In talking with many of my submissive friends, there seems to be general consensus that we share.  It’s an idea that we that seems so obvious, but lack on it strikes fear, disappointment and often times resentment.  In the BDSM community, in D/s relationships it’s a common thread of communication, but sadly, sometimes it’s something that lacks.

Accountability.
(n)  the state of being accountable,  liable, or answerable

It means, there are rules, everyone knows the rules, everyone is clear on the repercussions for breaking the rules. Lastly, it means, if the rules are broken, those repercussions had damn well better be carried out.  As a submissive, I rely on the fact that I will pay for my missteps.  I will absolutely suffer for my infractions.  Not because I am such a horrible person and every infraction is the biggest thing in the world- but because this is what I have agreed to.  I am an adult.  I made an agreement to enter into a relationship with a power exchange.  I have given myself to my Sir and I have agreed, consensually, to take deference to his decisions within the lines of what we have negotiated.  What I mean by that is, there are some things for which he holds no claim- my family, my children, my job.  The rest, all the way down to whether or not I cut my hair… I am to defer to his decision on.

If I decide to behave outside of this agreement, then I am behaving in a way that is non-consensual to our agreement.  I agreed to accept his collar in the spirit in which it was offered to me.  The spirit of obedience, humility, transparency and my identity as a slave.  When I behave in a way that is outside of that spirit, then I am acting in a way that is non-consensual to our agreement and I have, by taking his collar- given up my right to do that without repercussions.

I rely on that.  I trust it.  I know in my heart that if I start acting up, I will have consequences.  I am accountable for my behavior.  If I go out to a party with lifestyle people, get drunk, act a fool and start bad mouthing my Sir, I can be damned sure that I will pay for that.  I will accept my punishment because I am accountable for my behavior.

However, I also trust that my Sir WILL make me pay for my infraction.  He also needs to be accountable and responsible.  He has laid down rules for me- and if I break them, I trust him to not let me slide.  I trust him to NOT let me get away with behavior that is unacceptable.  I trust him to punish me in whatever way he deems appropriate.  If he fails to do that, then he is behaving in a way that is equally non consensual.  I agreed to accept his collar, he agreed to enforce the collar.  Just because I don’t LIKE the consequences does not mean I should not have them.  I have spoken to a few submissive friends who have said things like, “I wish he would push me harder.” or “I don’t understand why I have to make this decision- isn’t he the Dominant?” or “It doesn’t matter, he isn’t going to do anything about it”

It’s tragic, in my opinion.  It shows a lack of conviction in the Dominant.  It makes us lose respect for our Dominants.  As a slave, I expect my Master to keep my ass in line.  As soon as I lose faith in the idea that he will keep me in line- should I wander off, I have no choice but to drift from my role as a slave.  Why should I hold up my end of the bargain, if he’s not going to?  It’s human nature to push the boundaries- and if I have nobody to push back, then it’s chaos.

This past weekend I forgot something I was instructed to bring with me.  It was a sex toy that he wanted to use in our play this weekend.  He mentioned it several times during the day- don’t forget this.  Be sure to have this.  I had packed it in my purse.  Then about 5 minutes before I left the house, I had a brilliant idea to NOT bring my purse with me to the dungeon.  I grabbed my drivers license, my ATM card and my phone.  I didn’t need anything else right?

WRONG.

In the car ride, it occurred to me that my butt plug was in my purse.  My purse was sitting on my kitchen counter.  Damn.  Crap. FUCK!  So I told him this- and he shook his head at me.  He said, “Pumpkin, I reminded you several times.”   He really didn’t seem angry or irritated by it and he was silent for a few moments before he said, “I will think on the appropriate punishment for this.”

Wait?  Punishment?  My mind was racing, why am I getting punished?  He isn’t even mad.  He doesn’t care about this.  It’s of no consequence really.  It’s my ass!!  What is the big deal?  Jeez- what a hard ass!

I asked if we could go back to get it- and he said “No.”  I got quiet, and even when he reached over and held my face and said, “Pumpkin, I’m not mad at you- but there are consequences for your actions.”

I replied with a sincere, “Yes Sir.” and waited for my fate.

As it turns out, the punishment was not so horrible.  I was to approach his mentor and ask her how she punishes her slaves for an infraction like mine.  I realized this would do two things for me.  It would make me admit to another dominant that I respect that I had screwed up and was paying the consequence for it and it would also give me an idea of what punishment might be in store for me if I were to make a similar mistake again.  I accepted this task, but when I went inside to speak to his mentor, she was already busy and would be for at least an hour.  I went back outside to report to him that this was the case and he said I could talk to her later.

Then he said he will be inside in a bit and we can play.

“A bit” turned into 20 minutes, 35 minutes, 45 minutes.  I went outside to check on him, and he said, “One more smoke.”  I knew this meant another 20 minutes.  I went inside, turning my pouty face away from him.  I felt that I was being made to wait- that I was being punished farther than what he said my punishment was. I felt horrible.  I felt like my infraction had so hurt him that he didn’t want to play with me.

I know, you’re thinking, it was a fucking butt plug right???

Well, to understand my thinking, you have to understand me.  I strive for perfection.  I hate punishment.  I hate being in trouble so much so that I will usually do whatever it takes to anticipate things that MIGHT get me in trouble so I don’t have to hear those words or that feeling of someone being disappointed in me.  He knows and expects my obedience and he so often tells me how awesome and great I am.  All of a sudden I can’t remember something so simple, and something that I really ENJOY.  What the hell is wrong with me?”

By the time he came back inside, I had beat myself up to the point of tears.  As soon as he looked in my eyes and asked what was wrong, I started to cry.  I apologized over and over.  I told him I was so sorry that I was forgetful and distracted.  I was sorry that I was being selfish and not wanting to carry anything tonight which is why I left the toy at home.  As I cried into his shoulder, I thought, He’s going to leave me someday because I can’t follow the most basic orders.

