Exploring My Submission: Journaling Exercise #4 & #5

Do you switch into a dominant role at any time? If you are in a domestic discipline relationship, are there things that you maintain control over? Are you a “switch” in BDSM terms? If not, have you ever thought about it or given thought to why it’s not for you?

Being a mom of two kids is more than enough to squelch any dominant urges I might have. Sexual dominance has never appealed to me much. I've tried it, topped a couple of times, just to see if I'd like it, and I really don't like the person I was when I was in that headspace. I was a total bitch and I don't like that word at all or what I was. It wasn't me.

There will always be things that I 'maintain control over' to some degree. My contact with my family, my children, and such. There will be times when I have to be the one that's in control of the situation, as much as I dislike it. That's just my life. I can't live in a bubble.

I don't at all consider myself a switch, I am capable, but it's not healthy and not desired.

Have you been or are you in a dominant/submissive dynamic relationship or is this new to you? Have you been in more than one D/s relationship? How were they the same? How were they different? What is unique about your relationships in your mind?

I have been in what was, on the surface a Dominant/submissive dynamic relationship before, but it was not nearly to the depth of what I am in currently. I consider that more training as I learned a lot about myself while I was there, and about BDSM as well. I've had play partners along the way that have helped me because of my friendships with them and my relationships with them as well had a vague aspect of D/s. All relationships do to some degree, but I was made aware of it. It made me think, made me consider my behavior more because of my relationship with them. I attempt to keep that perspective with all my relationships now. To know where I stand and act accordingly.

My first D/s romantic relationship was turbulent and foolish. I felt I was being forced into a mold made for someone else... and I still wanted it because I wanted to please the dominant in the relationship. None of us knew what we were really doing, what we really wanted or what we could really offer, but it helped us all learn. There are still some unseen scars to fade from that for me, but with time, the scars either become a reminder of lessons learned or a beautiful symbol of my journey. Often both.

My current relationship is more... thought through. Not a mere impulse, I've carefully considered all that I've learned that I can offer and all that I now know that I need and have found that they match well with my Sir. I've never felt more free because I am not only accepted for who and what I am, but I am cherished. Exactly as I am. Will some changes be made? Well yeah. Life is change. I'm still learning, but I know more now than I did then. Enough to accept that I'll always be learning and to appreciate that fact.

Random common factor: both dominants I've had have both been HEAVY coffee drinkers....

The odd thing is that with both relationships neither were intentional... at least on my part. The relationship was purely platonic to start. Looking back, I feel that it might not have been completely so on the part of my first dominant, but that is past. I slid into lust and didn't restrict myself to keep my safety in mind. I gave too easily. With E, the relationship was also purely platonic in the beginning with the intent of friendship and rope practice, but there was little slide in this... it was more like being plunged beneath a waterfall. I wasn't even attracted to him at first, then when I saw him again, my body went haywire and I just had to catch up to it. I held back, because he had made it clear that he wasn't interested in anything more than a friend and a practice rope bunny, but apparently he fell too.. (I'd like to hear/read his side of this...) because the next thing I know he's telling me that he wants me for more than just a bit of rope and play. The thrill that ran through me when I read his message, "I want a some sort of a claim on you" is a memory I cherish. Talk about a SQUEEEE! moment...

A Little Remembering

In ten days my contract with E will be up.

We're working on developing a more customized version for a longer duration, but it's hard to believe that those 90 days have already gone. Time is such an odd thing. It seems like so little time has passed, but it doesn't feel like there was a time before this. And that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. 

But with that in mind, E asked me a while back to write a little recollection of the first time I called him "Sir". I figured I'd share it, since I'm feeling a little nostalgic right now. 

Hide and Seek

I remember the intake of breath as he pressed me down to the floor. I remember the way I dug my fingers into the carpet.  Do I remember what brought this on? Not really, that seems to be erased from my mind, but I remember the first strike, I think. It blurs after that.

It had been a long time since I’d been in such a position, months. And there were months then years before that time months ago. I wasn’t going to be easy this time. I had given in easily before and look where that got me. I may have to earn my place, but, dammit, he was going to have to find it first.

I wanted to say it. With each question he asked, I wanted to release that one little word, but I bit my lip instead. I “mmmmhmmm”ed and “uh huh”ed and nodded and he even drug out a few sharp yesses with inquiries on my content and my enjoyment while he left pretty marks on my ass from I wasn’t sure what at the time. There was some spanking involved and I squirmed my way across the floor as is my habit. I think he made me crawl at one point. But there was that crystal moment that remains so clear in my mind. I don’t recall what question he asked. I don’t remember why, but I’m thinking he’d caught on to my game. I found myself with his hand in my hair and his face near mine after one of those truncated yesses and a sharp strike to my bottom, edging toward my thighs.

“What?” he asked.  He had been talking to me the entire time, some of it I actually heard, other was just his voice running a background for my responses to each impact.

“Yes,” I replied a bit louder and with a little more bite in my voice. Repeat of the blow in almost the exact same spot. He just looked at me and waited. Another. I don’t remember if he said anything at all that time, but he found where I had hidden it.

“Yessir.” And it got the best response I could have hoped for in his “Mmmm. Good girl… Very good girl.”

I have no idea what happened after that. The bubble of this memory pops here, but he found where I’d hidden the “Sir” and he’s not likely to let me forget it. Not that I’d ever want him to.

damnable rain

    rain, well it depends on what kind of rain, but days like today? the drizzly almost miserable kind? make me twitchy. usually one of the few times i'm actually on edge. i can't be still. very little satisfies me. my mind bounces around the confines of my skull and i don't finish most of what i start. i think too much and do too little and, in thinking, i want.
    today i've closed my eyes a hundred thousand times and relived snapshots from yesterday. of his hand on my throat making me drift. of his voice in my ear telling me exactly what i am to him. of the weight of him pressing me into the mattress. of the pleasure in his voice as i cry out with the delicious pain he brings me. and his taste. mmm the gift of his cum. (oh, i know, it sounds corny, but it's how i feel.) sometimes i've closed my eyes and let myself remember and found myself responding all over again though there's no pain to greet the arch of my back and the lift of my ass, no flesh to meet the press of my lips or the sweep of my tongue. it sends my mind off whirring, trying the ways to get that taste on my tongue again.
    it makes me want to scream in frustration and pull my hair.. but i'd like that too much. instead i've wandered the house doing bits of this and that and chewed my lips. as if every movement isn't a reminder. i'm to the point that i can feel the aching throb of my pulse in my tender swollen pussy... and writing that didn't help either.
    i'm glad i'm not with him today. we haven't known each other long enough for me to be comfortable being this way with him. i open myself with almost no reservation when i'm with him, i can't seem to help it,  and, were i to do that now, i'd be... wild, unable to control myself, and completely too aggressive. i usually find my submission in peace and pain and an easy giving, but today it would have to be a fight. and oh how i'd relish it. damn the bruises and the marks...who cares if i'd hurt to the point of barely moving after? i'd give just to see how much i could take.... as it is now i pace the confines of my vanilla cage and gnaw at my wrist hoping my teeth don't leave marks too noticeable...