ShaniFaye

(I was asked yesterday by Halx to post this article I wrote for the Tilted Magazine almost 2 years ago....so here it is.....lol lots of you have read it since I made a blog on myspace about it when it became apparent the magazine idea died....so for those of you that HAVE read this long thing....nothing in it has changed...other than the fact it was written before our wedding, so we are actually husband and wife now)

When Mistress Meets Master



The BDSM lifestyle is as individual for everyone that lives it as there are stars in the sky. No two relationships are the same since it comes from inside us. Though others might have you believe differently, there is no right or wrong way to do it. The only time “wrong” would come into play is if it's not consensual; then it’s usually called abuse.

September 18, 2003 was a night neither Dave nor I will ever forget, which I will explain later. Both of us were fresh out of bad relationships. We always seemed to end up with people who had not figured out who they were and were waiting for us to give them an identity. In order to have a successful BDSM relationship it’s very important for you to already have your own identity because it comes out in how you handle your role in the partnership.

Some people are born to be the dominant just as some are born to be the submissive. Then, there are people like Dave and I. We are both parts. I tell people that I am so dominant in my everyday life that “giving that up” in the bedroom is a natural progression. Actually its more than a progression, it’s a need, not a want, a need.

I had been in the lifestyle off and on since the mid-90s, but the one thing that always held me back from participating in clubs or groups full-force was the humiliation factor that so many Dominants participate in. Whereas I can be as controlling as the best Dom in the world, and I can punish evilly, I cannot humiliate. I think it stems from my childhood. I was picked on and bullied badly as a child, or rather, badly in my opinion. Different things stick with different people. For me it’s the memory of getting on the school bus every morning in middle school and the boys singing “How Much Is That Doggie In The Window." I know I wasn’t pretty back then; I was overweight and I wore glasses and braces. My parents never believed in my having clothes with “labels” and most of what I wore were my cousin’s hand-me-downs, which always put me a year behind the fashion trends. I was the most picked on kid in school. I know people may think that’s an exaggeration, but it’s not. Many calls to my parents and meetings with counselors went on in those three years; not because of anything I had done, but they were afraid that because of the way kids were picking on me, I might eventually lose it. Yes, miserable would have been a really good way to describe the misfit people had convinced me that I was.

Fast-forward to August 1982, my first day of high school. Over the summer I had grown from 4’7 to 5’2. I had lost 30 pounds and bought my own clothes with babysitting money. I also had my first professional hair styling the week before school started. The neighborhood I lived in was unique. Which bus stop you used determined which school you attended. Because the dividing line was on our street, I got to pick where I wanted to go. Most of the people in middle school went to one particular high school. If I picked the other one, the only people I would know would be the ones in my neighborhood. It seemed logical to the most gifted student at Sweetwater Middle to attend the one where I didn’t know anyone and had no baggage as far as they were concerned. So I did. My first day of school was like nothing I had ever experienced. I actually did not want to leave to come home. It wasn’t just the attention from the guys who loved the petite thing with big boobs I had become. It wasn’t the teachers who would take me aside and let me know they were impressed with my grades and looked forward to having me in class. For some reason I will never be able to explain, that day I felt power. More power than I had ever experienced in my life and it excited me in ways that even today I struggle to put into words. By the time I graduated, I was popular, but not with the “popular” crowd; that crowd was full of the same people that I’d dealt with all my life. I had figured out by then I hated the ways of other teenage females and did not associate with them. I was popular with the druggies, the outcasts, the freshman, the smart kids, the not so smart kids and even the special-needs kids. I could hang around any group I wanted. I could hang with the band geeks or the varsity ball team. I could walk into the lunchroom and sit anywhere I wanted to. That’s the power thing again and, trust me, I learned how to work it. I learned to use it for good and I never ever took advantage of it. I have never been a person that could hurt someone emotionally just for the fun of it. So that brings us back around to the no humiliation factor of my BDSM life.

I read, I studied, I talked to people and I went to parties. I hung out with experienced Doms to soak up what I could. Everyone I hung out with told me that I was a very natural dominant, and that in being submissive I would never be anything other than what is referred to as a bratty Sub; which meant I was antagonistic and defiant. It also meant that I was manipulating the Master/Mistress to get what I wanted which, in the circles I ran with, was abhorrent and not tolerated. This group also didn’t really believe in “switching”.

It took me a few years to finally realize that some of them were wrong, but it wasn’t until I met Dave that I truly understood what switching was and how it could make my life so much more fulfilling. I went through many “role playing” experiences where I would try to be submissive; I would honestly give it my all. Anything I do in my life is done to the fullest but the wicked side of me always came out. I couldn’t help it.

The night I told my master that I didn’t see how he could dominate anyone with the dick he had was the night I decided that I would have to stop hanging out with those people. I had never in my life put down a guy for his anatomy. I couldn’t believe it had come out of my mouth. But I had been berated for hours because I was misbehaving and told I couldn’t take it seriously enough to be one of them and that I seriously needed to quit “playing” at a lifestyle like that.