He immediately pulled me aside.  I sat down at his feet and he let me cry, and then he talked to me.  He reassured me that I was not to let this ruin my night and that it was not ruining his night.  He said I was a very good girl, and that he is so proud of how I behave all the time.  That I honor him constantly and how much he loves me.  I know that he realized just how hard this was for me.  He now understood that I really WASN’T kidding when I told him how hard I take punishments- not because I don’t want to suffer my consequences, but because I just have the state of having done something that required consequences.

I sat with him and cried a little longer until I felt better, which included some time for me to feel guilty for making him deal with me and my crying fit.  Then I got up, brushed my dress off and we went outside.  He then turned to me and said, “My mentor is available now.  Why don’t you do what you’ve been instructed and then we can move on with the night.”

I thought for a second, “Oh- I STILL have to do that?  Doesn’t he know that I’m sorry enough?  Haven’t I suffered enough?”  I put my bottom lip out at him for second and then I immediately realized it the greater lesson of the night.  Just like I am accountable for my behavior, so is he.  He gave me an order and if he didn’t make me carry that out- then he was not being accountable.  I respected him even more for this.  For me, accountability is the state of being responsible for my actions.  It means that my mistakes are mine and not anyone else’s.  It means that I know what my expectations are and that I will suffer the consequences for failing to meet those expectations.  For my Sir, it means almost the same thing with a few minor situational adjustments.  It means say what you mean, and mean what you say.  It means, don’t make promises you don’t intend to carry out.  It means, don’t make threats you won’t hold to.

Tears and regret do not negate accountability.

After I spoke with his mentor, I went back outside and reported to him, her answer.  Then I hugged him and thanked him for holding me to my punishment.  I thanked him for his conviction and his accountability.  I highly doubt that I will forget my toy again, but the lesson here was a much bigger one than I expected.

Submissives are not the only ones who have a bargain to uphold.  We are not the only ones who must act according to our station.  We want, we need and we crave for our Dominants to have conviction.  We want our Dominants to give us boundaries, and hold us up to them.  Without that, the submissives take over the dungeon, so to speak- and the role of the Dominant becomes useless.  I am sure I could speak for many others, but for myself – the thought that my Dominant would fail to do the job that he has agreed to do is almost a worse infraction than I could ever do.  The Dominant sets the tone, the Dominant drives the relationship.  If the dynamic is allowed to run off course, I think the consequences and potentially bad outcome of that are far worse for the Dominant than any punishment I may have to be accountable for.

I was so not expecting our relationship to be where it is today.

You were so not expecting to hear that from me. Right?

Basically, it goes like this:

I read a lot of blogs written by supposed slaves before I decided a slave is what I want to be.

I don’t usually say that anymore. “Supposed slaves”. I turn my nose up at the idea of a “true” anything in the kink world. But when it comes right down to it, looking back on the things I used to read, the fact of the matter is there’s just no way these women had ever been human, much less a slave. People just don’t exist on the level they claimed to.

Why do I say that? Cause they never made mistakes! It’s not just that they didn’t talk about them. They claimed not to make them at all! Conversations with them would go a little something like this:

“So, I got punished today.”

“Erm… I never get punished.”

“Oh, so you don’t have a punishment dynamic?”

“Well, we have one. I just don’t ever do anything wrong.”

Uh… huh. Well, if I wasn’t certain he already knew (if he exists), I’d give the man upstairs a call for you and tell him to reserve you a special place in Hell. He doesn’t much care for people who liken themselves to him. Or so I’m told.

These false perfect people had me convinced that M would be out of my life in six months flat. I’m not joking. I didn’t want him to be, and I was petrified of it actually happening. I’d fall to pieces any time I got in trouble out of fear of losing the one man I’d met who treated me like a person and not a whore.

Funny, that. The only man I’ve ever been with who I wanted to treat me like a whore, in the “making me into a sexual being for him” sense, instead treated me like a person who liked sex. Color me shocked. And hopelessly devoted.

Getting over that was easy. He proved time and again that there really wasn’t anything I could do to drive him away. The hard part, was getting over the changes.

In the beginning, we were hellbent on proving the critics of 24/7 master/slave relationships wrong. It wasn’t that living a 24/7 scene was impossible. It was just that they weren’t managing their time right. We could totally live a 24/7 scene if we wanted to! And to that end, M would incorporate rituals and rules that sounded good in our heads, but in reality, they didn’t really make sense. Oh, some days it was fine. Some days, we had plenty of time, and energy, and the rituals slid in perfectly. But others…

You know, as much of a masochist as I am, getting caned every single night starts to take the fun out of being caned. A blow job before bed goes from sexy fun to an annoying chore after the third week. And let’s not discuss the lockjaw. An enema every day isn’t healthy or practical. And one’s limbs can only take so much of being strung up on a St. Andrews Cross. Humans just aren’t built for prolonged torture. Even if we like it.

At first, I took the slowing down of the kinky side of our relationship as a comment on the rest of our relationship. I was all “ZOMG! M doesn’t want to beat me anymore! He must not want me anymore! LIFE AS I KNOW IT IS OVER!!!!!onetyeleven!!11!1!!”

But I’ve got this friend named CarrieAnn… You guys know her well. She’s the manager here at Eden Cafe. And this one day, I popped over to her blog, and read a couple posts about how the kinky side of her relationship was kind of… dwindling, except for the dynamic, and she was content.

Content?! How can anyone be content when the very thing that drives them is going away?!

But it wasn’t going away. They’d just found their “groove”. They found their “perfect mix” of dynamic, real life, and kink. They found what works for them. And they both recognized it. So they were content.

M and I decided to take a step back and look at the dwindling kink in our relationship. Was there actually something wrong, or were we just victims of evolution? Had we really begun to grow apart, or had we just found what works for us?

