francesca’s infection. Even in that regard, he was never really villainous. He understands Francesca’s problem and expressed a willingness to have his sexual needs met by oral or manual stimulation, and a further willingness to meet her needs by gently licking her clit without stirring up the yeast or adding to the irritation.

Unfortunately Roy is powerfully built and easily gets carried away in the heat of a sexual encounter. Francesca gets carried away too, and finds it difficult to hold her determination to resist him. Far too often, he fucked her when they’d agreed he mustn’t. Even when he set out to satisfy her orally, he often let his enthusiasm overcome his judgment; he likes to insert a finger (or two, or three) into her vagina to massage her g-spot, which stirs up the yeast almost as much as fucking does.

It was a sad state of affairs, especially for so close a couple. Francesca often endured terrible discomfort while Roy tormented himself with commensurate guilt.

Eventually Francesca discussed the problem with me. I prescribed female domination much as the physicians of my youth prescribed penicillin, which was what she’d expected, and I gave her quite an extensive series of lectures on the subject. She described the problem of Roy’s rejection button, then went on to explain her view of sexual morality. It struck me odd, probably in much the same way that my own sexual morality strikes others odd, but I understood it and acknowledged that female domination wasn’t for her. I suggested an alternate approach—one that didn’t involve ever quite saying no to Roy, but that still employed many of my favorite techniques and offered their inherent advantages. Francesca liked it, tried it, made it work, and fine-tuned it until it met their needs perfectly.

The first night, when Roy had started into some heavy sexual foreplay, she asked him to wait a moment, got out of bed, and retrieved the two lengths of nylon webbing I’d given her.

“What’s that?”

“Nylon webbing, like mountain climbers use.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Tie your wrists to the legs of the bed, so I can make love to you and you won’t do anything that will stir up my yeast infection.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be careful.”

“Maybe. Sometimes it works that way. But if I tie you up every time you want to make love, you won’t have to be careful and I’ll get well enough so I can let you come inside me.”

He looked doubtful.

“I’ll make sure we have a good time.”

“Okay, I’ll try anything once.”

She tied his wrists and went back to kissing and caressing him, then knelt astraddle his face so he could tongue her clit. She found it easy to control the level of stimulation so as to get exactly what she needed. When he’d satisfied her perfectly, she turned her attention to his cock. She played with it, took it in her mouth, swallowed his come, then untied him.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No! You’re great!”

Two nights later, Roy was ready for more. Francesca was pretty sure she’s be well enough to fuck after just one more night’s rest, so she tied Roy down and simply made him a present of the same treatment.

The next night, Francesca was indeed well enough, and horny besides, and made the first move. They fucked, with Roy on top, and Francesca was left as satiated as ever, but Roy’s lust seemed to lack its accustomed urgency. Though that probably contributed to Francesca’s physical satisfaction by allowing him to keep going longer than usual, it still disappointed her.

Three days later, Francesca and I discussed Roy’s lack of enthusiasm. Was he already so jaded by bondage that he couldn’t turn on fully without it? Maybe, but we decided it was more likely he’d been drained by the previous night’s play and needed two days to recover.

Undaunted, Francesca undertook to expand her repertoire of techniques. The fourth time she tied Roy down, she made him come using the two-handed technique that focuses on the frenum and corona, and she kept up the stimulation until he started to squirm and tried to pull away.

“Oh! You can’t stop till I let you.” She let go. “That will be fun to play with.”

“Wow!” Nothing more.

She untied him.

Two nights later, she was ready to fuck and she let him know. They went at it with Roy on top. He was enthusiastic as ever, not jaded at all.

The next time he was horny, she tied him again. She used the same two-handed technique and decided to see how long he could take it. After he came, he squirmed, tried to pull away, started to whimper, and finally realized that it wasn’t going to end until he admitted to his woman that she could be too much for him.

“Let me stop!”

She released his cock, bent down, and gave his nipple a quick going over with her tongue. His scream was just barely controlled.

“I didn’t know you are so sensitive. It makes you so much fun to play with.”

“You’re torturing me.”

“No I’m not. And you don’t look like someone who has been tortured.”

She untied him and they cuddled and slept.

Two days later he was horny, but apprehensive about letting her tie him down.

“I’m afraid you’re going to torture me again.”

“I never torture you.”

“It hurts when you keep playing with me after I’m done coming.”

“I don’t believe you. You just can’t stop till I let you and you worry when you have no control.”

“Could you just not do it like that?”

“I don’t know.” I like it, just like you like to keep massaging my g-spot so I can’t stop. Besides, I never turn you down. You can let me have some fun.”

“Please!”

“I’ll tell you what. I won’t make you keep coming tonight, but I won’t promise for next time.”

She tied him down, had him eat her, and went to work on his cock. She started with the two-handed technique, then changed over to brushing one hand lightly over the frenum. His cock rose repeatedly to press against her palm, and she exclaimed her delight at its response as she kept rubbing. Finally his breathing turned to panting and his cock rose with the stiffness of impending orgasm. She continued rubbing it until the first momentary relaxation of his muscles let it drop to the level of his pubic mound, then she quickly pulled her hand away.

“What I get to see!”

His cock stiffened and rose again, splashing his chest.

“Oh, nooooo!” His cock plopped down again, then bounced back up and spurted a second time.

Again. And again. And yet again. And a few more little twitches after that.

When it finally came to rest, she contemplated his shamefaced demeanor and decided there was nothing to do but confront the obvious.

“You must be so embarrassed!”

“Oh, wow! You know it!”

“I’ll bet it will turn you on all day tomorrow, when you remember that, and think I may do it again.”

“Oh, wow!”

She untied him. He needed to be held. It made her feel loved. It made her aware of the intensity of her love for him.

I had coached Francesca in detail on that technique and its probable effect. It’s one of my favorites, and men find it embarrassing in the extreme.

If a man comes with nothing holding his cock, it bounces obscenely with each contraction of his ejaculatory muscles; and if his hands are tied out of the way, there’s nothing he can do about it. As each contraction begins, he feels and sees his cock stiffen and rise an inch or two. As it rises it spurts. A thrill of pleasure runs through him, accompanied by a rush of embarrassment at knowing that the woman next to him is watching him with a distinctly feminine mix of curiosity and amusement. When his muscles relax, his cock falls against his lower belly with a wet slap. It all unfolds for him in slow motion because the upward and downward movements of his cock seem to add to the time taken by each contraction. They don’t really, and they might not even seem to if he weren’t so exquisitely aware of the female attention focused on him, but the attention is there and each contraction becomes a long, slow exploration of the depths of sexual embarrassment.

The technique has a useful tuning knob that few techniques do. The way Francesca did it that first time with Roy, the man’s orgasm decays quickly. The number of contractions is relatively small and the amount of fluid expelled by each contraction (beginning with the third) is less than it would be if stimulation were continued. The result is that the seminal vesicles aren’t drained to the usual degree, so it’s likely to take less time until the man gets horny again.

