About B.J., Personal Submission, Being Greedy

Getting to Know Your Cookie through Hard Wax

Sometimes in a D/s relationship you get a little more than you ask for. This can happen when you’re exploring limits, or even in daily conversations. 

I tend to ask for a lot. 

Master says, I’m greedy. I am. I’ve come to accept this. It is part of me that will sometimes get me into an unpredictable position –like yesterday.

Before I get into yesterday though, you need a little backstory.

Since Master has been gone I haven’t waxed my cookie. It’s been about two months or so, and I have been wanting to get my own equipent to do at home hard wax. I want to be able to wax whenever I want, instead of dropping $100 at the waxing salon, I can spend $17 on a can of hard wax.

I was starting to feel like Austin Powers and asked if I could go and get the waxing equipment before my birthday (since that was what I had said I wanted for my birthday). Master prefers to view a naked cookie during our long distance chats so He abliged. I hadn’t gotten anything yet. 

Back to Yesterday

I had a simple task to do for Master when I got home. I was a little disappointed that His request was so mundane. Being the me that I am, I made it obvious I thought it was something else. Something more dynamic oriented. 

Well, be careful what you ask for.

First I got a fun task to make a video demonstrating my self-ties. I love playing with his ropes and was very excited. This is amazing and fun and I got giddy with the thoughts of being tied up, until I got the next message.

You can’t play with your kitten until you feel less like Austin Powers.

Wait, What?

No. I don’t like this. This wasn’t what I wanted. Damnit. Ok well, time to go to Sally’s Beauty. 

After spending less than I would have spent to get my coochie, lip, eyebrows and inner thigh waxed at the salon: I leave Sally’s ready to tackle my Austin Power’s situation. 

I was well informed, I had been waxed before and I had some directions in a box. What can possibly go wrong?


Did you know that hard wax has a magical time period where it needs to be pulled from the skin? 

Too early, and the wax is too hot and it just stretches and you get no hair out. Too late and the wax bonds with your skin in some crazy wax skin ritual that requires soap, baby oil, rubbing alcohol, eye of newt, and ground lizzard bones, to get it off.

Those last two I just made up, but they may have helped. I think Voodoo would have been better at removing the hard wax than what I did.

I was doing fine in my bikini line. Plugging along like it wasn’t even a thing.  It was actually less painful than the waxer lady. And I’m getting pretty cocky. I start applying thicker strips of wax.

You have to keep your skin taught to pull the hard wax off. That is easy to do on most parts of your cookie. Therefore, there were no problems.

Then I got to my labia majora.

Now I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to keep your labia skin tight and flat, but on me, bent over like a freaking pretzel, it was impossible. But instead of testing a small strip I did what my waxer used to do and put a huge strip going all the way down my right side.

This is where mistakes mere made. 

I started to rip the wax and I realize that the wax isn’t coming off. I’m getting some lift, but no rip. 

What the hell? 

Oh great, my labia are like fucking elastic. There is nothing I can do to keep the skin tight enough to quickly rip the wax off.

I try one thing after another, and slowly I get most of the wax and hair off of my labia. But about 3 minutes into this catastrophe, there is a small square of wax stuck like cement to the top of my labia. Like stuck. Like stuck stuck. 


There is hard wax stuck to my labia and it doesn’t matter how fucking hard I pull.

Time to Dr. Google the shit out of this.

Nope. I shouldn’t have done that either. All that comes up are horror stories about how women have ripped their labia while waxing their cookies. WHAT THE LITERAL FUCK? How is that even in the realm of possibilities? 

That shouldn’t fucking happen. 

Aparently, the skin on your outer labia is very thin and can rip very easily. So now, not only is there fucking hard wax stuck to my labia, but I can rip open my poontangs wings in the process of getting it off? I like my poontang, wings and all. Maybe I should have just not masturbated ever again. I’m not sure all of this is worth it. 

None of these thoughts magically get the wax off of my pussy. I still have to get the hard wax off of my poonani. And I’m beginning to imagine the conversation at the Emergency Room as my anxiety peaks. Because either:

A. I rip my labia.


B. I cannot get the wax off and have to have some medical grade solvent applied to my pussy.

Must NOT go to ER!