At that point, we hadn’t found what works for us, yet, but we realized, after some discussion, that we weren’t growing apart, either. Our needs were changing. Our lives were changing. And though the days we spent with me chained to the bed and a whip in his hand were fun, and we still occasionally play at them, they just weren’t what we needed anymore.

I’m not sure I would have been able to see the difference if I hadn’t seen someone else go through it. I think I would have continued to believe our relationship was going downhill.

So this is me telling you that everything evolves. Even kinky relationships. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Just go with the flow, and constantly check in with each other, and fix the changes you don’t like. Trust me. Your life will be so much easier.

In 1996 I lost my virginity. I was 19. Years before I had been exploring my sexual desires through self-love, and had pretty clear expectations about what sex was like. After all, I had seen the nudy magazines under my parents bed, and happened upon a VHS tape left in the VCR. It looked fun, dirty, and I was transfixed. So, when my first sexual experience did not happen just like in the media I had sneaked, I was disappointed.

This was to be the beginning of my search for perfect sex.

I never voiced my disappointment with my new sexual partner, and for that I probably erred, but what I did was throw myself into exploring sex in as many ways as possible. I not only wanted to wipe ‘virgin’ from my identity, but I wanted to make sure it was buried deep in as much experiences as I could. That suited my partner just fine. We had sex so much that there were times when friends would ask what we’d been up to, and all we could do was smile.

We bought one of those books that has sex positions in them, and tried every single one we were capable of doing. In each position I was searching for the emotions, reactions, and ultimately the pleasure I had seen in the porn I now perused frequently. Why wasn’t my sex just like that? I wanted to know how to get to the panting and screaming. I wanted to dive into lust and come out sweating on the other side. But it just wasn’t happening.

It never dawned on me that my partner could be the issue. He was actively seeking sex with me, I enjoyed his above average penis, and he had excellent kissing skills. After awhile I brought up that I wanted to try some wilder things like blindfolds, and bondage, and sex toys. Something had to make my perfect sex come to fruition. Nothing did. Don’t get me wrong, the sex was great but it was just sex.

I wanted mind-blowing sex!

Seven years I slept with the same man, wondering if there was something wrong with me and how I enjoyed sex. I read books about desire, sexual manuals, and watched so much porn that I could recognize porn star genitals (and that’s saying something). Yet, I wasn’t getting any of the sex that I saw acted out. Our sex left me feeling frustrated, usually unsatisfied, and yet I didn’t want more because I didn’t see it changing.

There’s only so much boring sex a person can take, and I was reaching my limit. So I started using the internet to get off. I learned about sex chat rooms and bought a web cam. All with my now husband’s permission. He’d watch me play with myself on camera and follow the directions of the horny men jerking off to me. Sometimes he’d fuck me for their merriment. I talked dirty with a lot of men online.

It was then that I encountered something that would change my life.

One of the men I talked to said he was a Dominant, which was something I had never heard of before. He said he’d like to control me and would require immediate obedience. It sparked something in me. When we weren’t playing I was asking him questions about BDSM, and submission, and what my role in it would be if it were not online. He fed my inquisitiveness, and directed me to resources that I still use today.

Not only that, but the sex I was having changed. I started asking my husband to be in control in the bedroom, something he was not good at, but in play it was good enough. We bought velcro cuffs and a blindfold, and the first time I asked him to spank me I think I cried with happiness. I had found something of what I was missing. I asked for more and more of my husband while still playing on cam for the Dominant online.

After a few months it became apparent that my husband wasn’t as interested in my kinky games as I was becoming. I was so close to my perfect sex but it was still out of reach, and he was going to deny me that. Our relationship became strained and ultimately fell apart. Sex was just too important to me to continue with the sex I was getting. I knew what I wanted now, and if he wasn’t going to provide it, I was going to go get it. Without him.

We separated, because neither of us really wanted an open relationship of any sort (along with other issues), and we went our own ways. I hopped right on the dating circuit and found kinky partner after kinky partner. Each time getting closer and closer to the sex I knew I could have. Something was always missing from these experiences, but I wasn’t giving up. I’d risk everything to get what I knew had to exist.

In 2004 I found it, my perfect sex. It’s kinky, it’s sexy, it’s hot. It’s sweat-drenched in pleasure, and full of everything I thought sex should be. My fiance is the man who gave me the sex I’d always needed. I’ve never felt so fulfilled and satisfied in my life.

Hopefully I’ll continue to share my story of the men I had on the journey, and how I ultimately got my perfect sex and what that looks like.

Being a college student, I find myself amidst many lovely, thoughtful, and encouraging conversations. I have found that my professors, for the larger part of my academic career so far, have been very wonderful, and intelligent people. They have been great pillars to lean on during my college years thus far. However, I’m afraid that I cannot say such for my Literature professor this semester.

I had the displeasure of wearing my new Herringbone collar to class one day, and have my teacher decide to go off on a tangent about sadomasochism. He openly declared in the middle of class that everyone who is a sadist, or a masochist, is mentally ill. He took it one step further to say that everyone who is a sadomasochist, is not only mentally ill, but that they “all” want to murder, rape, or beat someone half to death to receive sexual gratification. In all honesty, he really made himself look like an ass. After thinking about this for some time, I realized that it isn’t just my professor who views it that way.

My second class that day was my Educational Psychology class. This one contained no discussion on sadomasochism or anything of the like. However, when I tried to talk to my professor after class, he completely avoided eye contact with me. He seemed very uncomfortable, and hurried through what I needed to talk to him about, and then took great strides to get down the hall ahead of me. I can’t help but feel like he was trying to do a psychological profile on me without even talking to me. To be honest, it made me really uncomfortable. Though, it isn’t going to stop me from wearing my collar any time I want to. It’s my life, not theirs. In these situations you really have to be able to stand up for yourself. If you don’t, your just going to be used as a door mat. I’ll be damned if I’m going to ever let anyone walk all over me like that. I spent a good portion of my teens being told by everyone, who I was and what I was going to do. I won’t tolerate that any longer. I am my own person. Just as you are your own person too.

