The Wicked Queen

First up, sorry it’s taken me so long to blog lately.  Work has been crazy, and more than that, my wife and I haven’t been able to arrange our schedules for some much needed administration of the five Ps.  I’ve been tired, frustrated, and desperately in need of some pain and domination in my life.  I have no idea how people who do this stuff over the web make it work — I need the real thing.  There’s simply no substitute for a blow across the ass, a good pegging, and a shower of piss.  And I’m not slated to get any of that until Thanksgiving, even though my wife and I have bought about a half dozen new toys of awful potential…  

But that’s not what I’m going to write about.  Today, I’m going to write about things from my childhood that made me what I am today, specifically, a submissive masochist who lets himself be dominated into total submission by a strong woman.

It all starts with the Wicked Queen.  Oh, you know who I’m talking about — Snow White’s stepmother.  The witch from Sleeping Beauty.  The  strong, powerful and evil woman in the fairytale.   She makes me hot.  I know, I know — Sleeping Beauty is the heroine.  Snow White’s the fairest of them all.  But there has always been something deep inside me which just collapses at the thought of some haughty and powerful woman, someone unapologetically wicked.    

The White Queen from “The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe,” and all of the sinful adolescent pleasures she would have represented if the bad kid of the clan had just been a few years older.  I don’t think the Turkish Delight he’d have gotten would have been quite the same if he’d been sixteen or so, if you know what I mean.  It would probably have involved leather.   

In my adolescent imagination, thrumming with an overdose of hormones and unfulfilled teenage lust and buried submissive fantasies, I was always fascinated by folks like the woodsman from Snow White, who the stepmother had such control over that he would do anything for her.  They never say what she did to gain his loyalty, his willingness to do bad things, but in my fevered imagination she seduced and dominated him into acquiescence. She took a normal man, perhaps even a good man, and broke him — did dark things to him, beat and pleasured and bound him until at the end of it, he begged her for more.  He was utterly, completely, hers. 

Sure, the story doesn’t come out and say that, but let’s be honest — my version is better.

 In my heart of hearts, that’s what I wanted — to be good, to be noble, to be strong, and then to be dominated and corrupted and pleasured until all that exists is the Wicked Queen, and her pleasure and her will and her control.  To be strong and then to see just how weak I am when she comes in and shows me what she can offer.      

I remember reading a book when I was younger, a fantasy novel where the young stalwart hero is in love with the haughty princess and the Wicked Queen of that series, she hypnotizes the princess and offers her to the hero.  Offers him riches and wealth and the girl of his dreams, and all it takes is a moment of weakness…I remember being hard as a rock while I read that scene in my bedroom at the age of 12 or so.  And I remember, in the back of my head, fantasizing of not holding fast like the stalwart hero, but giving in, crawling to the Wicked Queen, becoming her servant.   Just to drown in her power over me.  

If you want to know how my teenage submissive fantasies manifested themselves, it’s that way — through the Wicked Queen. 

My wife is my Wicked Queen, and it’s so much better because to everyone else, she’s good and nice and pure and sweet.  And when we get together, she’s cold and haughty and strong and harsh and just a little bit cruel in a beautiful way — she doesn’t flinch when she lays that belt across my ass, when she tears at my hair or covers me in her scent.   She knows I want to be weak for her, to just surrender and be controlled and hurt and utterly guided, with no room for decision, no room to say “no.”  Just obedience and pain and pleasure.  Wow, I really need to see my wife…