I don’t have any baby oil, but I have massage oil, and I have soap. The wax is stuck to my skin and I have to get it off. So I mix up some soap and some massage oil and I start to work it arond this little square of wax. 


It’s working. But it’s also ripping each hair out one at a time in the slowest way possible. As I pry the wax off my skin each hair is ripped from the follicle and it feels like pulling out a splinter. It is slow and painful. My follicles rebel with blood and I pray I’m not ripping or tearing my labia. 

At the end of it I am drenched in sweat. My poor labia is the color of a stop sign. I look down and realize, to my absolute horror, I have another labia. 

I wonder if I could pull off the pirate pussy look?

I had to take a break. There is no way on God’s green earth I could do anything like that again, for at least another hour. I wish I could have a glass of wine, but I’m not to drink while Master is gone. So, I just have to wait for my nerves to settle.

It’s only a two inch by one inch strip of hair and the back door left. I can do this. 

I start more modest. Small strips, working my way inward. It seems to be going well and now I only have the inside of my outer labia left. Here comes my ego, I got this. 

I slap of the wax and have the same fucking problem!!! NO! WHYYYYYYYYYYY?! 

I did everything right. I didn’t wait too long, I didn’t put on a super wide strip. Why is the wax stuck? It’s at the top of my labia, like the exact spot that it got stuck last time. 

Fuck. My. Life. 

I know what to do this time so it only takes me about 5-minutes to get the wax off. But it is not any less excruciating. 

Now my cookie looks like an angry lobster claw.

Time for the back door. For which, I immediately wax my cheeks together. I lost my grip on my booty and slap, now there is wax on both sides of my rosebud. Luckily none of the wax made onto my rosebud. 

I start laughing, because at this point, 2-hours into my waxing escapade, my full Brazilian wax has turned into a calamity of errors. 

Everything that can go wrong has gone wrong. And now I have to figure out how to unglue my butt cheeks together before the fucking wax sticks to my butt like it did to my poor pussy lips. 

Lucky for me it came off, relatively easily. None the worse for the wear. Though it needs a few more strips to get any actual hair off. 

Now, my cookie looks like it’s received a beating. It needs lots of love and cuddles and cream and oils. 

I survived. I have to go get a razor to scrape the wax off of my tile. But I no longer feel like Austin Powers. 

I am no esthetician. Mad props to the estheticians out there. They know the tricks of the labia waxing that I need to know. Because I’m not looking forward to my next full Brazilian wax. 

At least I can masturbate again, when my pussy isn’t quite so tender. I have a whole new knowledge of my anatomy. I understand just how elastic my outer labia are. I also know they are delicate little protectors of my vagina. 

Moral of the story: when you’re greedy, you get hard wax stuck to your cunt and get to contemplate emergency room visits. 

About B.J., Personal Submission

Empty Nights

Silence can be louder than a train.

As I sit in His house at night, alone, the silence is deafening.

I miss the noise we make together. The slaps, the moans, the muffled begging. There was never silence until sleep carried me away. Usually, on top of a cloud of sweet submissive bliss. 

I long for that noise. There is a unique quality to the snap of leather against flesh. A crisp note of tension and release carried in that simple stroke. 

Then the symphony that follows fills the air with beautiful moans. Or blissful cries. Unfettered sobs of pure release only broken by another clean crack of leather against flesh. 

As the music we make crescendos to the top suddenly the everything fades away and I enter a world within myself.

A world that I have only ever been to when we fill the silence with our music. One where sound becomes sensation and sensation become extacy.

I ride waves of sensation as you see fit. Peaking when you desire and writhing under your skilled hands.

I become the instrament that makes the music, but I can’t tell. Because the world has fallen away and there is only you, and me, and what you do to me.

Until suddenly we are lying quietly together. The leather is gone, locked away. We are tangled together like a mass of vines that have grown that way since before time was measured.

Even in this silence there is the sound of you gently coaxing me back. Back to you, and the world where time exists, and the one where I can open my eyes.

I purr in your arms as you hold me close. The final ballad in our nightly concert. And there is still no silence.

Not like tonight, where the only sounds that fill the air are those of my singular breath.