Now that I’ve bashed enough of my professors, I’d like to make an honorable mention of one in particular that has always been open minded. Around campus he’s known as “Dr. Love”. He has definitely been, over the years, the student advocate to the University against issues. In the 70’s, he protected the students during riots, and disagreed with the University denying them their right to protest. These days he teaches classes on diversity and acceptance. He really is an extraordinary man, and the good he has done with his life is outrageous. He reminds me of being just an old hippie. Long grey hair, sunglasses, and wears flip-flops all year round. When it’s cold, he’ll wear regular shoes and change them out as soon as he gets into his class room. He also paints his toenails, which makes it fun to see what sort of color, or design, he has on for that day. He is the one teacher on campus that I know if I go to with a problem, like the one I’ve had with my previously mentioned professors, will understand.

The media seems to go out of its way to portray sadomasochists, such as myself, as “evil beings” who only wish to “hurt others”. Take “Criminal Minds” for example. Almost every show makes mention of “sexual sadists” when it comes to murder. The media’s idea of sadists and masochists does not do any sort of favor to our plight. If the time was spent, there are many more examples of sadism and masochism being shown in a very negative light that can be found, everywhere.

Sexual sadism and masochism is very misunderstood in our society. Being a sadist, or a masochist, or both, should not automatically classify you as a mentally ill person who is in danger of harming others. At least in ways they won’t like. I have never hurt another person during sex who did not like pain, and did not want pain. Nor have I ever nearly beat them to death in doing so. However, when you try to voice your opinion on the matter, you are automatically described as someone who is mentally unstable.

I wish that there was a way that we could educate people about being into “S and M”. Then again, I suppose it’s just the new big fad for people to “hate” on. Look at history. There has always been one group or another who’ve been persecuted because of either religious beliefs, sexuality, or race. Now that being gay/lesbian/transgender/bisexual is more acceptable, and people are beginning to understand it, they have to find something else that they feel is “out-right wrong”. I would love to say that one of these days, the world is going to be an accepting, loving world. That no matter what your difference is from the next person, you will be treated and respected as you would like to be. Sadly, this isn’t true. There will always be that human reaction to differences, that creates such situations like the one I had in my class room.

I am not ashamed of being a sadomasochist. It is something that I enjoy thoroughly. Despite what any sort of teacher, the media, or psychiatrist says, I find nothing wrong in being so. Everyone is different in their own way, and as long as it does not ruin the life of another, we should be left alone with our differences. Human nature is to not accept change, or differences. However, it is the changes in our lives, and our differences, that make us an original, diverse group of people. Without those changes, and differences, we would be a “black and white” sort of people, plain and not entertaining.

There is also a lot of propaganda when it comes to being a “Dominant” or a “submissive” person. It seems to be the general consensus outside of the BDSM community, that if you are a submissive person, you are so because you have been abused and beaten down into that position by your significant other. There are of course, situations where this does happen. These are not generally healthy relationships. If you are a submissive person, and are in a situation where you are being beat relentlessly by the person you think you love, you should take yourself out of that situation. It isn’t healthy. In a healthy Dom/me and sub situation, you should never have to fear for your life. You should be able to trust your Dom/me, and know that they will never brutally hurt you.

People don’t understand the amount of respect and trust that is contained in a Dom/me/me/sub situation. A submissive will always have their own mind, actions, and limits. They are in this position because they want to be, not because they were forced to be.

Being a dominant person, or a submissive person, is built into each person’s intended nature. Having that be part of your nature isn’t something you think of very often. But it is, just like everything else is. There are many times, however, that you cannot tell if a person is a submissive. Many tend to put on personas to hide themselves from people who are truly mentally ill, such as those who rape, murder, and nearly beat people to death. There are many walls we put up to protect who we truly are from people who wish to hurt us. I do not wish to say that there are not these types of people in the “S and M” society, because there are. However, it is only a very small portion of our society. Yet, because we have these types of people in our society, they are the only ones that get the limelight, and are exposed to the Vanilla Society. This creates fear and panic, resulting in negative feelings.

I am neither a Dom/meme, or a sub. I find myself to be more of a switch. There are some people who I am Dom/me-inant to the core with. Then, there are others where I find myself in the submissive role. With being a switch, I’ve learned how things are on both sides. I know what is comfortable for me as a submissive, and I know how far I can push as a Dom/meme. When it comes to “S and M”, Dom/me/me and sub, being consensual, being safe, and being sane is a must. Trust and respect are very important factors, and relationships can be often ruined by the lack of the three things previously mentioned. No one wants to ruin a good relationship. It just takes good communication, and the ability to let the other partner know what is too much, or too hard.

Since I am a switch, and a bisexual, many people claim that I just “can’t make up my mind”. Perhaps this is true, but it doesn’t change the fact that I love a broad range of experiences, and the only way for me to have that broad range is to be a switch, or be a bisexual. Being a switch still includes me in the BDSM community, just as being bisexual includes me in the LGBT community. There have been people that have told me in the past that I do not count in either community, because of my stances in them. Are they right? Hardly. Again, those who do not understand, or do not know, will pass judgments that they believe are right, even if they are wrong.

Vanilla society has many fears about the Dom/me/me and sub society. People have a tendency to fear what they do not know, and what they do not understand. I could spend the next five pages explaining their fears, but I will be respectful enough not to rant too much about the subject. Vanilla society has a generalized problem with “S and M”, and Dom/me/me/sub society, because they do not understand the fine line between “S and M” and abuse. Abuse is never consensual, and it hurts a person in ways that they do not wish to be hurt. Abuse tends to leave emotional scarring that will never really be healed. “S and M” is a consensual, safe practice, that is enjoyable for all those involved.

