Ann Mayburn
Fem/Dom Author
Mmmmmm....I'm so glad you stopped by the dungeon today because my guest this week is an author who will help you understand and make you 'want more' as you read her work. If you don't already understand Fem/Dom, you will by the time you finish reading! She informs her readers about what's involved and why in this genre and her readers only crave more.
Please use the share links at the bottom so your friends can pop in to read in the privacy of their own home or office. Many readers love our genre even though they want to keep it a secret from their friends. Learn the true meaning behind the word submissive...then fix your own relationship to be what you both truly crave! Ann...Welcome to my dungeon! Our readers await...
Thank you, Tonya! I love talking with readers. Awhile back a friend of mine was talking about how the
attitudes towards submissive women were changing thanks in no small part to the
amount of Male Dom/female submissive romance being written. She was saying how
freeing it was to have people finally understand that she wasn’t some stupid
doormat of a woman who was too weak to stand up to her man, or some cringing
abused woman. Now she could hold her head high when she said she was a
submissive to her husband and know that most people, at least within the
romance community, knew she was just as strong and self-confident as the next
woman despite wearing a collar and acknowledging her husband as her Master.
I could only sigh wistfully because I’m a switch (80%
Dominatrix 20% sub) and so far romantic fiction has done a rather craptastic
job of portraying the Dominant women. The usual reaction I get when sharing
that I’m a Mistress with someone is something like this:
Me: “Yes, I’m a Dominatrix. Have been since the time I
spanked my first boyfriend in college.”
Them: “Dominatrix? But you look so normal.”
Me: “Uh, yeah?”
Them: “I mean, I just pictured a Dominatrix like being
six feet tall and whipping some guy while calling him a worthless pig with a
heavy European accent. You know, peeing on him and stuff. Yuck, how can you be
turned on by a male sub? Wimpy, effeminate men, ewwww.”
Me: *head/desk*
What many women don’t realize, even those that identify
themselves as submissive, is that some of the most dominant, masculine, manly
men in the world love to bend a knee behind closed doors to their Mistress.
In many ways it is much easier to be a female submissive
in our Western culture than a male submissive. For a woman to be submissive to
her man, to cater to his comforts and the care of their family, is encouraged.
Even post-sexual revolution women are still encouraged to be the ones who sit
back and take care of home and hearth while the men go out and earn a living
and fight wars. A submissive woman is often seen as being very feminine, soft,
and vulnerable. Qualities that are considered negative traits among men.
What most people don’t understand is the same dichotomy
that allows a female CEO to come home and happily give up all control and put
on a collar works with men as well. Just because an Alpha male willingly serves
his Mistress makes him no less of a man. It doesn’t change who he is at his
core, and it doesn’t make him a wimp any more than a woman wearing a collar
makes her a doormat.
Most male submissives that I know are more like knights
of old than anything else. They are strong, powerful men who the world often
fears, and with good reason, but they choose to serve one special woman with
all of their heart. A woman who inspires their trust, a woman they’re driven to
serve. Let’s take for example my friends Karen and Tim. On the surface Tim is
about as hyper masculine as one can get. Retired Marine, now a special ops
police officer, with a black belt in Karate who does Iron Man stuff year round.
If you put Tim in a cage match against 95% of the men on this earth he’d kick
their ass, but he tempers all that strength to serve Karen, his wife and
Mistress and it makes him feel complete. Men want to be their women’s sexual
superheroes, they want to blow our minds and fulfill our every fantasy.
Now I’m not going
to go into the psychology of BDSM and all that crap. Much smarter people than I
have written extensive books on it. Suffice to say everyone has their own
personal reason for relating to Dominant or submissive based on a variety of
influences. For women that tend more towards the Dominant end of the spectrum
in bed they would no more abuse their submissive than a Dominant Male would
abuse his submissive.