BDSM is not a one-dimensional thing; it attaches itself to your entire life. It determines how you do your job, how your social life is, how your sex life is and how your home life is. I think the people I was hanging out with just wanted the sexual/humiliation side of it. When I refused to be humiliated I was called “no good." I was left wondering how in the world you could in all good conscience humiliate a person you professed to love. Humiliation has no part in loving someone. You can be controlling in a good way. But as I had no one to prove that with, I stopped hanging out with those people and went about my life with no relationship.

Now, as to the night I will never forget. Dave and I met online. We were both looking for sex, nothing but sex. I was even looking for normal vanilla sex. I didn’t care I just needed a release. I answered an online personal ad that he had put up on Tuesday. It had no picture or anything, the only reason I answered it was because he was around my age and he lived near me. He responded to me on Thursday September 18th.

We instant-messaged for a while and then he called me. I do not think I have ever been able to convey to him what I heard in his voice that day. We spent the day going back and forth, talking about our interests and the things we had in common. We agreed to meet that night for dinner. To make a long story short, when I met him I knew instantly that this was the guy I wanted for the rest of my life and that he was the man I could be sexually submissive to. I feel bad sometimes because a lot of that night is a big huge blur. I remember I paid for dinner because, well, I planned on sex, but it was going to be on my terms and I wasn’t having sex with a man that had paid for the date.

I remember that we drove to downtown Atlanta to the section of town called Little Five Points, where all the Goths and freaks hung out. I don’t remember kissing him in the parking lot of the place we ate. I remember we got downtown and all the stores had closed for the night and it was only 7:00 pm. I remember making out in that parking lot though. To me, that was our first kiss and the one that would forever hold me captive. We drove back to the north side where I lived and we got a hotel room. I do not remember exactly how many hours we were there, I cannot even tell you exactly what we did other than for the first time in my life I was multi-orgasmic and he came from oral sex. The look in his eyes when he looked at me took away any dominant trait I had ever had. I wanted to serve him and only him, I wanted to do whatever he told me however he told me to do it, and this is coming from a woman that could sexually dominate any man she ever met.

We left the hotel somewhere around 2:00 am, I think. I took him back to his car and he left me with his famous last words, “You’re fun to hang out with, I’d like to see you again. Just remember I’m not looking for a relationship”. It didn’t upset me, I knew it wasn’t what he really wanted, but I also knew that he would have to tell me that. So, I just said, "Ok, you call me when you want to hang out again."

My phone rings the next morning very early. I hear him tell me, “I had to wake up without you this morning and I never want to do that again." I’m sure you can picture the big evil grin I had on my face and I told him ok. We have been inseparable ever since then.

It wasn’t just the sex that was amazing because I’d had amazing sex before. It was the total trust I put in this man. He dominated me so totally in the bedroom that I forgot I was Mistress Faye. It was all so intense that the “bratty” part of me didn’t come out for a while. He has total control of my mind when we have sex, which in turn has given him total control of my heart.

Our lives meshed perfectly. During the day, I was in charge. He took care of me. He did the cleaning, the washing, and waited on me hand and foot. At night I was his, totally his.

There are times when I dominate sexually and he doesn’t argue. But like any true submissive, he knows that he is the one with the power and that no matter what I am doing to him, he can turn it on me in a second with just one look. Sometimes I will fight it, sometimes the brat comes out, which makes it all the more fun.

Dave taught me that it didn’t matter what other people in the lifestyle thought. There is no set thing that had to be done or not done. At a time I thought it was impossible for me to do so, he taught me that I can indeed be mastered and that I can enjoy it. He has also taught me that I can be a brat and that it’s ok. Switching is not about totally cutting off one side to experience the other. Switching is beneficial because of the knowledge your partner can bring because they do know exactly what you are feeling and how it can affect you.

I only wish the people that don’t think you can have the best of both worlds could spend just one day and one night in my shoes, because I honestly don’t think they can understand the lifestyle unless they know both sides. You cannot truly satisfy and fulfill your partner if you do not know what he is experiencing. That goes for your everyday life as well as your sexual life.

In our year and a half together I have found that Dave and I are alike in more ways than we immediately think about. Dave was the picked on one also, and he still is around friends and coworkers. Dave has the same kind of heart I do; he always makes excuses for the people that do that kind of thing, except when it comes to me being picked on or laughed at. He can get as defensive as a mother lion protecting her young when it comes to me. To him there is absolutely no excuse for anyone to put me down or pick on me. Of course I am the same about him. I would defend him to the death if need be. He is my Master and I am his Mistress, and yes, the two work together.

People ask me all the time to tell them how to be a Dom. To be a good Dom, you have to be a good Submissive. To be a good Submissive you have to be a good Dom. It’s as easy as that.

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I want the diabetic plan that comes with rollover carbs. I dont like the unused one expiring at midnite!!