With the Dom/me/sub situations, Vanilla society rages about equality. In a healthy Dom/me/me/sub situation, there should be no worry about equality. There is still the healthy understanding that both parties are human, prone to mistakes, and are still equal on many levels. The only power a Dom/me has, is power that the sub wishes them to have. Power that the submissive completely trusts to allow their Dom/me to have, because they know their Dom/me will not hurt them. In these situations, a Dom/me should always have their submissive’s best interest in mind.

Vanilla society also tends to believe that all Dom’s are male. It’s quite obvious that they’re not. There is also the belief that every Dom/me is abusive, and only wish to hurt their sub. Both of which are completely untrue. As I have said before, in healthy relationships there isn’t the fear of being hurt. There is only trust between the Dom/me and sub, and if the relationship is a situation where the sub is receiving unwanted amounts of pain, it is unhealthy. No one should be in fear of being sent to the Emergency Room because of their significant other. Safety is a must. Being consensual, is a must. If these aren’t taken into consideration, there are many dangers that can arise.

In conclusion, people fear what they do not understand. This is why BDSM communities receive so much scrutiny. Those in Vanilla societies are eager to point their fingers, and bash anything that doesn’t fit into the perfect world that they believe that they live in. There will always be that group that is frowned upon. This year it’s people who are gay, people who are into BDSM, and when the fad of that wears off, it will be something new. So I simply wish to stress to everyone who doesn’t understand these situations, to learn about it before they decide to make their own decision on it. If you let media, and ideas of teachers who really don’t know, make the decisions for you, you will have a very skewed vision of the world.

Being who you are is very important because it is nature. Never let the thoughts and fears of others influence who you are in a negative way. Your differences, and your ideas, are what sets you apart from other people. We are not “cookie cut” humans. We come in a variety of shapes, sizes, backgrounds, and even sexual preferences. If we didn’t have these differences we would all be the same. I would personally hate living in a world where everyone is exactly alike. It would be dull and boring!

There will always be fears in Vanilla society about being into “S and M”, or being Dom/me/sub. What it boils down to, is how you react to the treatment they give. It seems to be that they get a thrill out of disliking you for it, and the better job you do avoiding letting them have that satisfaction, the better it will be for you.

If you practice BDSM, and the like, please practice it safely. Use your mind to decide if what you are doing is sane, and make sure that it is consensual. One day people will understand this community, and things will get better. It isn’t an easy road to travel down, but if it is what fits your fancy, to deny it is to deny yourself. It is as much a part of your nature as anything else in your life is. People are going to talk and “backstab” as much as they want, because it is in their nature as well. Harsh feelings and broken friendships are something that are always going to be there. I wish we could all grow out of the high school gossiping, judgmental bullshit we go through in our younger years, but not everyone does. There will always be that group of people who feel that another group should be persecuted because of their belief system, sexual preferences, or race. All we can do is preach to the choir, as I have done with this reading. Preach love, acceptance, and understanding to everyone about different lifestyles, and try to make the world a better place. Over all, an age old saying comes to mind. “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me. So tie me up and throw me down, and show me that you like me.”

How many of you remember Popeye’s catch phrase “I y-am what I y-am.”?

I think this sums up a person. I am what I am and your not gonna change me. I have a submissive personality, except when I’m PMSing. Then you just don’t want me around at all, lol. Now while I am a sub, I’m not going to let you or anyone else walk all over me. Just because I’m submissive, doesn’t mean I won’t stand up for myself. Yet many people believe that if a person is a sub it means they are. Just like many people think that if a person is a dom they’re bullies or abusive. Again this is not true. But the media and society have placed taboos on this type of lifestyle.

So how do you get your vanilla partner to try this type of play, especially if they buy into this stigma?

Well first you have to learn all you can about what you want, like, and what turns you on. Are you a dom or a sub? How far do you want to go? Do you just want to dabble, or actually get into the lifestyle? How do you feel about pain, or even adding other fetishes?

Once you know what you want, start slow. Try saying something like, “You know what I’d like to try tonight…?” Finish with, maybe … “letting you have your way with me”, or perhaps, “I’d liked to have my way with you.” They’ll probably be more accepting of this than, “I want you to tie me to the bed and fuck me senseless,” But then, you know better than me with your partner.

If he/she can get comfortable with the mild stuff, for example: tying you or being tied to the bed. They might be receptive to going farther. Talk, offer up info, show them that being kinky isn’t a horrible thing, and normal everyday people do it.

Here’s something that is very big, even if you know more and want to go fast into this. Let your partner move at his or her own pace. Every one learns at their own pace, so be patient. Talk with them, answer their questions, or help find the answers.

Ok, a couple tips for subs-

Try doing little things, like getting your partner’s drink or meals. Do things you know they hate to do. For example… I know my hubby hates to mow the lawn, so I do it for him. This can be applied in the bed room as well , do stuff they like. One example… my hubby likes BJ’s, so I give them to him whenever I get the chance.

Tips for Doms-

Biggie! Make sure your partner knows you’ll respect their wishes, and you won’t do things that are No-No’s. No means, NO! Don’t violate that or you’ll have problems. Also make sure that your partner knows that you respect them as a person. They aren’t going to be a sex object, for your pleasure, it’s a two way street give and take.

I’ll stand in the middle of the room like a petulant child, my fists and jaw clenched, my eyes set on some solid part of the room. I let the words shatter over my head, and feel the shards pierce my flesh, and dissolve into the floor with the pain. And then he yanks me back to the surface. Pulls me in for another dose. Refuses to let me slip away and ignore the filth pouring from his soulless eyes.

