Pat Powers's Blog: Pat Powers Goes BEYOND Outer Subspace! - Posts Tagged "master"

Collaring has a great deal of psychological meaning for many kinky folks. For some it is an analogue for a wedding band for kinksters, symbolizing the collarer's ownership of the collar wearer. And for others, it's just another bit of bondage gear. There are no civic structures for kinky relationships like there are for vanilla relationships (i.e., marriage) so these things vary.

This turned out to be important and useful when I decided to create an alternate world where everyone is into dominance and submission. I figured most would be into maledom/femsub stuff, like here on Earth, but there would also be femdom/malesub relationships, as well as gay relationships, asexuals and so forth. There just wouldn't be any, or very rarely, vanilla sexual relationships. It's not that there is any bigotry against vanilla sex, it's just that most people on Collar World wouldn't find it nearly as fun and sexy as kinky sex.

Plus, I didn't want bigotry to be a major theme in the world. “Bigotry is bad”is a good lesson but one well known to most who are into kinky sex. I wanted it to be more of a thought experiment: what kind of world would a world with just kinky people in it be? How would kink culture express itself if it were the dominant culture?

And that's where collaring comes in. To start with, of course, there's a personal collar, where a Master or Mistress gives a sub a collar proclaiming her or him the property of said Master or Mistress, with text that typically says, “XXX, property of ZZZ.” It would probably be the most common sort of collar, and the most sought-after collar.

There would also be Free Use collars, for women who want to have sex with just about anyone, anytime, with some kind of clearly visible hatching that lets Free Use collars be easily identifiable in a crowd or on the street.

There would also be institutional collars, or work collars, that let people know the wearer is on business. Women who have personal collars might have a work tag they hang from one of their personal collar rings, or maybe they'd wear two collars. It would be a matter of taste and practicality.

But work collars would also serve to let women who want a collar but aren't currently in a relationship go about their day without being collared by Masters looking for slaves.

And there would be asexual collars for men and women who don't want to be bothered, or whom are actually asexual, and Temple of the Collar collars for those in service or claiming shelter at a Temple of the Collar, as in the opening of Collar Dread. (I'll save a full explanation of the Temple of the Collar for another post.)

Of course, most Mistresses and Masters wouldn't wear collars at all. They'd be putting collars on the submissives. The lack of a collar would suffice to declare their status.

The point is, on Collar World most people can find a collar (or lack of one) that they are psychologically comfortable wearing. Everyone who wants to feel owned, and most women on Collar World do, can feel owned, generally by a personal Master or Mistress.

I did do one thing in my Collar World stories that I had to for the sake of their salability in the marketplace. And I made some other changes as a result, but more about that in another column. I think I've laid the groundwork here.

Here's the Amazon Link for the book.

Here's the Smashwords Link. A 22,000+ word novella for just $2.99.

I'm releasing this one on both Amazon and Smashwords at the same time, a new approach for me. Normally I've been going with Kindle Unlimited on Amazon, which gets me paid for page reads by Kindle Unlimited subscribers, but at the cost of publishing ONLY on Amazon for at least three months. But I haven't seen that much action from Kindle Unlimited, and I've seen a lot of action on Smashwords, so I'm "going wide" as publishers call it.

This is one of those stories that was inspired by a picture. This picture. (Link is VERY NSFW, do not click if you are somewhere where nudity is not acceptable.)

And you have to admit, that’s one hell of a picture. Just look at the expression on the woman’s face, combined with the raw carnality of her ass and the glamorous modern beauty with which she presents herself.

But mostly, it’s that expression. Here’s how I wrote it up in the novel (it’s not a key scene, no real spoiler here):

>It was the combination of the raw sexuality of her pink pussy display and the totally relaxed, confident, unashamed expression on her face that worked away at my mind. Finally, later that night when I sat at home staring at my computer screen, unable to write because I couldn’t think of anything else but that vision, I finally got it.

>I’d gotten the look on her face all wrong. I had mistaken it for some kind of animalistic reserve, some rare sense of herself that others didn’t possess. That wasn’t it, that wasn’t it at all. I mean, she really did not have a single fuck to give, that was true. But that was because she’d given all her fucks to Michael, literally. She was his creature. As long as she was doing what Michael wanted her to, she was doing the right thing. Always. She had no inhibitions, no doubts, no worries. Those all belonged to Michael now. She hadn’t mastered herself, she’d given herself away.

>And as the Buddha observed, those who escape the burden of self find Nirvana. Her expression, her indefinable way of carrying herself that hinted at incredible peace and tranquility, was the expression of someone who had found Nirvana, looking out at the world. People might call it self-possession, but what it actually was was other-possession. She had given herself to Michael. Literally, and what was left was a creature that utterly lived by Michael’s rules, and thrived that way.

That’s a lot to pin on an expression in a photograph, but that’s the writing game for ya.