You have the option, though, of making the orgasm last longer, thereby emptying the seminal vesicles more completely. Just stimulate some area of the man’s body that’s erotically sensitive—a nipple, perhaps, or his scrotum—and he’ll keep coming until he’s drained. It will seem like an eternity to him. He won’t keep coming after he’s drained, as when stimulation of the frenum and corona is continued, but it will still be quite a show.

Francesca took every opportunity the next day to tease Roy in little ways, reminding him what she’d seen and how it embarrassed him. She could see that it turned him on. By the time the day’s work was done, he obviously needed her. Since she was well enough, and half crazed with lust herself, she invited him to fuck her. He accepted eagerly and did his part with great enthusiasm.

I’m sure a number of factors conspired to make Roy so much more enthusiastic after only a day’s recovery than he’d been the previous time: he hadn’t been drained as thoroughly; his recollection of the previous night’s embarrassment excited him; Francesca’s continued teasing added to that excitement; and he felt that a missionary fuck would restore, if only symbolically, the balance of power in their sexual relationship.

The next night, in a calmer mood, Roy told Francesca they needed to talk about the weird sex they were having. He focused on her propensity for torturing him, but it was obvious that that was only a small part of what was troubling him. She told him that what they were doing made it possible to keep her illness under control. Besides, she said, she’d taken a liking to it and didn’t want to stop.

He acknowledged what was really bothering him: He felt that this new style of lovemaking was perverted and he was afraid Francesca would lose respect for him if he continued to go along with it. She assured him that what they were doing was a perfectly reasonable adaptation to their circumstances, that she appreciated his help in dealing with the infection, that his allowing her to tie him up made her feel loved and trusted, and that it intensified her love for him.

“Remember the other night, when you were so embarrassed by the way I watched you come, and you needed me to hold you after I untied you? Holding you like that was such a loving feeling, like people who have been married so long usually don’t get.”

Roy didn’t try to dispute that, but took issue with the propriety of a style of lovemaking that involves such great embarrassment. She pointed out that it turned him on, and he made a face.

“Look, we have both found that being embarrassed turns you on. We would be stupid to waste it. We have been together a long time. We love each other. We know we can trust each other. Will our marriage be happier if I don’t make love to you a way I like, and you refuse to enjoy something that turns you on like when you were a kid?”

It was a convincing argument, but that’s not why Roy bought it. He bought it because it was reassuring. It promised him a safe and loving environment in which he would be accepted for the man he’d just discovered he was, and in which he could freely enjoy being that man.

Francesca chased the last bit of doubt from Roy’s mind by giving him a magic word that he could use if her tortures got to be too much for him—a word that would let her know that he needed her to stop immediately. He found that reassuring too. It made her tortures less worrisome, though I’m sure they haven’t become any easier to take. And he’s never actually used the word to stop her.

Eventually there came a day when Francesca was ready for a good fuck and hadn’t got around to telling Roy before he made his own need known to her. She decided to complicate his expectations by tying him down in her usual fashion and fucking him from above.

“This is neat!” she said as she mounted him for the first time ever. “You get to be inside me and I get to be on top.”

Their sex life settled into a routine, but certainly not so dull a routine as most couples live with. When Francesca is horny and well enough to fuck, and Roy hasn’t made the first move, she’ll do so herself and they’ll wind up fucking with Roy on top. He’s figured this out, and since it’s still his favorite way of making love, he tries not to make the first move unless he’s too horny to sleep. If Francesca is ready and Roy makes the first move, she’ll sometimes let him fuck her the same way, but other times she’ll tie him down and get on top.

If she’s not well enough to fuck, and doesn’t expect to be well enough the next night either, and he makes advances, she’ll tie him down, have him eat her if she’s horny, and then bring him off. Sometimes she plays with his cock or eats him just until he’s comfortably done coming. Sometimes she plays with his cock way too long. Sometimes she lets go of it when he reaches the point of no return and plays with his nipple. Sometimes she lets go and just watches. That’s what she always does when she expects to be ready the next night.

She’s determined to keep him from figuring out that part of the pattern. If he were to know that she’s going to be ready on a certain night, he would wait for her to make the first move, eliminating the possibility of his being tied down for their fuck. For that reason, she mixes up the things she does, and he never knows what to expect. If she uses her mouth, it doesn’t mean she’ll still be using it when he comes; if she uses two hands, it doesn’t mean she won’t let go when he reaches the point of no return. It excites him to consider the possibilities as she brings him closer and closer to the edge.

They’re a very happy couple. Their one big problem is solved, they both get all the sex they need and still aren’t blasé about it, and most impressive of all, they’re still in love even though they’ve been through years and years of marriage.

The advantages men find in sexual slavery are diverse, and the important ones vary from one man to another. Let’s look at some of the most common.

Sexual excitement

The most obvious advantage of sexual slavery is that it’s tremendously exciting.

After a while, a man in an ordinary relationship becomes sexually bored with his partner and comes to regard lovemaking as more duty than pleasure. If he’s not committed to the relationship, he seeks a new and therefore more exciting partner, then repeats the pattern until he makes a commitment before getting bored. When he gets bored with a partner to whom he’s committed, he stops making love. If his libido was weak to begin with, he becomes impotent. More commonly, he delivers brief, mechanical sexual performances devoid of emotion.

Many women blame themselves when this happens. Some blame their partners. In actuality, blame is inappropriate. Men are wired to lose interest in a partner who’s always available. They can’t help it. Fortunately they’re also wired to turn on to the techniques of female domination; they can’t help that either. And the power of these techniques to excite is far greater than the tendency of monogamy to bore. If your man can’t have you whenever he wants, if he gets to experience that yummy little thrill only on your terms, boredom never sets in. He remains always a bit insecure, always eager to please you, always horny for you.

A love slave spends much of his time in a state of sexual arousal. He may find this frustrating at times, but always exciting and never boring. I’ve heard of two love slaves in their seventies who were vigorously potent, and one of them had given up on sex in a conventional relationship fifteen years earlier, believing he was too old.

A particularly introspective man might appreciate this, as might a man who has been rescued from sexual boredom without a change of partner, but a man of ordinary self-awareness who is sexually enslaved early in a relationship will likely attribute his state of continuous arousal to his lover’s attractiveness alone. And so much the better for her!

Love

Like sexual excitement, being in love is a delicious feeling. Men, control freaks that the are, rarely seek it; they seek sexual flings instead. Nevertheless men do fall in love early in their relationships and feel a loss when they assert dominion over their partners and the feeling goes away. Eventually a man reaches a point in his life where he becomes aware that he’s no longer in love with the woman he married and, unless he ends or at least risks his marriage, he’s doomed to live out his days without ever experiencing that feeling again. Grim.

Female domination saves a man from that. A love slave is, first and foremost, in love with his partner, and the feeling doesn’t go away. Many factors contribute to this, among them the same insecurity that keeps him sexually excited, her sharing of his vulnerability with respect to the Loop, and his eidetic recollections of her teasing.