I know that he’s not there anymore. Or maybe it’s more that he is there in a much more intense, much more violent way. I know that he means most of the things he says the way he means “I love you” or “I love fucking you” and yet… he means them just the way he says them, too.

And I know there is a limit to what I can withstand. I feel it tearing at the frayed edges of my unnerved mind. And I stand there, with the gun in my hand, pulling the trigger.

A friend of mine, the other day, was talking about this couple she’d met. She said their dynamic was owner/property, but there was something off about it. She said it seemed like he didn’t give a rat’s ass about her, but she loved him fiercely, and hoped that one day, by becoming the perfect slave, she could make him love her. She said he’s an emotional sadist, and he’ll probably never love her, but he loves using the possibility to force her to do what he wants her to.

For a split second, I wondered if she was talking about me. If maybe she hadn’t somehow gotten the wrong impression, entirely, about my relationship with M. And then I brushed it off. Because, really, as much as I love her, if she can’t accept my relationship that’s her problem.

But from there, I started to wonder at my own emotional masochism. And I wondered just how deep I would allow myself to go.

Click.

He calls me pig whore. And he tells me I’m a piece of cunt. My pussy drips, and I watch him closely, bracing myself for his next move.

Click.

He steps on my face, and spits in my face, and shoves me to my knees. He pisses on me, and cums on me, and spits in my mouth. He hangs me up in doorways and beats me until I can no longer form a clear thought in my mind to answer him when he asks if I can take more.

My cunt aches, and I beg him to fuck me. He grins.

Click.

He shoves me on my stomach, rips my clothes off and takes me over and over, while tears stream down my face from the beating he’s just finished giving me. His hands grab welted flesh, and yank my body this way and that, his cock filling whichever hole is closest when he thrusts. When he’s finished he leaves me in a pile on whatever surface he took me on, covered in tears, spit, snot, cum and pussy juice.

“Filthy cum dumpster,” he hisses. “Nothing more than a hole to get my dick off in. Go clean up so you don’t get cum in my dinner.” And then he slaps my bruised ass.

I wash my face, and wipe my nose, and pull back the hammer again.

Click.

And then he laughs at me. Takes the gun from my hand. Pulls me into his arms and kisses my nose. He wakes me up in the morning with kisses, and cuddles, and a smile. And I start to wonder if he’ll ever let me go too far. I don’t think he could stand it.

But he loves to see me slowly unravel. To watch as I start to second guess myself. To be staring into my eyes the moment I acknowledge to myself that my only way out is his mercy. And eventually, he’ll hand back the gun, and we’ll begin again.

Click.

Last week, I wrote about how I react to the little things M asks me to do. And I got a comment that makes me think I didn’t really make the point I meant to. And it seems I made one that isn’t true.

Jessie said:

I just wanted to say I really enjoyed reading this post. There is so much here that I can relate to, from your not being a girly girl and just wanting to be comfortable to your relationship finding itself on the rocks due to your attitudes toward M. I also want to congratulate you on recognizing what was going on. I’ve been through this with my partner many times, to the point of asking her if she just wants to be the Domme and tell me what to do to her and when and how since whatever I ask seems to be wrong. It’s almost killed our relationship more than once (we’re actually sort of on the rocks as far as kinky play again over that one right now …) If you ask for help on the message boards, the general response you’ll get is to find another sub – but that becomes way more complicated when you start figuring in actual love and commitment. I do hope you and M can work it out!

After reading the post, and Jessie’s comment, M was… bothered. And rightly so. He wasn’t aware there was a problem! He certainly wasn’t privy to me questioning my desire to be a slave. Just the other night, I told him I want to be a slave! So I wanted to clarify for him and our readers.

There’s not a problem with our relationship. There’s a problem with me.

Things have been steadily changing between M and me. That’s normal. Everything in this world evolves. But the changes between us more recently have been rather extreme. And just when we both get settled into our new routine/dynamic/what have you, something happens, and we have to change again.

I’ve always been good at rolling with the punches… so long as the punches don’t disrupt my ultimate plan. For whatever. My day, our relationship, our future, what I’m having for lunch… Yeah. I’m that ridiculous.

For example, a while back M tasked me with making a menu for all three meals every two weeks, and from that, making a shopping list. I didn’t mind doing it. Even enjoyed it most times. And the twice-a-month shopping trips I envisioned this endeavor would result in had me giddy.

I can’t remember if he checked the menu when it was finished, but I doubt I ever put anything on it he wouldn’t eat. And every single time, our cabinets would be full of the food on the list, and I’d tell M what was for dinner, and he wanted something else. And more often than not, it was something we didn’t have, so we’d have to go shopping again.

I hate shopping. I hate wasting my time on something and watching it get scrapped even more.

And therein lies the problem. It’s not my time. And he doesn’t need to change what he does to avoid pissing me off. I need to learn to be happy spending my time however he wants.

We’re going through basically the same thing, now. I enjoy the things he wants me to do most of the time. They make me feel owned, secure, sexy, cared for. But he keeps coming at me with them when I’m not interested. And that’s my problem. We’re not husband and wife, where that’s concerned. We’re master and slave. And I should be happy to put aside what I’m doing to do what would please him.

I don’t question my decision to be owned, and I apologize if I gave that impression. My point was only that M put the thought in my head, and now I’m obsessing over it. But when it comes right down to it, I’m just a baby, and I need to get over myself. Half the point of this thing we do, for me, is that my time is not mine. Even when I really want it to be.

Jessie, this last part is for you, and if anything comes across as offensive, let me apologize now, because it’s not meant to be.

You’re right about the message boards. They frustrate me in a way I can’t describe.

to the point of asking her if she just wants to be the Domme and tell me what to do to her and when and how since whatever I ask seems to be wrong.

