Girl on the Net

Text: For every minute you’re late, I’m going to make you put an ice cube down your trousers.

I was quite proud of that one at the time. He still hasn’t done it though. The pub was a bit exposed and to be honest, it felt like maybe that one was a bit sexual. Ice cubes? Cool. Casual femdom? Fine. Trouser-based activity? Probably pushing it.

I have a friend who is super-sub. The kind of submissive you find in clubs wearing just PVC panties and an expectant grin. The sort of guy I’d playfully ask for a foot rub if my pointy shoes were killing me. A sub who does whatever you ask, then looks at you with those puppy-dog-eyes I’ve heard so much about, eager for you to issue another instruction.

I’ve mentioned before that I struggle with being dominant, in part because I find it hard to embrace dominance in a way that genuinely turns me on. Occasionally I’ll hit my stride, with a guy I’m really horny for, and I’ll beat him up, or fuck him with a strap on, or dress him up in silky knickers so I can tease and edge him until he whimpers like a dog. These things are all fun.

But the kind of fun I’ve never been able to embrace quite as well is the casual fun of humiliation – barking strange orders and watching someone follow them. Doing it to guys I’m fucking feels like it diminishes them too much. It feels like an unnatural lie. I can call you pathetic but you actually aren’t – and if I’m naked with you and crushing your dick in my fist then chances are I think you’re anything but a loser.

There’s one place, though, where I can revel in this kind of playful degradation: the pub. It turns out that I really really enjoy that kind of dominance, as long as you take all the sex out of it.

No high-heeled boots or cockshaming or whipped inner thighs and whimpers: just a dare, a drink, and a dude who finds it funny.

Casual pub femdom

“Take off your glasses. Now leave them there for ten minutes. Nope, don’t touch them.”

In the same way as I’d tease a good friend about getting their round in, or get mocked by a mate for spilling wine down my top, so I quite like the ability to play back and forth with this guy’s kinks. It’s unearned power – less risk because there’s no reward. I can order him to do things I’d not dream of saying to other people because at any point he could turn round and say ‘fuck off mate, I’m not doing that.’

There’s no touching. It’s not flirting. It’s not BDSM at all. It’s like a dare inspired by a kink, mutated into something to pass the time while other people get a round in.

“Here,” *spits in drink* “now drink the rest of it.”

I don’t know why I’m telling you this, other than that the other day we discussed it and he said I should tell someone. It’s a thing that could potentially be sexual – I suspect there are submissive guys who would love to pop to the pub and get involved in a round of casual pub femdom dares – each one sitting on his hands, putting ice cubes down his trousers, or drinking dregs from the drip tray, getting aroused by displaying their obedience.

I guess I’m also telling you because sometimes I like the thrill of getting an order just right – exactly on the line between ‘hard to obey’ and ‘fun as a challenge.’

“Take one sip when I tell you but no more.”

And because sometimes I’ve pushed it too far.

“Give me your cigarettes.”

But maybe I’m telling you because it hits on something I’ve never really discussed here before: not everything sex-inspired is sexual. Not every kiss leads to a fuck. Not every fuck is about uncontrollable lust. Not every order barked across a crowded pub causes sub guys to get horny.

I think I often come across as a bit straight-faced. Some people tell me I’m intimidating, and I do have a habit of taking sex really seriously. Fucking matters to me because it’s one of the main loves of my life. But sex and kink don’t always have to come with lube and latex and lust. Sometimes the way you fuck, or love, is just a part of who you are. Something you play with, and joke about, and do with your mates down the pub.

Maybe the reason I’m telling you is because he still owes me thirteen ice cubes, and I thought it’d be fun to throw the orders open to you.