As with sexual excitement, only an uncommonly experienced and introspective man will understand that his enslavement is what makes him love his partner with such enduring intensity. The average man will be aware only of being in love. Both will be emotionally committed.

Intimacy

Men crave intimacy but fear it. Generally fear wins. A woman who sexually enslaves her lover can tip the balance so he can enjoy being known by her.

Early in a relationship, when a man is in love, he wants to share all his thoughts, feelings, fantasies, beliefs, hopes, dreams and fears. He rehearses what he’d like to say, but typically can bring himself to voice only a small fraction of what’s inside. He’s learned to keep it all to himself, and the learning is of a sort that’s difficult to overcome.

As the relationship matures, he feels obliged to control it. The necessity of confronting his partner as an adversary when they have differences (for that’s how he sees it!) now makes self-disclosure impossible. The enemy might learn something she could use against him. This is war, and he has to win—has to expand and consolidate his control.

From her point of view, the most appealing aspects of his personality have disappeared behind an impenetrable wall. From his point of view, he’s involved in a relationship recognized as the ultimate in intimacy by his friends, colleagues, church and state, and he’s emotionally isolated.

Sexual slavery makes it easier for a man to talk openly with his partner about matters of emotional significance. It does this in several ways.

If she uses her sexual power to take control of all aspects of the relationship, making whatever decisions there are to be made, he doesn’t have to be ready for battle. There isn’t going to be a battle, so there’s no tactical disadvantage in having a history of intimacy.

If she considers his needs in making her decisions—and she would be foolish not to—he’ll learn that it’s in his best interest to let her know what those needs are. He’ll learn to prioritize them honestly as well. Some things matter to him a great deal, others only a little. There are preferences he might insist upon in an ordinary relationship that aren’t his at all, but represent instead what he thinks he owes his family or what he hopes will impress his buddies. If she considers his stated needs in good faith, her decisions will suit him best if he’s been honest with her. Intimate self-disclosure thus becomes a way of getting what he needs and wants.

The Loop, by being a significant vulnerability he can’t help but share, gets him accustomed to being intimately known. Other secrets no longer seem so dark as to be worth hiding. In time, he learns his partner isn’t dangerous and he gets comfortable enough to talk openly about anything. Eventually he realizes she knows him quite well and loves him for who he is, rather than for the image he was trying to project when they met or for some utilitarian advantage. That’s a truly exhilarating high—one that the conventionally dominant man will never reach.

Because he’s in love, he wants to share his thoughts, feelings, fantasies, beliefs, hopes, dreams and fears, just as at the beginning of a conventional relationship. And the love inspired by sexual slavery lasts, so he actually has a chance of communicating it all, then going on to share the changes that come with maturity and age. Happily ever after.

Escape from responsibility

Responsibility is strenuous. Some men, particularly those in high-pressure jobs that require them to make decisions that have profound effects on the lives of others, carry far more than is good for them. Such a man often feels relieved if his woman takes control of their relationship and assumes all responsibility for the part of his life that she shares.

Permission to reject overwork

Some men, once married, spend too much of their lives working and too little at home. They do it partly because it’s a socially acceptable way to avoid the terrors of intimacy, partly because they believe their wives value the financial rewards of their industry above their companionship. A few, sadly, are right. Most are wrong but refuse to change their ways no matter how their wives beg. A woman who sexually enslaves her husband is in a position to require that he spend a reasonable amount of time at home. If she states a willingness to accept the resultant decrease in his income, he has no choice but to believe her. He’s almost always happy with the results.

Motivation

By way of contrast, there are men who can’t motivate themselves as they would like; they find it useful to have their partners oversee their endeavors, spurring them on with sexual rewards and punishments. I’ve known women who used the power of their femininity to push their men through a program of weight loss, a course of study leading to a master’s degree, training for a marathon, and the completion of a book of photographic essays. The men themselves chose their respective goals and were happy for the motivational assistance their partners gave them, though they grumbled a bit along the way.

This sort of arrangement has an extreme form, considerably darker. I’ve known two women whose husbands developed gambling addictions so severe and damaging, it seemed suicide was the only way out. When each of these men hit bottom, his wife scraped him up, sexually enslaved him, and used the leverage that that gave her to pull him back to a semblance of sanity. The men seemed as happy as those who chose their own goals, if only because they weren’t abandoned to financial ruin and social disgrace when they knew they deserved it. Indeed they grumbled less about their treatment, even though it was considerably harsher and they had no real choice but to accept it. Now back among the living, they could free themselves if they wanted to, but neither has tried.

Knowing what’s expected

A man in a conventional relationship is often troubled by the feeling that his partner is unjustifiably annoyed with him—that she blames him for neglecting something important to her, for somehow failing to meet her needs. But she hasn’t actually said that, and she certainly hasn’t given him a list of things he’s neglecting. Her rule seems to be, It’s no good if I have to tell you, and he suspects that she changes the secret desideratum whenever he comes close to identifying it. He finds this frustrating.

The relationship between a dominatrix and her love slave doesn’t work that way. She tells him clearly and truthfully what she needs, wants, and expects of him. He delivers it because he loves her. She thanks him. Simple and fair. Instead of feeling frustrated he feels appreciated.

Avoidance of performance anxiety

A man in a conventional relationship often falls into the worry that his partner will be horny when he’s not, and that she’ll react unpleasantly if he’s unable to fuck her on demand. This worry kills what little desire he might have had, setting up a loop that can lead to chronic impotence.

A love slave doesn’t have that problem—not unless his partner is foolish enough to demand sexual arousal from him. Instead he has the opposite problem—that he’ll be embarrassed by his inability to keep his arousal under control—and that mind-set precludes performance anxiety.

If she finds herself in desperate need of sexual satisfaction when he’s absolutely incapable of arousal, she can always have him eat her or finger her, warning him beforehand what he’s in for if he lets his cock get hard. Afterward she can congratulate him on his rare self control. I don’t recommend this because it gets him used to the possibility of sexual contact without arousal, but it does get her needs met without inducing performance anxiety.

Altered consciousness

Since time immemorial, we humans have tried to gain a perspective on our own nature and our role in the larger scheme of things. In pursuit of this goal, we’ve sought ways to escape ordinary reality, retaining just a vantage point from which to observe what happens to us—who we become—when the world goes weird. The aids most commonly employed to achieve such alteration of consciousness are botanicals such as marijuana and hashish, iboga and ayahuasca, peyote and magic mushrooms. Some people get comparable results from yoga or fasting; others from such pursuits as skiing, hang gliding, rock climbing or sailing.

Sexual slavery can do it too. It splits the personality the same way, into the objective observer and the kid taking the trip on the ragged edge of the impossible. The kid on the trip is out of control, can’t say no to his partner, can’t help turning on, can’t help loving her. The observer looks on in wonder. Wow! Is this really me? I never would have imagined it possible!

Dave was a man with whom I went climbing in Yosemite a few times one summer. He liked to lead, while I preferred the relative safety of seconding, and we were comfortable with climbs of the same length and difficulty, so we made a well-matched team. He said that what he liked about climbing was that the alien environment, the exertion and the risk brought back the person he used to be before he grew up—the boy exploring the world for the first time, the simple human being who had been born and who would some day die. We developed a strong mutual affection and a sexual relationship that expressed that affection.