Honestly, that question gets my temper going like no other. At that point, I usually lose interest in trying to communicate. And I’m always half-tempted to say yes just to see the look on his face. It’s not fair, and it’s childish, but it is the reality of things.

I think the biggest change in our relationship is that M and I both used to just react with comments like that one, instead of trying to actually get to the crux of the problem. Now, we both try to listen to each other, and consider what we hear, before allowing ourselves to react, regardless of how it makes us feel. And this has made me feel safe digging into my psyche and figuring out why I’m acting the way I do.

I don’t know you, so maybe communication isn’t the problem. But I find nine times out of ten, it is. And even if it isn’t, it’s the best way to figure it out.

I hope this was helpful.

This question was put to me via a transgendered friend/co-worker who is also part of the lifestyle.  She had the same question posed to her by her doctor, who was trying to understand her kinks, and why she did what she did. I won’t go into the whole conversation, and what she and I discussed, but it made me think about what BDSM really means to me, and what it does for me.

The best way for me to start, especially if one is not familiar with the BDSM acronym, or what it REALLY is, is to define it to the best of my ability.

BDSM is a consensual lifestyle choice, or type of adult role-play between two or more individuals. The compound acronym, BDSM, is derived from the terms bondage and discipline (B&D, B/D, or BD), domination and submission (D&s, D/s, or Ds), sadism and masochism (S&M, S/M, or SM).

This definition is pulled from Wikipedia [see FULL article here] and will be able to give a good general overview of the lifestyle. All quotes and references therein are from reputable sources, especially Jay Wiseman, who has written quite a few books on the subject. Some may ask, “So what are you? You have such a strong personality, you must be Dominant.” Actually, I am what is called a “Switch”, more specifically a sub/Dom switch. This means I am pretty much a submissive person in most scenes and settings, though with the right person, I will switch and become Dominant. Most people who have known me for a long time before I started exploring and living this lifestyle, are surprised when I tell them what I am. They know that with my control-based OCD, that the mere act of giving UP that precious control is something that never comes easily; which is more than likely why most think that I am a Dominant.

Submission, to me, is one of utter trust. Trust in, not only the person themselves, but also in their ability to do what it is they may be doing in a particular scene, be it one on one, or in tandem with another Dominant. With that trust comes respect for that Dominant as well. If I cannot trust and respect the person, then how will I be able to fully submit? I want to be able to feel my heart and soul settle into a quiet space, where everything is just right and I am content through and through.  Still, I hold some small modicum of control in each situation. I control who I submit to, and the number of people that I will submit to is VERY few. When I think about it, there are only three to four people that I will submit to, and only one of them has brought me to the utter contentment that I described earlier. To give up that control to the chosen person is a relief, because in a way, I have been freed from my mundane “vanilla” responsibilities, and of having to always be on top of things. I can just let go and not worry that I will be chastised for it. When I submit, normally it is at a fetish event, be it a “public” party or a private event. At these events I will probably be spanked, flogged, maybe whipped, depending on the area. Eventually I want to be able to find a Dominant that will bring that full and utter contentment to me, and still allow me to Dominate submissives if the urge strikes me.

As for my Dominant side, it is less developed and honed like my submissive side. There are moments when I feel more Dominant, feel the need to control someone. I get a power rush from the feeling of being truly superior, and having that ability to control the submissive. I do take pleasure in spanking other submissives, and I have found that I enjoy receiving foot worship, thanks to another friend. I can’t JUST dominate any submissive that comes and kneels at my feet. That feeling of “this one I can play with” has to come over me. If not, I’m not into it, and both parties will more than likely walk away unfulfilled. But the one or two times that I have entered a Dominant mindset, I have felt empowered and in control. One time, a submissive was massaging and kissing my feet before suckling on each toe, which was intense, especially because my feet are normally EXTREMELY ticklish. I have also spanked and cropped another submissive, which was very fun, watching her ass go from white to pink to red. It was very satisfying to see the colors rise, and the spaced smile on her face afterwards. I don’t plan to really flesh out my Dominant side until I feel that my submissive side is better trained. One never stops learning, be it as a sub or a Dominant. But there are protocols and rules that need to be learned for both sides of the coin, and I don’t want to confuse myself.

There are people who say that being a switch is just someone who is confused, and will eventually find their “true” place on one side of the spectrum or the other. But I say that as there is fluidity in human sexuality, why would there not be fluidity in the BDSM world as well. I sometimes describe myself as an enigma wrapped in an oxymoron, and yes, I know how odd it sounds. It is who and what I am, and if the “true” Dominants, or “true” submissives, don’t like it and don’t want to associate themselves, that’s their loss. I cannot, and will not, change who and what I am to please people. I am always learning and always evolving, and that’s how it should be in all walks of life.

So to me, BDSM is an adventure and a learning experience. It helps me meet new and like-minded people, and I hope to someday meet my mate through this life.

Last night, M asked me why I always catch attitude when he tells me to put on my leather collar and cuffs.

Normally a question that accusatory would put me on the defensive.

What’re you talking about? I don’t catch attitude when you tell me to put on my collar and cuffs. Quit being such a baby.

But the thing is… I do catch attitude when he tells me to put on my collar and cuffs. And when he decides he’d like to see me in something other than running pants and a long-sleeved athletic shirt. And when he asks me to put on makeup. Particularly red lipstick and fingernail polish.

I am not, by any stretch of the definition, a girly girl. Occasionally, I want to feel pretty (“Pretty” will always be a word I associate with femininity, but that is not to say that a man –cis or trans– can’t be “pretty”.) so I’ll do my hair and face up, and search my almost-bare dresser (Have I mentioned I hate shopping? I’ll wear clothes until they literally fall apart before I’ll go shopping for new ones.) and closet for something not stained, and fairly feminine, to put on. But most of the time? I just want to be comfortable. And I’m comfortable in running pants and long-sleeved shirts. That’s probably part of the reason for the attitude over him having me wear lingerie. And the fact that it’s freakin’ freezing up here right now.

