High Maintenance Submissive Strikes Again, Or I Really Suck at Blog Titles

Two D/s couples I know who have broken up in as many days, both for the same reasons: she was a brat and by she, I mean the /s part of the dynamic. Both men had different reasoning for breaking up with their bratty girls, which I won’t belabor here, but needless to say, I was more than a little shocked, as I always am. D/s is viewed differently by all participating and non-participatory parties, but I’ve never found brattiness to be a reason to leave someone who you are in love with. If it wasn’t a D/s relationship, would you leave them then too? Or is the infraction merely amplified because as a Dom you’re worried that if she doesn’t lay down and obey well enough, somehow you are somehow “less than”–less than a man, less than a Dom, etc (I’m using gender stereotypes here, maybe, but this really applies to all D/s gender combinations, the ones I’m addressing just happen to be Male D and Female s)?

What’s Her Whimsy, Dr. Kinsey?

I like to hear the tension in his voice, when he hits me with the crop, when his bare hands spank my ass. I like to feel the heat of his gaze, as he takes in my long, long socks, and my cute, cute panties, beneath my too short hemline. I like it when I dress so cute and slutty while he wears a suit. I like to feel naked amidst his formality. I like it when he’s the Daddy and I’m his baby girl, and I act up and I act out and he disciplines me sweetly. I like it when I need it because I need to learn. What I really like, what hits me hard and deep in my body, is to hear his control begin to slip.

What I like is the competition: when he tells me just how shy and ornery I’ve been becoming, and I feel the need to prove him wrong. I’m not bad, and I can prove how good I am. It may take some hard, some quick, some unforgiving cuts of the cane and slaps of the hand, but once I hit sub space, I will prove it to you, with my submission, with my devotion, with my desire.

Lock and Key and Gilded Cage

I do my best to control
imprison, punish, stifle
that naughty little organ
of mine
the one responsible for
most of the pain
around these parts
but sometimes
it escapes
and levels my tightly kept
little world
in a matter of seconds,
it grows and grows to
bursting
and it flies like it will never come home
again
And then:
the trouble starts.

Then You’ll Be Treated Like One

Selected Scenes from Punishment Central, or
How I Couldn’t Make This Shit Up if I Tried:

Well If You’re Going to Act Like a Little Girl…

It’s been a long couple of weeks, and regrettably I haven’t had much time for anything but work and studying; I haven’t even been getting to the gym or the pool as often as I like. That means important things and people sometimes get pushed to the back burner. And even though I haven’t had much time for him, he has made time for me and he has made sure that I think about him in small moments during my day. We have had small meetings before the sun rises, in which he seduces me fully, but leaves me wanting more. We have had momentous meetings in which he tells me that he loves how disheveled I am in the mornings, while ruffling my hair (messy as a lion’s mane) and my dress (hastily thrown on) and watching me climb languorously back to bed before my alarm harkens the beginning of my day. He has tasked and untasked me. He has seen me wriggling in agony, and he has sent short messages, asking of my progress and my well-being. In passing we have shared appetizers of real interaction: new music and quips about shitty work days, quick anecdotes and meaningful words.

So when we finally did get a chance to play, I was appalled to find myself in one of my moods.

In Every Sense of the Word…

The Darling Theo has been sweet enough to nominate me for the Sensual Blogger award. I quite enjoy the award, as I often indulge in sensory experiences. And thank you, Theo, love. I do hope I live up to the award.

Da Rules:

1) Thank the blogger who awarded you.
2) Answer 7 questions
3) Write to the prompt given by the award-giver
4) Spread the love. <3

And Every Bite I Gave You Left a Mark

If you asked me the day before, if he’d leave me tied up, alone… in the dark… I probably would have told you no. Little did I know how wrong I was.

While I laid in the dark, half-sleeping, perhaps half-awake, many thoughts ran through my head. I stayed deep in sub-space, my body quiet, almost dormant. But my mind raced. I wondered at how long I laid there. I wondered if he’d truly leave me alone. I wondered if he remained in the room, watching me in my struggle, in my experience. I wondered if he would come back. Eventually, my brain went as silent as my body. I felt no pain, no discomfort, I wanted for nothing, so deep in my mind I was.

I’ll Be Your Bad Girl, I’ll Prove it To You

He had a plan for me.

How often do I ask myself about the limits of a relationship? How far can you trust someone? How far can you trust yourself? How do you know it will be okay when the person you trust holds your life in their hands? How deep can that person take you–your body, your mind, your spirit, until you break? How deep can Bondage, Discipline, Dominance, Submission, and SadoMasochism take you? How much of myself can I give to a man… and how do these fetishes, these sexual practices, these urges of mine allow me to keep on giving?

A Moment

Hello, Lover, Best Friend, Sir, Daddy, Darlink. It’s officially your birthday and I wanted to take a moment to acknowledge (publically[even if it is my super secret sex blog]) my deep and abiding love, respect, adoration and desire for/of you.

You’re brilliant, my love. Please don’t ever stop being you. Happy Birthday.

Xoxo

The Mouse in the Lion’s Paw

Sweet, little mouse, he called me. Sweet, little mouse. He teased and he tormented me. He kissed and he nibbled at my lips and my earlobe, his hot breath caressing and seducing me. He made dark promises over hungry lips and flesh. He had a fun idea, he said. And some pretty new toys to play with. He had ideas spinning around his head and it drove a line of fear and a line of desire straight through me.

He made dark promises and gave me a task for the next day: to edge myself slowly, nothing rough and nothing raw, once on the hour, every hour, but no sweet release for his sweet, little mouse.

He had a plan for me.