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@demeteruntouched
I'm Demeter. Make of this what you will.
You may reblog anything, including my nudes. You can find all my photography at #demeter on film.
Asks are open and they're not anonymous. I like receiving respectful questions.
DMs are only for women.
And finally I received a question about "spam liking"? It's encouraged. Get obsessed and be a little creep.
I remember setting boundaries, long ago, with a former Dominant. I expect any relationship I'm in to involve conventional romantic love. To eat at the same table and to sleep in the same bed.
It saddens me to see people accept less, or to be taught that it's their place. To be sure, some people enjoy unequal eating and sleeping arrangements, although it isn't my kink. I've always been a girlfriend first and a submissive second, even in TPE dynamics.
But love is the foundation of the kink that I enjoy. When I submit I do so with veneration and respect that turn into love, whether the love for a near-stranger sharing moments of affection with me, or the love for an established partner tenderly showing me a new formative influence. And I know I am worthy of love in return. Today I saw a "dominant" bragging about how they do not offer their submissives love, and it chilled me to my core.
my blog is a safe space for me. the rest of you are in danger i think
Do you like living in Paris?
Very much. And within the queer community at least, kink is far more mainstream (and frankly, a more relaxed culture) than in the UK or US. It's also more normal to talk explicitly about sex, including in public.
I have occasionally realised how much Paris has liberated me when I see (for example) how much less open the British or American people I run into can be. The fact of my being a pornographer has the power to shock and disgust anglophones in a way it just does not with French-speaking friends.
I can't sleep because I hear men's voices in the hall. There was some big football match in Paris tonight.
My double-locked door, my glass windows, seem such feeble resistance. I got out of bed and put on pyjamas. None of these things compare to how protected I felt, naked, blindfolded in your arms.
I am someone who needs so badly to feel someone watch over me. Someone really big and scary. Plus j'suis effrayée, plus j'suis protégée. I lay here thinking about you putting your body and your passion between me and anyone in the world who would want to touch me.
It will never stop being fun to answer some desperate thing's humble plea to start calling me by an honorific with the words "no, you may not." What are you without good words?
What are you doing after work tonight?
I got tattooed for the first time last month.
It took six hours. I took it like a tough girl, breathing deep, rarely showing any reaction to the pain. I was not about to be inappropriate with my artist in her house.
With my forearm pinned in place, with a needle drawing blood all day, I thought of you, with all of your tattoos, and all your power. How you once made me whine beneath you. How you made me fight not to wake the neighbours with my screaming.
The American girls at the next table could not believe I had been sitting so long. They admired my arm, and the artist's screen. One of them interviewed me, as I sat stoically, for her documentary about heartbreak. She was dealing with her first.
I told her that the only thing that gets better with time is that we know our own strength, and that we can survive it, that we can endure —
This morning I've been thinking about people telling me my Dominant was strict, extreme, a control freak. About how others couldn't deal with her. About how she was too much.
Close friends giving me horrified looks when I would admit I hadn't had an orgasm in over a month.
And I'm thinking about how it made me glow with pride. I felt love burn in my stomach and deep into my cunt.
Yes, she's strict and mean! Only a girl as good as me will do for her! Of course you wouldn't understand.
I'm thinking about your fingers in my cunt, while my own fingers work my cunt, out of my conscious control. My mind is breaking this morning.
I'm thinking about how I used to beg you for permission to come while you simply ignored me. I'm thinking about you slapping my clit and continuing to edge me without a word.
I'm thinking about your hand gracefully moving the chain that connects the painful clamps on my nipples; about your stern expression and complete control. My legs are shaking.
I'm trying to be good. I'm trying to move on. I will not come. I will not cry.
I am getting tattooed for the first time next week, and I could not be more intent on being an exemplary subject. Here I am researching typefaces that render ancient Greek accurately, and swatching them for her to choose from; I feel my body already anticipating the need to sit perfectly still for six hours.
Another human is going to mark me permanently. I am chewing my lip.
*sliding two fingers inside you* so how was your day, princess?
All I want
Boxing class Friday. Weights session this morning. My body is feeling strong as hell, and you're going to feel it.
This morning before work I rewatched Secretary (2002). There are a few things I love about it:
How E. Edward Grey (James Spader)'s reluctance to accept his sadism and control-freakery is portrayed. He is shown panicking in the bathroom about his attraction to his employee, he repeatedly tries to break off the relationship out of guilt, and we even see him type a letter apologising to her for his "disgusting" dominance — I think it is rare in cinema that we see this amount of interest in the emotional impact of D/s on the Dominant.
The way Lee Holloway (Maggie Gyllenhaal) is shown longing for the direction Edward gives her. In voiceover, when she starts the habit of taking walks on her own, she tells us "because he'd given me the permission to do this, because he'd insisted on it, I felt held by him." She stops self-harming in the safety of the relationship she forms with him. Lee is delicate and painfully shy, and she flourishes under Edward's control.
The incredibly tasteful costuming. Our characters remain appropriately dressed for almost the entire duration of the movie; there are no outlandish kink outfits or lingering shots of "sexy" lingerie. The brief, gorgeous nudity at the end of the film perfectly communicates what Edward and Lee's bond has become, and we see Lee's journey in the outfits she begins to select — no longer frumpy, but beautiful and expressive, thriving in her role as a woman and of course as a secretary. Late in the movie, in a makeout scene with her boring boyfriend, Lee has chosen a modest mid-thigh miniskirt. It rings true to a real woman's journey with her wardrobe, discovering her body.
The cinematography and direction, prioritising the emotional journey of the two central characters far above some "male gaze" approach to visual pleasure derived from the BDSM theme.
Most of all: the focus on power exchange and control rather than more visually impressive sadomasochistic kink scenes. The masochism is there, but it's always informed by the emotional relationship and the characters' longing for one another.
If anyone has any D/s themed movies they prefer to this one, I would love to hear about them.
My body is open, soft, warm and inviting. I lie here, in my bed, without you, waiting for you.
I long for you to slide your fingers inside me, for you to feel me tighten around you, for you to watch the curve of my back and to hear me begin to make my small, captured, intimidated whine.
I long for you to take command of me, for you to decide that my head may not leave the pillow, for you to forbid me to move as you sink your nails into me, for you to leave your bright red marks on my sweet skin. For you to blindfold me, to take away my sight until morning when you wake me, for you to leash me to your bed, for you to lock me in place.
All the time I am longing for you to decide what I eat, what clothes I wear, what time I sleep, what products I put on my pretty face each morning, what I may call you, where I may go. I truly need this much guidance and to be this controlled.
My body would belong to you, if you would claim it. I would not dare touch it without your permission. I would prefer never to orgasm without your permission — without your instruction.
I am open, soft, aching — yours.
I have been ordering my submissive to tie her cunt closed, with a ribbon threaded through her piercings.
She is having casual sex and even doing some sex work, for people who mainly use her mouth and ass, and who don't care about her pleasure. She has been telling them her cunt is off limits.
This morning we discussed how she is feeling about my having this much control. "I don't want clients to have access to my cunt," she told me. "And my little pink ribbon is a bit of a security blanket."
How I love having such a sweet little girl, and love keeping her secure.
I had one of the hottest degradation and orgasm denial scenes ever last night. Sometimes when you withhold pussy from a Dominant for almost two years... she's really mean when she finally gets hold of you. How could I have predicted this?
Mind broken, sobbing, begging, suddenly calling my friend an honorific while she called me Miss sophisticated, Miss cultured, Miss "we're not going to play like that"...
But she also called me darling and sweet girl and tough cunt. I'm very lucky. I woke up this morning with my whole body at peace.