Since we always had ropes and webbing at hand, our lovemaking was kinky from the start, and I quickly discovered that once Dave had been drained of cum, his cock would go into that wonderful state of sensitivity I’m so fond of. Just as quickly, Dave discovered how much I enjoy playing with that sensitivity, and what a tease I am. One evening, a couple of weeks after we had first made love, I tied him down in my usual fashion and wondered aloud whether, if I kept playing with him long enough, he’d get past the sensitivity and cum a second time. He told me he wouldn’t, that it would just hurt, and I told him I intended to find out. He pleaded with me not to, so I said that if it was going to be so terrible for him, he should just not let himself cum the first time and I’d quit trying after about twenty minutes; but if he came once—and I told him I knew he would—I was going to try for twice. Actually I didn’t expect to be able to make him cum twice; I wasn’t even going to make a genuine attempt. I just wanted to show him he couldn’t resist me and then make him squirm long enough so he’d make a serious effort to resist again next time.

I used both hands on his cock and occasionally bent down to suck his nipple. Soon he was at the edge of orgasm, looking into my eyes with an expression that begged me to stop.

“Georgeann, you’re really doing it to me!”

I felt his cock stiffen. I was about to say something, but—

“Georgeann, noooooooo!”

His hips lifted into the air and the first spurt went flying before he had quite finished his protest. He was still looking into my eyes. I couldn’t look away even to watch my toy.

“Georgeann, that’s me you’re seeing! O, my! That’s all me! You know me!”

It was all happening at once. He said it as he came, and he started to cry as he said it.

I started to cry too.

“It’s okay,” I said.

I continued stroking his cock for as long as I knew he really wanted it.

I let go.

“It’s okay,” I repeated.

Still crying, both of us.

“Beautiful man!”

I untied him as quickly as I could and we lay together and talked. He told me what I already knew: I had revealed, to Dave and to myself together, the same person he sought to know through his climbing—the real Dave, who had been born, who would die, who held on to life in the form of a little nubbin of rock when holding on was impossible but there was no alternative. By motivating him to resist his sexual responses, I drove a wedge between those aspects of his adult personality that thought they were capable of such resistance, and the real Dave, who wasn’t.

When he came, everything in him that had been trying to resist was swept away. All that was left was the male human being who couldn’t help but want to come all the way, couldn’t help but want to be completely known by the female human being who was making him happen. What made him cry wasn’t fear, wasn’t even embarrassment; it was just the beauty of the trip we were sharing, and the intensity of the sharing itself.

by Georgeann Cross

Some women are interested—maybe even more than interested—but they’re committed to relationships so nearly perfect as to discourage tampering. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Perhaps, but if your relationship is so solid as to be unbreakable, you won’t really be taking much of a risk; if your interest in female domination is strong, acting on it might be worthwhile. Maybe your partner even has fantasies of becoming your love slave. Perhaps when you met, he sensed that you’re the sort of woman who’s capable of enslaving him and that’s part of what attracted him to you. Of course it’s hard to be sure, but you might suspect it, especially if he gave you this book.

Women who try female domination usually do so out of either enthusiasm or desperation, sometimes both. Enthusiasm is simple—That’s for me! Lemme at him! Desperation is more common. A woman is committed to a relationship that her partner is making insufferable and she needs a way to overcome his stubborn refusal to change. Women who try female domination out of desperation are sometimes enthusiastic, but not always, and desperation is certainly nowhere near as good a predictor of success as enthusiasm. A woman who is desperate without being enthusiastic will often succeed if she still has some affection for her partner, likes sex, has the personal attributes that make an effective dominatrix, and is reasonably comfortable with both the idea and the techniques of female domination. A woman who has come to hate her partner, dislikes sex, feels there’s something unnatural about female domination, or is disgusted by the techniques of female domination, won’t succeed.

Unfortunately, though revulsion guarantees failure, enthusiasm doesn’t guarantee success. Enthusiasm makes success likely, but it’s possible for a woman to believe in female domination as an ideal, even fantasize having a love slave, yet still find the actual doing of it so alien to her nature that she can’t. What I’d like now is to invite you to assess yourself for the purpose of forming a realistic opinion of whether you could succeed at sexually enslaving a man. Perhaps the results will temper your enthusiasm; perhaps they’ll overcome your doubts if you’re unenthusiastic but desperate; perhaps they’ll reinforce your doubts; perhaps they’ll even reinforce your enthusiasm. What I’m hoping is that an objective personal inventory will help you overcome both the contagion of my own enthusiasm and the discouraging influence of society’s conventions, so that whether you decide to use my techniques or reject them, your choice will truly be right for you.

The first thing to consider is whether you’re constrained by a taboo that puts these techniques beyond your reach.

Let’s look at a couple of taboos.

Some women, even after twenty years of marriage, can’t walk around naked in their own homes. Can’t! Could such a woman use the power of her femininity to take control of her marriage? Maybe. It depends on what else she can and can’t do.

Here’s a taboo that’s more remote, not even sexual: Some women (and more men) can’t make an honest and wholehearted attempt to correctly pronounce a foreign language; they have to deform it into the sound system of their own. Taboo goes beyond reluctance. It’s absolute. It makes a behavior not just difficult but impossible. If you can’t use the techniques of female domination, you can’t. Sorry.

If no taboo prevents you from using the power of your femininity to control your man, there’s still the question of how you feel about it. Think about what I did to Patrick that Saturday afternoon and imagine doing the same.

If the idea sexually excites you, or even if it just seems like fun, female domination will very likely suit you.

If you would feel ridiculous—if the slightest difficulty would make you feel like a fool who should never have tried such a silly stunt, while a perfect performance would make you feel like an actress in a play by Georgeann Cross rather than a real woman in a real relationship—then you’re not ready. You may want to practice by doing other things that present the same sort of challenge. If you learn to handle them well, it’s likely that you’ll also be able to manage female domination.

If it would make you feel like a guard in a Nazi concentration camp and therefore bad, you’re probably bumping up against a dogma that’s lodged between your feelings and your perception of them. Try to work your way around the dogma. You may find it helpful to pay special attention to the autobiographical material in this book. I’m a dominatrix, but I’m no Nazi—not even close. As you get to know me, you’ll see where the differences lie.

If you have a strong need to be dominated, and playing the dominatrix would leave you with a terrible sense of loss at having foreclosed the possibility of getting that need satisfied, your choice is clear: go for what you need. The purpose of this book is to help other women (and their men!) develop relationships that will make them happy, not lure you into one that will make you miserable.

If the idea of playing with a man’s cock until he comes bores you—if it never interested you very much to begin with, and you’ve done it too many times with one man or another to whom you felt obligated, when you couldn’t bear to let him inside you—putting yourself in charge isn’t going to make it any less boring. Even if it’s obvious that you need to do something to take control of your relationship, that need won’t make up for your distaste. Your feelings will be apparent to your partner and negate the effect of your attempts to turn him on.