I can only tell you what I find attractive about a
submissive Alpha male. I love the idea that he can overpower me at pretty much
anytime he likes, unless restrained of course, and it is only the strength of
my will that is making him obey. It makes me not only proud that he’s willingly
serving me, but that I’m bringing him pleasure unlike any he’s ever
experienced. His joy is my joy, his pain is my pain.
Alpha male subs
tend to test their Mistresses a little more than your average submissive, and I
rather like the constant challenge of seducing my Alpha male into submission.
Because that is what I do as his Mistress. A Dominant must constantly seduce
that submission from their partner, be they male or female, and reward them for
their compliance with mind blowing pleasure.
While I of course enjoy the hell out of my orgasms, I think
I might enjoy my submissive’s orgasms just a little bit more. I take pride in
the fact that I made him feel this way. I made his eyes roll back in his head,
I made him scream my name in ecstasy, and because of his trust in me it allowed
me to give us both a scene that has left us a sweaty, smiling, blissed out
mess.
It’s a very heady feeling to have a powerful man kneel
before you, and I can’t imagine why more women wouldn’t want a man to worship
them.
Think about it, your resident Alpha male hunk standing
before you, his eyes lowered, his hands at his side as you walk around him. You
know he wants to look, wants to give into the natural male desire to stare at a
woman’s body, but because you’ve forbidden it his eyes remain on the ground.
His big muscles flex as you circle him, allowing you to look your fill, to
touch wherever you want. No matter who you both are on the outside, right here
and right now you’re his Mistress and he trusts you with his complete
submission. How could it not make a shiver run up your spine to think about all
the wonderful, utterly kinky, and fantastically smutty things you two can do
together because he trusts you enough to give him the pain and the pleasure
that he needs. Never forget, it is the submissive that holds the real control
in the relationship. All window dressing bullshit aside, at the end of the day
if the sub says stop, everything stops.
In my FemDom book, Still, we meet a rather unlikely
Mistress and Alpha male submissive pairing. Wyatt, the hero, is an Alpha male
all the way and before he met Michelle, the leading lady, he’d never have even
considered that being a male submissive could turn him on. But under Michelle’s
sensual Domination he finds himself doing things that bring him a satisfaction
like nothing he’s ever known.
If you’re ever curious about the Dominatrix/Alpha male
sub relationship and like a very steamy, emotional, and sometimes heart
wrenching read, I’d be honored if you’d give Still a chance and let me show you
that FemDom can be just as sexy as MaleDom any day of the week.
Blurb: Dr. Michelle Sapphire and Gunnery Sargent Wyatt Callahan formed an unbreakable bond and an unacknowledged, forbidden attraction to each other while serving together in Afghanistan. Their lives are forever changed when a mortar attack grievously wounds Wyatt and Michelle brings him back from the brink of death. But when they both return to the civilian world, Michelle discovers that her rock-solid Marine is suffering from severe PTSD and may even be suicidal.
Wyatt Callahan fell hard for the aristocratic blonde doctor the moment he laid eyes on her. After re-entering civilian life in his hometown near Austin, Texas, Wyatt is plagued by nightmares of the death and suffering he witnessed during the war. He'd love to reach out to Michelle, but -- Michelle is a Dominatrix, and she has made it very clear to Wyatt she isn't interested in a relationship with anyone who doesn't accept her lifestyle. An Alpha male to the core, he can't imagine the appeal of being submissive.
At the same time, the idea of serving Michelle, of being everything she wants and needs, rings true in his wounded soul.
Michelle has dark secrets of her own, and together with Wyatt she will have to battle her personal demons during their emotional journey of healing, redemption, and love.
Wyatt Callahan fell hard for the aristocratic blonde doctor the moment he laid eyes on her. After re-entering civilian life in his hometown near Austin, Texas, Wyatt is plagued by nightmares of the death and suffering he witnessed during the war. He'd love to reach out to Michelle, but -- Michelle is a Dominatrix, and she has made it very clear to Wyatt she isn't interested in a relationship with anyone who doesn't accept her lifestyle. An Alpha male to the core, he can't imagine the appeal of being submissive.