The lonesome whirr of the fan echos the vast distance between us. And I wait, until I can feel your music on my body. Touch your skin with my soul.

I wait in the silence, louder than a train.

About B.J., Personal Submission

Distance Makes The Heart Grow

My Master is gone

Not forever, just for — what seems like– forever. This is like having the current that keeps the rivers from my heart flowing damned. I want to shut down and turn everything off until he returns, but I can’t

He has left before. But never as my Master. I didn’t understand exactly what this how this dynamic was going to change the whole distance thing.

Why was I thinking that this time was going to be like any other time? This time it hurts my soul. Sometimes I sit and stare at the spaces where he should be, expecting him to show up. A spectre of his presence.

Excitement Fades

I will pull into the driveway and see his car– and I get hopeful– like he is going to be inside. How dumb is that?

I know he won’t be inside our home and filling his bed and my body for another nine months. Yet, when I see his car, I still get excited like I am going to see him.

Then I get mad at myself.

Because I am an adult and I should know better than seeing a car and thinking it means I will feel my Masters dominating and soothing presence. The energy that makes me feel like I have a place in this chaotic world. A firm grasp on the back of my neck as he greets me and asks me to make him a drink. How it would make me feel so normal… so me.

Being In Control

I hate being the one in charge of everything. I hate not being able to let go. And though he has given my tasks that I must do daily for him. I still have to manage my home, and life, and bed alone and in control.

It is hard to learn to relinquish that control through the digital spaces that we occupy. One of the hardest things about my submission is being able to recognize my own desires and needs. My own emotions elude me, while they are so clear to him.

I will get tense, and have physical irritability but my head space will seem blank and not bothered. All the while there is some need not being met, that I am not even aware of. How do I allow truly submit those desires and needs into his care when I cannot recognize them for weeks on end.

When he is here he can point them out. The signs of an unspoken issue. Aware,even before me that there is something brewing within. Ever so in tune with me.

But here I am alone, with no one at the helm to recognize the brewing storms. How do I steer the ship when I cannot even tell what it looks like? How do I give him back the control through the digital space when I am in the doldrums of my own mind wondering why my mood is off?

I am not floundering through the deadly seas alone. There is the life line, the intermittent connection where I can call back to land and ask for guidance. But I am so desperate for the practiced ability to feel that over the distance between us.

Practice makes Perfect

And that is just it, it’s a practiced ability. One we have no practice at. I want a skill that will take time to acquire. I want to know how to achieve that feeling of submission when I cannot feel his touch or his ropes.

I do not want these growing pains in this phase of our relationship. These moments of growth within ourselves when we truly connect with who we are. Digging deep to find how to fulfill the role we were built to play.  These moments are the ones that I despise.

I want it now

I like comfort, and I am lazy. I do not want to learn a whole new set of skills. I want them handed to me on a platter with a big red bow.

I want unicorns, rainbows, leprechauns, and all the other impossible things that go along with the type of instant gratification that I would have knowing I’ve got long distance submission down to a science.

Yet this isn’t the end of the rainbow. There are no leprechauns or unicorns. I have to learn through trial by fire.


About B.J.

Take A Hot Shower

Morning Sex and Hot Showers

It is amazing how life has changed since I’ve put on His collar. I’ve worn a wedding ring for years, but the intimacy that we have now is beyond anything I could have imagined.

I never thought I would be someone who would wake up with a burning desire to be with Him. I wake up wet and aching, my whole body begging to be touched. When I’m lucky, He satisfies my need in bed before we get up.

But more often than not, I am taken by surprise in the shower. Well, maybe not a total surprise. At this point, I’ve spent the entire morning begging Him to touch me. Sneaking touches and flashing my best parts to try and illicit His desire.

It Wasn’t Always Morning Sex and Shower Surprises

There was a time when my Master was only my husband. We were so distant and broken that we would lie in bed next to each other, both wanting the other and neither able to do anything about it.

I had been broken and distant for so long that our intimacy was nothing. We were simply going through the motions. And I didn’t even know it.

It took some serious inner searching and some chemical interventions to realize the things that were missing within me. Luckily my Master is a patient man and lets me discover the reasons I kept people distant and drove myself crazy.