If you feel as I do that a man’s cock is just about the neatest plaything ever invented; if you can’t imagine ever getting tired of it; if you like the way it responds to your touch, the way your play opens your partner up to you, the spectacular show when he comes, the implicit affirmation that the power of your femininity is too great to resist and that that’s what makes it all happen, then you’ll probably derive even more pleasure from sharing aloud the understanding that this wonderful plaything is truly yours, that the power of your femininity really overwhelms him, that you make him come.

I haven’t covered the whole range, but you get the idea. If you honestly find female domination appealing, not just as a political ideal but as something to do, you’re off to the best possible start. Consider now whether you have the qualities that make it a realistic option.

Trustworthiness

One attribute that’s absolutely essential is trustworthiness. We can examine it in either positive or negative terms, and though I prefer the positive, we’ll start by looking at the negative.

If a man distrusts you, he’s not going to be your love slave, and he’ll distrust you if he has reason to suspect that you mean him harm. If he distrusts you, he certainly won’t let you tie him up (unless he’s in a suicidal depression) and, while you might not want to tie him up very often anyway, his acquiescence is symbolic of the degree to which he’s willing to give himself over to you. If you want to sexually enslave your lover but he doesn’t trust you, you’ll have to earn his trust or you can’t succeed. Coercion alone won’t work, at least not for any length of time. It’s certainly a useful tool for overcoming a man’s initial resistance, but it won’t hold him. True, a token level of coercion may always be necessary to keep your relationship from reverting to the conventional, but if your lover has any means of escape at all, the only way to keep him enslaved over the long haul is to lead him to the belief—his own belief!—that he’s best off as your love slave. He won’t believe that if he distrusts you.

Let’s look at the positive side now—at what you and your lover stand to gain if he trusts you without reservation. He’ll share his most secret thoughts and fantasies with you and love you for accepting them, as well as for using what he tells you to make your control over him all the more complete. He’ll regard you as a safe haven where he can be loved for himself without having to worry about the judgments of the world outside. When you make decisions for the both of you—the kind that men usually make so badly in conventional relationships—he won’t feel resentful because he’ll know you care for him and have his needs at heart. If you treat him lovingly and keep his secrets, he’ll respond with a level of devotion that’s rarely seen. He’ll try to do even more to meet your needs than you do to meet his.

Many times a man has told me, as we rested together after I’d teased him to exhaustion, “That was so embarrassing!”

My answer depends on my mood and on the effect I want to create.

“Mm-hm!”

“I know.”

“Neat!”

“Wait till you see what I do Saturday!”

Occasionally I answer more seriously. “I’m happy to be able to give you a safe place to enjoy it. Thank you for trusting me to know you like that.”

That sentiment is as much a part of me as the teasing is, and sometimes I feel the need to say it. It always brings a warm response, and the exchange affirms the caring and respect behind the kinky sex. It’s one of the benefits of trustworthiness.

Empathy

Another quality you need in fair measure is empathy, so you can read your lover’s feelings quickly and respond to them effectively. You’ll be teasing him a great deal, and you have to learn what kind of teasing turns him on, what kind is perceived as mean, what kind has to be avoided because it triggers the recollection of some childhood horror unique to him. You’ll make mistakes, and sometimes you’ll have to apologize for a hurt and administer emotional first aid. Women in general are good at this. The development of empathy is part of our basic training; we’ve always been expected to take responsibility for our relationships, even when we weren’t permitted to control them. If you skipped basic training though, and never made it up, and now find that you can’t always tell whether someone is laughing or crying, it will make for difficulties.

From a positive perspective, a high degree of empathy enables you to play the Loop perfectly. You’ll be able to gauge your partner’s responses accurately, you’ll know where his attention is focused, and you’ll always be sure of what to do and say. Empathy will also make your lovemaking more spiritually rewarding; you’ll be able to read not only the more obvious of your partner’s responses, but his every fleeting emotion. And you’ll know that each one is something that you caused—a gift of feeling from you to him, perhaps exquisitely subtle and complex, made possible by the power of your femininity.

How empathetic are you? If empathy is alien to your nature, please hesitate, at least, before proceeding. If, on the other hand, you’re Empathy Personified, a relationship that you control should be most gratifying to both you and your man.

The ability to communicate effectively

A dominatrix has to be able to communicate well. You’ll be aiming to produce a certain psychological effect in your lover, and this effect is achieved almost entirely by a combination of speech, facial expression and posture. If you’re to succeed, you have to speak well, mug well, and carry yourself well. If you talk in a monotone, if there are words you can’t bring yourself to utter, if your face has the blank look appropriate to a high-stakes poker game, if you carry yourself as though you’re waiting in line to be guillotined, then you’re going to have problems in any relationship and lots of problems in one that you try to control sexually.

If you’re to feed the Loop, you have to be able to tell your man what you’re going to do to him, exclaim over the reactions of his body, and leave no doubt that you know what he’s feeling. If you want him to know that he’s safe with you—that you accept him for the person he is—you have to say the words. Whatever you tell him will be more believable if your tone matches the content of your message, and all your speech will be more effective if it’s well-modulated.

Your face is also a means of communication. Its expression can convey love, curiosity, determination, enthusiasm, and a host of other feelings. If you know how to control it you’ll accomplish a great deal.

Your posture can project confidence or betray fear. It can express lust, boredom or hostility. Adjust it purposefully and the message your lover gets will be the message you intend.

As you take control of the nonsexual aspects of your relationship, you’ll have to let your partner know what you want and need from him, what he must and mustn’t do. If you fail to do this clearly, then punish him for misunderstanding you, he’ll develop resentments that will undermine the relationship.

Consider how well you communicate. Do people often misunderstand you or misread your mood when you think you’re being straightforward? read you too well when you’re trying to deceive? If so, it might be a good idea to take a couple of courses in communication and acting at your local community college before you try the role of dominatrix. If you already communicate effectively and know it, you’re all set to go.

The ability to act strategically

To take control of a relationship, it’s necessary to act strategically. To maintain control of a relationship it’s necessary to continue acting strategically. You need to gather and remember information about your man, implement long-term plans without arousing suspicion, and generally do the right thing at the right time.

Let’s look at some of the preparation that went into my afternoon with Patrick.

During our first two months together, I learned his bowel schedule. When I tied him to the bed, I knew he could comfortably stay put for as long as I might need.

Until that day, I took care never even to mention any form of lovemaking except fucking. That created a context in which he was virtually certain to be embarrassed at having me bring him off by hand while I watched—and not just a little! It also ensured that he would find the varied sex play of the following months exotic and exciting.

The second time we fucked, I got on top. I wanted to see how he liked it, and I found he liked it just fine.

I began our fifth session by telling him I was going to tie him to the bed and fuck him. He couldn’t feign skepticism, because he knew from experience that I could manage the female superior position. Happily, he didn’t argue, panic or ask whether I’m into whips.