At the same time, the idea of serving Michelle, of being everything she wants and needs, rings true in his wounded soul.
Michelle has dark secrets of her own, and together with Wyatt she will have to battle her personal demons during their emotional journey of healing, redemption, and love.
Here is an excerpt from ‘Still’ in which Wyatt finds out
for the first time that the woman he’s been in love with for close to two
years, but was untouchable because they were both in the military, is a
Dominatrix.
Michelle tried to keep her voice cool and measured even
though she had a million butterflies dancing around in her belly. “I’m a
Domme.”
“A what?”
“A Mistress…a Dominatrix. Take your pick of titles but
that's what I am and what I enjoy.”
“No. Fucking. Way.” Wyatt sat up straighter. “So...you
like to beat the shit out of guys?”
“No!” She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.
“No, I do not beat the shit out of guys.” His disbelieving stare made her shake
her head. “Well, okay, I only beat them if they ask nicely.”
“But isn’t whipping some poor bastard's ass what
Dominatrices do? I mean, at least that’s what they do in pornos. Oh God, you
don’t want to pee on me do you?” She shot him a dirty look and he grinned.
“What?”
“If you base your beliefs on how women behave on pornos,
then I think I’m very wrong about what kind of man you are.”
“Hey now, I was just kidding.” He scrubbed his hand over
his face. “I mean, fuck, I never would've thought you were into that kind of
kinky shit.”
She tapped her finger on the steering wheel as they
waited for the light to change. “I am, and if any man wants to be with me, he'd
better understand what he’s in for. I’m not going to pretend to be someone I’m
not for anyone.”
That shut him up and he stared out the window as they
drew closer to his apartment building. “I can understand that…but, I mean, I’m
not trying to be outta line, and I could be totally misreading this, but I’m
not the kind of guy that could let a woman boss him around.”
She wanted to point out that she’d done just that while
they were over in the sandbox, and that he’d been quite happy following her
directions, but she didn’t think that was the right approach. With all of her
heart she wanted Wyatt, and was pretty damned sure he wanted her, but she also
wanted more than meaningless sex.
She wanted a submissive.
“Why don’t you research it a little bit. And no, I’m not
talking about watching pornos.”
He blew out a harsh breath, the scent of alcohol
drifting through the air. “Doc, I don’t know what to say.”
“I understand.”
An uncomfortable silence descended on them, but she
wasn’t going to break it by begging him to give being her sub a chance. So what
if she still dreamt of him? So what if being this near to him set her body on
fire? And, dammit all, so what if she thought there was something special
between them? If bottoming for her didn’t turn him on, if it wasn’t something
he could learn to appreciate and crave, then their hypothetical relationship
would never work.
Maybe she was coming on too strong, too desperate. She’d
been looking for him for months now and thinking about how good it would be to
see him again. She hadn’t taken into account that he might not be adapting to
civilian life as well as she had. And his drinking worried her.
He leaned forward when they reached the entrance to his
apartment complex. “I’m the third building on the left.”
She pulled into a spot near the entrance to his unit and
put the car into park before turning to him. “Well, here we are.”
“Yeah.” He made no move to open the door, but he also
wouldn’t look at her.
She reached into the back seat and dug around in her
purse for a pen and one of her business cards. While writing on the back of it
she said, “Here’s my card. My home number and cell are on the back. If you ever
need me, call me.”
He took it from her, their fingers brushing. For a long
moment he didn’t say anything, then he leaned across the seat, his intent obvious.
Everything inside of her clenched in anticipation, her need for his touch deep
enough to drown in. At the first brush of his lips against hers she trembled.
The second pass of his lips was a little bolder,
lingering against hers before slanting his head and giving her a kiss that sent
a warm cascade of tingles through her body, awakening her senses to him in a
decadent rush of lust. She opened her mouth and he groaned, taking advantage of
the invitation and meeting her tongue with firm strokes of his own. Unable to
help herself, she fisted her hand into his hair, holding him still. God, he was
so big, so strong. Here in the confines of her car he seemed to take up most of
the space. She thought about what it would be like to rub her body against his
muscled frame, to orgasm merely from her flesh sliding against his.