Well… and… I found my way back into not liking my body. What? I never claimed the confidence would last forever! Only this time it’s mostly stuff I can fix, if I could just find the time.

But the collar and cuffs… I don’t get it. I used to love them. I keep passing it off in my mind as a time constraint thing, but really… How long does it take to buckle on a collar and a pair of wrist cuffs? The other day, it was a comfort thing. For some reason, I was ridiculously hot in my usually freezing house, and leather really doesn’t help much with that. And the collar is way thicker than it should be for everyday use, but I have yet to find one I like enough to ask M if we can buy it. I may have to check out one of the custom collar stores around the web for that. Most of the sex toy stores I affiliate with don’t carry what I’m looking for. Even the kinky ones!

But sometimes the point of the collar and cuffs is to make me uncomfortable, and in those times, they certainly serve their purpose.

The next excuse I came to was wanting to have the blinds open, but why should that stop me? Nobody should be staring into our window hard enough to figure out what’s around my wrists and neck. And, like I said, I usually wear long-sleeves. And occasionally a black turtleneck sweater, with a big fluffy turtleneck that hides the collar. And even if I didn’t, what difference would it make if someone did figure out what they are? I mean, everyone knows M wears the pants. And they all know we’re kinky. So that’s not it.

The question that keeps circling my mind is Does it mean I don’t want to be a slave anymore, and I’m just not willing to face it?

I didn’t come up with that question on my own. M asked me if I had lost interest in being owned. Lately, all I’ve been thinking about is how much I miss the stranglehold he usually has on me, and the ritual we used to have in place, and really feeling like a slave. And it’s not really our tight schedule that’s gotten in the way of that, though we’d both like to pretend it is.

It’s my constant railing against him. My seeming inability to just gracefully submit to his will. My obvious disinterest in worshiping him the way we both claim to believe a slave should. My unmatched ability to make a person feel about two inches tall for daring to want something from me that doesn’t fit in with my immediate plan for myself.

The door to my cage, should I ever have one, will probably say, “Some slave.” Though it will have a different meaning entirely than the one intended over Wilbur’s door.

I have a lot of questions. I think if asked every question I had, SirX would have to start limiting the number of questions I can ask every day.  Most often my questions would fall under the categories: Can I do this? Did you like that I did that? What do you think of me?

Looking at these questions, I think, oh no, it’s all about me. Shouldn’t I be asking things like, “How can I serve you better?” oh crap- another *I* question. Geez girl, you must be the most selfish slave ever- all you think about is yourself- surely you must be doing it wrong.

In the class I spoke of in my past article, the instructor commented on her slave saying, “Did you see how nicely I ironed and folded you pants Mistress?” eagerly holding them up, to which she responded by smacking the pants to the floor and saying something along the lines of, “Yup!”

What I got from this, is that a slave should not draw attention to their service. Wow… the attention whore in me is already aching from that sentence. Last night I wrote something that directly pertained to my relationship with Sir, and how I feel about it. I posted it online, and then proceeded to say, “I wrote [this] Sir, did you see it?” He did not reply to my question. I feel that this is probably the same as the smacking the ironed, folded pants to the floor. Sigh.

My mind raced for a while after we stopped talking, and I thought maybe I should not have said that. Maybe I should have checked with him before I said those things about our relationship. What if he doesn’t want people to know about me. (yes, I really thought that!) And Oh no, I did that thing where I drew the attention to myself, and am asking him to validate me. Again!! Crap. crapcrapcrap.

Of COURSE he saw it. He watches me. He sees everything, oddly, but doesn’t point everything out. If he had a problem with it, he’d have said so. However here I am with another- you guessed it- question. It’s an *I* question. But that’s no shocker there now, is it?

So how do I go about NOT drawing attention to my service when I want to be noticed for it? I want to say, “Look what I did, aren’t you pleased with me?” Furthermore, I want him to say, “Oh Peanut, that is the most flat and perfectly folded pair of pants I have ever seen!!!”

That’s not right, is it?

It’s like when my cat kills something and leaves it for me to see. She looks up at me with those big eyes that say, “Mama- here! Now love me!” She’s a cat, that’s what cat’s DO. It’s not as if she can do much else, the lack of opposable thumbs and all. She does what is in her nature to do; she kills things, brings them to her owner, and presents them, wanting a good scratch behind the ears and some assurance that she’s the best kitty ever. It’s a gift, it’s her way of saying, this is what I can DO for you, so here… ta-dahhh… here’s a dead bird!  However, what do I do when she brings me dead things? I scream. I freak out, get pissed off and irritated. This is not something I ever asked of her. I didn’t teach her how to catch birds. Stupid cat, why are you bringing dead things into the house?? I take care of you and this is how you repay me? The cat, of course, can’t understand why I’m so irritated when she brings the dead bird in the house.

My service should not be akin to laying a dead bird on his feet. It is in the cat’s nature to do such things. I feel service is in my nature, but it’s a choice to give this to him. Service is a choice. I do it because it pleases me to please him, and I am grateful for the internal strength and confidence I get in doing things well. I need to remember that when I am asking him for needless validation. SirX does not need dead birds. We are in this relationship because he knows that I want to serve him. We have discussed this at length.
This, I suppose, is what training is for. If I want to present him with neatly ironed and folded pants, you can be sure that he has already taught me the exact way that he wants his pants ironed and folded. Once mastered, there is probably no question in his mind that I will do it exactly the way he has taught me, every single time.

Why do I need special points for doing it right?

This is the faith he has is me. He has faith that I will do correctly what he has taught me to do. He did not choose me because I serve- I serve because he chose me. I need to simply take pride in my role, do things as instructed, and know that he appreciates me for it.
I think I also need to stop letting my cat go outside.