It was on that occasion that I first advised him to empty his bladder before I tied him. There are three reasons I bother with this. First, it’s intimate, it shows that I’m comfortable discussing so personal a detail, and it invites him to be comfortable initiating such discussions with me. Second, it ensures that for as long a time as possible, he won’t be distracted by a full bladder. Third, it shows that I’m concerned for his comfort, from which I hope he’ll infer that I’ll treat him well while he’s tied.

I didn’t pull any surprises, just tried to gauge his reaction to the experience. It was all I had hoped for. He was excited in the extreme, he couldn’t take his eyes off me, and his orgasm was the most intense we’d yet shared.

The eighth time we fucked, I tied him again. When he came, I continued thrusting my hips a little longer than I had previously. I kept it up just long enough that he started to squirm but not long enough to make him suspect I was doing it on purpose. That’s how I learned he was one of those men who need the stimulation stopped when they run dry. I found out without letting him know I was interested and without having to make him come by hand before I was ready.

I tied him yet again for our tenth fuck and had him start by eating me so he wouldn’t find it unusual in the future. I didn’t do anything else that could have struck him odd, and I certainly didn’t make him squirm again. The next two times, he was on top and of course not tied.

Ask yourself whether you can manage this sort of thing. Are you a natural spy? Do you have the patience to time your moves strategically? If so, you’ll have much more fun with female domination than if not, and most everything you try will succeed.

A talent for teasing

Because of the nature of the Loop, you’ll find female domination easier if you have a natural talent for sexual teasing. Teasing can probably be learned, and ordinary skill can certainly be perfected to the level of an art, but natural talent makes everything easier.

There aren’t any objective criteria by which you can gauge your talent for teasing, but every woman with whom I’ve discussed the matter knew whether she had it. Some who knew they had the talent had a way of using it that was too mean to be sexy, but that’s a different issue.

Ask yourself whether you’re a natural tease. If you are, you have much of what you’ll need. If not, perhaps you’ll pick up enough pointers here to do reasonably well. If teasing is bad… well, give it another look. Maybe, when you’ve read further, you’ll decide it’s okay.

Attractiveness

What about attractiveness? There’s no such attribute. Every woman is attractive to some men and repulsive to some. A man won’t become your love slave unless you turn him on, so if you’re looking for a man and you know you’re going to want to enslave him, choose one who finds you irresistible.

If you’re already committed to a relationship, your attractiveness to your partner becomes very much like an attribute; it’s what you have to work with. Indeed it becomes an essential attribute. You can’t enslave a man who won’t turn on to you. But that doesn’t mean that just because your man doesn’t get instantly hard at the sight of your body, you should give up without trying. We’ll explore what it does mean later, when we discuss the differences between committed relationships and uncommitted ones.

Confidence

After you’ve considered all the other traits that make an effective dominatrix (or better yet, after you’ve read this book all the way through) there’s one more question to ask: Can I really pull this off?

Confidence at this point reflects a belief, based on objective consideration of your other qualities, that female domination is for you. Confidence is also an asset in itself, making you more difficult to resist. If you’re obviously confident, your lover won’t try to rebuff you with a hostile or impassive front. He’ll know it won’t work. He’ll know that you know that the power of your femininity is too much for him—that sooner or later he’ll have to submit. It’s a loop that feeds his Loop. You succeed because you’re confident and you’re confident because you succeed, and he turns on because he’s embarrassed by his inability to keep from turning on.

Written by Georgeanne Cross

If you want to sexually enslave a man, it helps to start with a good understanding of the workings of male sexuality. In all likelihood you already have most of the knowledge you need: you’ve read other books, gathered a good deal of practical experience, and refined your skills as a lover. Still, there are a few things I feel I ought to mention—things that aren’t in those other books because their authors don’t share my perspective—things that may have escaped your notice as you accumulated your experience, perhaps because the men in your life were trying to avoid being known too intimately. I’m going to fill in what the other books leave out, and I’m going to try to do it without repeating too much of what they say.

Let’s start by considering a man in the most ordinary of sexual states. It’s been a while since his last orgasm, but not so long that he’s starting to get horny again; sex isn’t on his mind. Still, it’s been long enough that he’ll respond favorably to sexual stimulation; he won’t feel bothered or pressured by it; rather he’ll enjoy it and turn on.

Surrounding the neck of his bladder and the upper portion of his urethra is the prostate gland. It’s slowly producing one of several fluids that will be mixed together and pumped out the next time he ejaculates. The prostate is spongy (though firm) and the fluid it produces remains within it until it’s expelled. Another fluid is secreted by the testicles. This fluid carries sperm cells and, unless the man has had a vasectomy, travels through two tubes (the vasa deferentia) to a pair of reservoirs called the seminal vesicles, there to await the next earthquake. The seminal vesicles are located above the prostate and behind the bladder; their outlet passes through the prostate and into the portion of the urethra that the prostate surrounds. Besides storing fluid produced in the testicles, they secrete a fluid of their own. Over time they fill, pressure within them builds, and they distend. They’re drained only by ejaculation.

If the man encounters no sexual stimulation, the production of sexual secretions continues at its usual slow pace. When enough time has gone by, and enough pressure has built up in his seminal vesicles, the man starts having sexual feelings and fantasies. He’s horny—perhaps not extremely so, but definitely horny. What seems to happen (though it’s unproved by the scientific standards of the medical world) is that pressure in the seminal vesicles is felt as a need for sexual release, as lust.

If, instead of letting this happen by itself, you sexually excite the man, the process is speeded up. When he’s aroused, more fluid is produced in a shorter time and the seminal vesicles fill faster. Prolonged stimulation also leads to a feeling of congestion throughout the reproductive system and a dull ache in the testicles. The man becomes desperately horny, often in less than an hour, and he’ll do almost anything to have his lust satisfied. If he’s like most men, he’ll let you tie him up no matter what he fears you might have planned, just so it includes emptying those reservoirs.

If you stop stimulating him, perhaps because the demands of the real world separate you, and if he has things to do that take his mind off sex, the feeling of congestion and the ache will dissipate, but his seminal vesicles will still be full and he’ll respond readily to stimuli that are even vaguely sexual. If he sees a line drawing reminiscent of a nude woman, for example, he’ll feel a twinge of arousal before the cause registers in his consciousness. He’ll easily drift into sexual fantasy, which will cause another erection, accelerate again the overfilling of his seminal vesicles and, if continued for any length of time (as is likely), bring back the feeling of congestion and the ache.

Prolonged stimulation or fantasy also leads to the production of a clear lubricating fluid by Cowper’s glands, located near the base of the penis. This fluid doesn’t accumulate, but is secreted into the urethra and, if there’s enough of it, leaks out the tip of the penis without producing any sensation along the way.

Men are highly subject to arousal by psychological stimuli, including their own fantasies and the Loop. Almost none, though, can reach orgasm through psychological stimulation alone. Furthermore, men have few erogenous zones, and stimulation of these, though arousing, won’t induce orgasm. Orgasm is reliably brought on only by a specific form of stimulation of the penis.