Heeere's da blurb:

When I assumed that a woman co-worker who wore bondage jewelry all the time was a submissive and into bondage, I made a mistake. The result was a date that didn't turn out as I had hoped. But as a direct result of that mistake I met Sabrina Parker, another co-worker who was a world-class beauty with what I called ‘the Nirvana look’ to her. Thanks to my friendship with Sabrina, I soon experienced the night of my life, a night filled with kinky public sex and fun and play in a BDSM orgy that went beyond even my wildest fantasies.

And I met the woman of my dreams that night as well. I was her tall drink of water, she was my wonderful thing that came in a small package. It was truly a night that turned into a lifetime.

Sometimes a mistake can be more rewarding than success.

This novella is a kinky contemporary erotic romance that includes an HEA, a dominant alpha male, a bevy of submissive beauties, public bondage, nudity and sex, and more fun than you can (or should) shake a stick at. It’s over 22,000 words long and full of maledom/femsub fun.

Butterfly A Day In The Park

Just click here to be whisked away to Smashwords and get the story!

Or just click here to be whisked away to Amazon to get the story!

So here ya go friends, another light-hearted kinky erotic romance. But one appropriate for Labor Day. In this story I tried to imagine what it would be like to live in a society where no one is insecure about having food, shelter and clothing and no one is required to work, and the work that is available is four six hour days out of an eight day week: in short, a four day work week and a four day weekend. (We could do this right now if we wanted to.) They have plenty of time for love.

Also in that world, BDSM is considered the normal way to have sex. It is, in short, a fun world. The story is about two people who go to the park, dance, have lunch and go to a sex dungeon and have all sort of sexy dungeon fun. That is literally all there is to the novella, though they have a LOT of sexy dungeon fun.

We don't live in a society like that, but Labor Day IS a three day vacation, so here's hoping you all have a wonderful time this Labor Day.

Click here to get the book on Amazon.

Click here to get the book on Smashwords.

Da short blurb:

Sweet, virginal Mincy lives in alternate timeline in the 1950s where everyone’s into sexual bondage and a drug called nersha renders teens uninterested in sex. But when they’re taken off nersha after their 18th birthdays, the teens turn into frenzied sex maniacs, filled with animal need. How will Mincy cope with the mad passion driving her to submit sexually to a Master? Who will that Master be?

The 1950s was a profoundly weird period in American history. Supposedly it is the era that is nearest and dearest to the hearts of American cultural conservatives. It predated women’s liberation, the civil rights movement and the hippie movement, all of which they still despise.
Women were still mostly homemakers – even though many of them had had the experience of working in industrial and corporate jobs during World War II when so many American men were busy being machine gun fodder. And black people were out of sight and out of mind.
The role of women was so constrained that there’s a subniche of BDSM called “1950s domestic discipline” that exists, though I don’t think it’s huge. (I don’t think it’s huge because when I checked keywords on Amazon for “retro domestic discipline” I only got eight hits. When I searched for “1950s domestic discipline” I only got 34 hits: better but not exactly a landslide. However, the keywords “domestic discipline” (which I think is just code for spanking) got over 10,000 hits on Amazon. But I think that covers spankings from all time periods, within the context of a husband/wife relationship.
In any event, here’s a scholarly paper on 1950s domestic discipline which covers the topic well.
A lot was going on under the hood of the 1950s that would lead to all the things conservatives hate. This was most especially true in the areas of music and dance. While the older adults in the 1950s were still hung up on standards and leftover big band music the young kids were getting with the “race music” the early rocknroll songs that would soon rule the popular music scene. (It was called “race music” by some because it was a genre created mostly by black musicians. First jazz, now rocknroll… it drove the racists nuts.)
That’s part of the point of the dance hall scene at Pop’s Sodium Shoppe, to show rocknroll creeping in as the Bloomed (those who have gone off nersha and had their sexuality restored) dirty danced to the early rocknroll while the unbloomed shuffle danced to modern electro rock.
I chose modern shuffle dancing because I find it a joyful and expressive dance but not particularly sexual – an asexual sort of dance, still full of emotion and pleasure, though. Here’s a video of a great shuffle dance to “Lost in the Rhythm,” an electro-swing hit. (If you just search for “shuffle dance” you’ll find a lot of dances that incorporate sexy moves like twerking into the dance. They’re dances but not really shuffle dances.)
As for the Bloomed dancing, I was thinking of something like this scene from Dirty Dancing only with more acrobatics, lots of nudity and some actual fucking.
Much of my portrayal of the aesthetics of the 50s is informed various books on the topic, but you can easily get a feel for the imagery of the era by doing an image search for “Fifties Aesthetic.”
My initial idea for the story was to put a new spin on first time stories by having puberty delayed until age 18 but then have it hit like a runaway freight train, and how does a society cope with that? Everything else spun off from that central idea. I hope you enjoy it… I enjoyed writing it, though it was tough.