I was better, but we were still broken until He proposed that I submit to him. I had never considered this being something that could be done all the time. And as I contemplated the possibilities I grew excited. Frenzied.

And so it began, a new world to discover. We no longer lay in bed, broken with need and longing. There is this intense connection between us, that would have never been there had I not discovered who I was and the beauty of submission.

Giving Him the power to take what He wanted, ended up freeing us from our past and the shackles that our history had placed on our expectations of one another. It has been the most beautiful gift I have ever received.


BDSM Basics

Honesty in The BDSM Dynamic

Honesty is something everyone craves in a relationship. Even vanilla couples want honesty with their partners. Why is honesty the most important tennant in a BDSM home?

There are several reasons anyone in a BDSM dynamic is going to need to be honest.  

  • You need to know what you are willing to do and what you are unwilling to do.
  • Your partner needs to know that you have been honest in setting play limits and discussing possible health concerns.
  • You need to be able to be honest enough with yourself to safeword or call a scene early if something isn’t right.

These all seem like they are related to BDSM play specifically. So why do people involved in the lifestyle get so angry about lies in other areas? 

Let me put it to you this way, if you’re going to lie about something unimportant: say that you went out to a place your dominant told you not to go. Then how the hell could your dominant ever trust you to be honest when it came to important things, like a scene becoming too intense, or your claustrophobic tendencies. Trust is paramount and directly related to safety and even more so intimacy.

If you really embrace the lifestyle you will probably find that you become more honest and open about all areas of your life. For me, once I had gotten over the fact that I really thrived as a submissive. I was honest in areas that had nothing to do with BDSM. I am now able to say no to tasks at work or from family that would tax my mental or emotional resources. It’s pretty fucking amazing.

I no longer hide my feelings from my Master and if there is something that comes up I speak to him directly. I am able to trust fully in him that he will take my honesty and decide how to handle the situation. I love knowing that I can lay things at His feet, and as long as I am honest, He will take care of me and whatever has happened. I can actually ask for what I need. 

But before the lifestyle I would let things fester. I would lie and say everything was fine. I would hide my emotions out of fear of rejection or anger. These lies were toxic. All lies in a relationship are toxic.

A BDSM dynamic cannot exist in a toxic environment. You need be able to fulfil your role with honesty and integrity. Submissives need to know they can lay at their dominants feet without fear of hidden anger or distrust. Once you can do these things, you can truly explore a limitless dynamic. 

About B.J.

Why Write a Kink Blog? 

Writing about sex in our culture is pretty taboo all on its own. Writing about kink, that’s a whole nother world. So why would I open up like this and write about something that so many people see as taboo and immoral?

There are three reasons really.

1. I Am Married And Monogamous.

Most kinksters who write, don’t fall into this category. It was practically impossible to find any information about BDSM within a stable, committed relationship. I don’t need advice on how to find a fuck buddy or a play partner. Though I have read plenty of it.

I need information on how to see my submission into my everyday activities so that I can show Him that he is my Master, even if we are playing Minecraft on the Xbox with our kids.

How do you say “yes Master” at Church? Or better yet at your folk’s house?

Where is the information on how to subtly incorporate this into my marriage and daily life so I can get the things I need from my dynamic? There wasn’t any.

So, I am going to tell you what has worked for me and what hasn’t, but I will never tell you how you have to do it.

2. I Am Done With Perfection

I am so tired of all the beautifully photographed and photoshopped images of a D/s dynamic.

It’s not just the photos either, there seems to be this idea of what a D/s dynamic should be. People want to romanticize this as something that is beyond flaw or weakness. It sucks.

It is so hard to read about how the perfect submissive will kneel by the door naked waiting for their Master when that simply isn’t a possibility in the real world, or at least my world.

I came into the lifestyle after becoming part of community organization that would not be happy about my affiliation with BDSM. Also, I discovered my inner self after kids came on the scene. So, all of these “ideal protocols” are fantasy.

At first, it made me feel inferior, because I couldn’t be this fantasy. Then it pissed me off because just like the photoshopped pictures we have people crafting this idea of what you have to do to be a submissive, Dominant, little, Daddy Dom or whatever. It’s complete and utter crap.

The only people who can decide what is right for your BDSM dynamic is you and your partner(s). Don’t let some fantasy bullshit idea of what submission should look like ruin what could be an incredible dynamic.