Still, erogenous zones are fun to play with and therefore worth looking for. The common ones are the scrotum, the perineum, the anus and the nipples. The scrotum is best stimulated by lightly running a couple of fingers along its surface, parallel to the middle of the body, in either direction or both. If the perineum is erogenous the technique is the same, likewise the anus.

The effects of nipple stimulation vary greatly. Most men exhibit a strong erotic response to having their nipples played with by hand, sucked or licked. Some don’t respond at all. A few find any stimulation painful. One of my lovers could tolerate only the lightest licking, but found that erotic. At the other extreme are men who are aroused by having their nipples pinched, bitten or even clamped. Experimentation will let you know what works best on your man, and you’ll have a lot of fun finding out; just don’t start at the rough end of the spectrum or you may undermine your partner’s trust.

Though stimulation of erogenous areas other than the penis will almost never of itself induce orgasm, it may do so when combined with a level of penile stimulation that alone would be just as insufficient. If, for example, you’re fucking your man slowly and with short strokes—which you know from experience won’t make him come unless you keep it up for a long time—sucking his nipple at the same time might put him over the edge in seconds.

The penis is designed to be effectively stimulated to orgasm by friction with the vagina, but the details of that design aren’t at all simple. The penis is a large organ, and only two small parts of the surface have sufficient sexual sensitivity so that stimulation will reliably induce orgasm. One is the frenum, where the glans (or head) meets the undersurface of the shaft and seems to be split in two by a continuation of the slit in the tip. The other is the corona—the protruding ridge at the edge of the glans where it flares out from the upper surface of the shaft, diametrically opposite the frenum. During sexual intercourse, regardless of the position used, these two areas are stimulated by the walls of the vagina, and it’s that stimulation that precipitates the man’s orgasm. If you’re on top, you can control the intensity of the stimulation by varying the length and speed of your strokes and the tightness of your vaginal muscles.

From a physiologic point of view, it doesn’t matter whether you apply the stimulation with your vagina or your hand; stimulation of the frenum and corona induces orgasm, and does so reliably.

This is a different matter from the question of how a man likes his penis handled. That varies. One likes to be gripped tightly and pumped roughly, the skin dragged along to rub against the underlying tissue; another likes only a fingertip touch along the undersurface. For every gradation in between, there are men who like it. If I’m involved with a man, I try to learn his preference, but it doesn’t really matter because most of the stimulation I apply is psychological rather than physical. When I’m ready to make him come, one of my own favorite techniques will always work.

The most effective of these—reliable even when used on a man who’s only moderately horny—is to lightly massage the undersurface of the penis with one hand, brushing the frenum with each stroke and sometimes running the fingers over the scrotum, while lightly massaging the upper surface with the other, brushing the corona with each stroke. This approximates the stimulation his penis would receive in your vagina. Your hands may be synchronized or not, or synchronized some of the time, depending on how exotic you want to get.

Another technique—a more effective variant of Rena’s—is to position the lower segment of your thumb against the upper surface of the shaft, crosswise, just below the corona; wrap your index and middle fingers loosely around the shaft; then move your hand smoothly up and down so that with each stroke the thumb slides over the corona while the pads of the lower segments of the index and middle fingers slide over the frenum. Adding to the stimulation, the web of skin between your thumb and index finger will naturally tend to brush against the protruding ridge on one side of the glans, while your fingertips will brush the protruding ridge on the other. If you’re right-handed and the man is lying on his back, this technique is most easily practiced from his right; if you’re left-handed, from his left.

With either of these techniques, the lubricating fluid that the man secretes can become a nuisance. It dries partway and gets sticky, interfering with the free motion of your hand. This isn’t a problem if there’s too little of it to notice, or so much that it can’t dry, but most men produce just enough to be troublesome. There are two ways of dealing with it. You can squeeze it out of the urethra and wipe it away before it starts to dry, or you can use a lubricant that overwhelms it, such as mineral oil. (Mineral oil packaged as baby oil has a scent, even if the label says it doesn’t, that turns some men on and others off; there are very few to whom it does neither.) If stickum becomes a problem and you don’t want to use mineral oil, you can clean it up with a damp cloth or your tongue.

(This seems like a good opportunity to explain why I have so little to say about fellatio. I regard it as useful for just a few very specific purposes, such as cleaning up half-dried male lubricant or inducing an erection. Otherwise I avoid it because it limits communication: you can’t talk; you can’t see your lover’s face nor he yours; you can’t even get a good view of his cock.)

My third technique for inducing orgasm by hand is the least reliable. It works only on a man who is very horny and lying on his back, but it has two advantages, one of which is that the stickiness of drying lubricant doesn’t get in the way. What I do is rub my palm against the frenum and nearby portions of the underside of the penis. The motion of my hand, of course, is parallel to the axis of the penis, not crosswise. What makes this technique so appealing is that since the man’s cock isn’t held in place, its responses are put on display. At moments of particular excitement, its rigidity increases and it presses against my hand, which amuses me greatly and embarrasses my partner to the same degree, especially as I tease him about it. And there again we have the Loop.

As a man approaches orgasm, the muscles of his pelvic floor contract and his cock stiffens. If stimulation is withdrawn as this starts to happen, the man will usually, but not always, slip back from the edge; the muscles will relax and his cock will lose its extreme stiffness and become only ordinarily hard. If stimulation is continued, though, orgasm begins. The fluids stored in the prostate and seminal vesicles are pressed into the upper portion of the urethra. The man feels a tingling inside and knows he’s coming; he’s going to ejaculate and there’s no longer any way to prevent it. Semen starts flowing into the lower portion of the urethra—the part that runs from the base of the penis to the tip.

At some point the muscles of the pelvic floor relax for a fraction of a second, releasing the extreme stiffness of the man’s cock. Then they contract again, giving the urethra a hard squeeze. His cock stiffens again and spurts at the same time.

The pressing of the components of the ejaculate into the urethra continues until there’s nothing left to deliver or until the ejaculatory spasms end, whichever comes first. The ejaculatory spasms continue for some minimum number of spurts if stimulation stops immediately, or until stimulation is withdrawn (which may not be until long after the supply of fluid has been used up) or, in extreme cases, until exhaustion sets in. The spasms are spaced four fifths of a second apart. After the first spurt, the muscles of the pelvic floor relax again, exactly four fifths of a second after they did the first time; then they contract again, and a third stiffening of the man’s cock coincides with a second spurt four fifths of a second after the first.

If the man has been trying not to come, but loses control and feels the upper portion of his urethra start to fill, he can delay ejaculation only so long as he can keep the muscles of his pelvic floor contracted, holding off that first momentary relaxation. It won’t be very long. Sometimes he can do it long enough so that some semen traverses the entire length of the urethra and leaks out the tip of the penis before the first spurt, though that doesn’t signify a strong effort to hold back unless you know it’s unusual for that man. Once the muscles of the pelvic floor take that first little break, the spasms follow each other uncontrollably at intervals of four fifths of a second; the man can’t delay the second spurt as he can the first.