Moving back just enough to break their kiss she
whispered against his lips, “Hold still. I want to enjoy you.”
He did as she asked and she began to slowly devour his
mouth, tasting and sucking on his lips, paying attention to his every shift, to
the changes in energy coming off his body. Her mind kept stumbling over the
fact that this was Callahan, the same man she’d absolutely lusted after but
who'd been totally off limits. He groaned when she nipped his lower lip and
pulled her into his arms when she sucked on his tongue. Beneath the loose suit
jacket his body was still firm, solid muscle, and she ran her hands over him
trying to memorize the feel of his form.
When his hand went to her waist and began to travel
towards her breast, she reluctantly broke their kiss.
“Come upstairs with me,” Wyatt urged, his eyes
fever-bright with need.
Oh, she was sorely tempted to go up there with him, to
lose herself in fucking this amazing man, but she wanted more. As hard as it
was, she somehow managed to shake her head. “No, Wyatt.”
His face fell and he pulled back, reaching for the door.
“Yeah, well it’s been goo—”
“Wait. I’m not saying no, or that I don’t want you.
Right now I could fuck you up one side of the room and down the other, but I
want more than that.” She hesitated, then decided to tell him a little bit of
the truth.
“Something happened a while ago that taught me to live
everyday like it's my last and I... fuck, I’m explaining this badly.”
He reached across and ran his knuckles down her cheek,
his eyes becoming heavy lidded with desire. “Take your time.”
“Look, I don’t want just a fuck. I want more, but I
don’t know if we could work out long term.” His hurt look cut at her heart and
she tried again. “Being a Domme is part of who I am, it’s as much a part of me
as my hair or the color of my eyes. I was born this way, and I can’t become
something I’m not in order to please someone. I need someone who won’t just be
my partner, but will also be my submissive. And I don’t want someone who will
fake it. I want someone who craves my dominance.”
He closed his eyes and thunked his head back against the
seat. “Right now my cock wants me to say whatever I need to in order to get you
into my bed, but that wouldn’t be fair to either of us. I don’t know if I can
be, you know, like that with you.”
“How about this? You do some research and call me if you
have any questions.”
“'Kay.” The look he gave her let her know that phone
call would probably never come. “I’ll see you around, Doc.”
“I really hope you call, Wyatt.”
He shoved the card into his pocket and got out of the
car without looking back. “Thanks for the ride.”
Before she could say anything more he shut the door and
left her alone with her thoughts, the scent of his cologne and the alcohol on
his breath still hung in the air. As she watched him walk into the building she
had to fight herself to keep from running after him. Every word she’d said had
been true, and she told herself that if they were meant to be together he’d
call. Still, as she pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the main road
she didn't wipe away the tears that rolled down her cheeks.
Ann is Queen of the Castle to her wonderful husband and
three sons in the mountains of West Virginia. In her past lives she's been an
Import Broker, a Communications Specialist, a US Navy Civilian Contractor, a
Bartender/Waitress, and an actor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. She also
spent a summer touring with the Grateful Dead-though she will deny to her
children that it ever happened.
From a young age she's been fascinated by myths and
fairytales, and the romance that often was the center of the story. As Ann grew
older and her hormones kicked in, she discovered trashy romance novels. Great
at first, but she soon grew tired of the endless stories with a big wonderful
emotional buildup to really short and crappy sex. Never a big fan of purple
prose, throbbing spears of fleshy pleasure and wet honey pots make her giggle,
she sought out books that gave the sex scenes in the story just as much detail
and plot as everything else-without using cringe worthy euphemisms. This led
her to the wonderful world of Erotic Romance, and she's never looked back.
Now Ann spends her days trying to tune out cartoons playing
in the background to get into her 'sexy space' and has learned to type one
handed while soothing a cranky baby.