When you compare your relationships and yourself to fantasy and Photoshop, you’re going to feel like a failure.

I wanted a place where you could see what it looks like in real life. Yes, the bottom of my socks get dirty. Yes, I have cellulite and stretch marks. Oh, good half the time I look like I’m either having a seizure of about to have one. But it’s real, and raw, and beautiful.

Real relationships and scenes are just like people. They get dirty and messy and they never turn out exactly like you planned. The unknown, unplanned imperfection is the best part. Especially with BDSM.

3. I Wanted To Share All of The Cool Shit!

BDSM has made amazing things happen in my life and my relationship with my Master. Where the hell am I going to be able to show off photos of a spanking session, or talk about my favorite butt plug? I certainly won’t be doing it at the local coffee shop.

Three fantastic reasons to write about kink. Yes, some are super self-motivated. But, one thing that being a submissive has taught me, it’s ok to get what you need and want.

BDSM Basics, BDSM Terms

What Does SSC Mean?

There are a lot of acronyms when you get into BDSM. Hell, BDSM is short for Bondage and Discipline, Domination and Submission, Sadism and Masochism. So it’s not surprising that you’re fine ding yourself lost in the lingo. Especially if you’re new.

If you’re on FetLife, Facebook, or have been to a Local Munch you may have heard the acronyms SSC.

What Does SSC Mean?

To keep it simple SSC means Safe, Sane, and Consensual. It seems simple enough when you look at the three words.

  1. Are the things you and your partner or partners doing in a scene safe?
  2. Would other people who share your kink consider it sane?
  3. Is everyone involved in the scene consenting to the activity?

When you ask yourself these three questions you may think that it is an easy rule to follow. SSC (safe, sane, consensual play) can get a little dicey if you aren’t paying attention or you are using things like intoxicants during your play.

Let’s take a look at each part of SSC and see what each rule could involve, and how you may or may not be following this rule.

Is Your Play Safe?

If your primary concern isn’t about safety. You should probably turn in your leather, chains and or rope into the local dungeon and hang it up for good. You have no business in the kink community.

Safety during play has a lot more to it than just making sure you have safety shears near you if you are doing rope bondage. You need to think deep safety officer style thoughts

  • If your submissive has asthma, where is their inhaler?
  • Does anyone in the scene have a medical condition, what is it? What are the symptoms? How do you recognize distress for this condition?
  • Have you sterilized all toys after your last play session, even fluid bonded toys?
  • Do you have a plan for the possible things that can go wrong in the scene? Have you discussed your “oh shit plan” with everyone involved?
  • Did you check any wood for splintering, rope for bites or frays, leather for wear, chains for sharp edges?
  • I’d you’re doing bondage, are you aware of nerve pressure points. Is your bottom aware that they should say something if they have numbness, tingling, or sharp pain?

This is a short list, but none of the things on here should have surprised you. These are things you should be doing whether it’s your first scene or your 500th. When people get lazy about safety, accidents happen.

Is Your Play Sane?

This can be an ambiguous question because kink can vary from person to person. But generally, if you’re risking life, limb, sight, or permanent injury it is not sane. Also, if other people who share your kink wouldn’t consider what you’re doing safe or sane, it probably falls into the category of “not sane play.”

Consensual Play

This is vital to anyone practicing BDSM. All play must be consensual by both parties. Also, understand at any point consent can be rescinded. This is why we have safewords.

Respecting the safe word system is a critical component to keeping play concentual.

If you’re a sub, and someone tells you that you can’t safeword, run the other way. Likewise, dominants should be wary of submissives who say they will never safeword. The ability to keep consent active through an entire scene is the only thing that differentiates BDSM from abuse.

Let me say that again.

Consent is the only thing that differentiates BDSM from abuse.

Now I am not trying to argue with you. Those who have Master/Slave relationships where the slave has consented not to safeword, you play a risky game when you force another person to do something they do not want to do. When we do things that leave marks, bruises, or we break the skin, we need to make sure that both parties wanted the activity. As a community, the only way that we can make sure we don’t fall into the realm of sexual predators is by keeping consent alive and active in all BDSM activities.