Each of the first few spurts causes the man an intense thrill of pleasure. It doesn’t matter how desperately he may have been trying not to come or why; he’ll still experience that thrill with each spurt. And (unless he’s both uncommonly inhibited and in a position to prevent continued stimulation) once the first spurt has overcome him, he can’t help but want to pump out the rest. This, too, happens regardless of how hard he was trying not to come, or for what reason. Say he got himself in a spot like that boy in Maryland, but he has more experience. He knows what might happen, and he fixes in his mind a determination to maintain control, to preserve some measure of dignity. First he tries not to come, and of course he fails. As his cock stiffens and he feels that tingle, he resolves to put on an air of detachment and remain as still as possible even as he ejaculates. With the first spurt, though, his resolve is obliterated. He arches his back and thrusts his hips, overwhelmed by a mad desire to do what he must, no matter how embarrassing. This desire is separate from the reflex contractions of his ejaculatory muscles and separate from the pleasure of each spurt. It takes possession of him completely, a primeval force that’s been around longer than fur or feathers, but which is still him, and more genuinely so than the complex personality it displaces.

Not only does a man’s attempt to hold back his orgasm fail to diminish its intensity, it actually makes it more powerful. It’s like building a bigger dam. When it finally bursts, everything in the path of the flood is devastated. If a man has been wanting an orgasm as if to scratch an itch, it might amount to little more than a sneeze in his penis; an orgasm that he’s been trying to resist will overwhelm him. His whole body will convulse; his emotions will go bonkers; his mind will be wiped. It’s something to see!

At some point during a man’s orgasm, fluid stops being pressed into the urethra. In some men, this ends the process of ejaculation, and continued stimulation of the frenum and corona has little or no effect. In most, though, it brings only a need to end the process of ejaculation, and continued stimulation keeps the reflex spasms going, accompanied by a feeling of distress at being unable to stop them.

Few women get the opportunity to observe this phenomenon; a man whose orgasm has gone on long enough is usually in a position to end the stimulation without making his partner aware of his vulnerability. Some men, though, become so sensitive that when they fuck, they need to pull out immediately after ejaculation; the continued pressure of the vaginal walls on the frenum and corona, even in the absence of motion, is too much to bear. If you’ve had such a lover, you’ve had an unusual opportunity to observe the male need to protect the penis from prolonged stimulation, though he might never have explained what was happening. (Men, as we’ve seen, tend to be secretive about their vulnerabilities, and there’s many a man who would rather leave you feeling puzzled and rejected by his hurry to put some distance between you than let you know that his cock is too sensitive to leave in your pussy.)

Most men don’t become quite that sensitive, but continued active stimulation of the frenum and corona causes them distress. You’ll see it if you’re fucking your man from above and you hold his wrists down, tighten your vaginal muscles, and continue thrusting after he’s come; or if you tie his arms away as I did Patrick’s and continue rubbing his frenum and corona with your hands after the spurting of fluid stops.

If you want to hold your man in this state—and I recommend that you do, at least occasionally—there are four things you should know. First, it can’t do any harm. The distress of continued stimulation isn’t pain (though some men may call it that) and it doesn’t reflect tissue damage—not even temporary damage. When you stop, your partner’s distress ends immediately, and that brings us to point two: When you stop, even for a few seconds, the ejaculatory spasms also stop. If you resume stimulation, it will have little or no effect, so don’t take a break until you’re sure you’re done.

Third, the stimulation you apply must be specifically to the frenum and corona. The nerves that end there are the only ones that reliably force continuation of the ejaculatory spasms; if you milk the shaft alone, the spasms will end, comfortably, when the supply of fluid runs out. (If your man is an exception, great! But don’t expect it.)

Fourth, your man’s cock itself will give you some help. You can feel the continuing spasms and use them to time the motion of your hands, which makes for a much more effective sort of stimulation than a random beat. And for as long as you keep the spasms going, the process of detumescence is slowed, giving you a convenient degree of resistance to rub against. Usually you can even continue fucking if you don’t give your partner clearance to pull out.

For a period of time after a man has an orgasm, he’s physically incapable of responding to sexual stimulation. The length of this period varies from one man to another, and isn’t always the same even for the same man. It tends to be shorter in younger men and ranges from seconds to hours. In my experience, five to twenty minutes is typical. During this time, a man has no sexual desire and is likely to find any attempt to stimulate him irritating, both physically and emotionally.

This refractory period is followed by a time during which arousal is physically possible, but stimulation is still likely to be perceived as an annoyance. The man just doesn’t want sex. Even if he’s tied down and normally finds you irresistible, you might not be able to make him come. If he isn’t tied down and you make advances, he’s likely to develop a severe attack of performance anxiety. He gets worried that your continued acceptance of him is dependent on his meeting your sexual demands of the moment, and that not being horny, he’ll fail. That worry kills whatever capacity to respond he may have had. Perhaps he starts a petty squabble so he can reject you over some silly issue of his own choosing rather than be rejected himself as sexually inadequate.

I’ve always taken care that my lovers don’t fall into this unpleasant state. My method is simple. I don’t attempt to arouse a man who isn’t ready for it. I’ll be affectionate. I’ll cuddle. I’ll let him know that I love him and that I appreciate his love for me. But I won’t lick his nipple. I won’t take hold of his cock. I won’t put my pussy in his face, or even suggest he play with it. I won’t do anything that says, I want sex now, until I know he’s ready.

My reason goes beyond a desire to save him from performance anxiety. I want my lover always to think of sex with me as something he craves, so I keep the supply at least a little behind the demand, sometimes way behind the demand. That keeps him in the habit of wanting me, and the possibility of not wanting me doesn’t enter his mind, even though I know there are times he doesn’t.

What would happen if, for example, I were to have him eat me when he was sexually satiated? He would experience the sight, smell and taste of my pussy objectively, as sexually neutral. I don’t want that to happen. I want him always to look forward to the opportunity to see, smell and taste me, and to find me a turn-on every time. I don’t want to give him one chance to be objective about my pussy because I don’t want him to learn how.

The obvious question is, What’s the good of having a love slave if you can’t use him as you please?

A simple answer is that I can use him as I please, but the relationship will go better and last longer if I’m considerate, realistic and sensible in my demands.

A more complete answer is that sexually enslaving my partner allows me to manage the relationship, and I can manage it better than he can, precisely because I know better than to use him without regard for his feelings. One of the reasons I advocate female domination is that most women, given the opportunity, manage their relationships better than men do. We take a more balanced approach. We’re more mindful of our partners’ needs and desires even while looking after our own. My respect for my lover’s need to rest from sex is an example of this. If I subjected him to sexual demands when he needed to be left alone, he would come to resent it, just as many women come to resent the ill-timed sexual demands of their men. A relationship controlled by a woman who fails to consider her man’s needs will deteriorate just as rapidly, into just as deep a state of misery, as a relationship controlled by a man who does the same. With power comes responsibility. Inevitably.