Tag Archives: Friendship

Day 23


23) Is there anything about submission (yours or what you see in others) that you question, dislike or repels you? Was there a time you questioned or were resistant to your own submissive feelings?

I am a big fan of different strokes for different folks. However, there are limits to this. I believe in the safe, sane, consensual tenant of BDSM.. and while the sane part is up for debate, the safe and consensual are not.

The only time I have questioned another submissive is when they were going into truly unsafe situations… I had a friend at Bondage a Go Go when I started going early on who called herself a pain slut. In all reality she was a heavy bottom, but not a pain slut, and she pushed her body too hard to prove just how much she could take (because she wanted to be the best of all the subs… Subbies you know how this is…). To do this, she would eat AFTER bag and not have any food before, because she believed that it allowed her to take more pain. One night she did this and on top of this took several medications that left her not in her right mind, combined this with alcohol, and then went to go play… The partner she was playing with cut the scene short because they saw she wasn’t right, but it was one of the few times I have gone over and lectured another submissive, as well as her primary for letting her put herself in that situation.

I’ve also met many a young ‘sub’ that was “looking for her Christian Grey.” They are easy to spot in a dungeon setting. Usually younger, dressed to the nines in lingerie and brand new heels, walking around with a bit of a dear in the headlights look. These lost little ones me and a few other experienced submissives will sit down and talk to, and try to explain the difference between Christian Grey and real Doms. It’s why so many of us read the books, so we could know thy enemy and keep young, vulnerable subbies from getting hurt.

There is a difference between a submissive putting herself in danger because she is under some sort of influence (be it alcohol or some fictional character) and a submissive letting her Dominant push her. I have seen a couple scenes that have had me question whether or not an ambulance should be called. You sit, you watch, you wonder, but in those moments you know that an experienced submissive has not had alcohol or drugs before playing, because they want to be fully aware of their body and what is is going through. An experienced Dominant will be able to read their submissive’s body to pace the play out so that even if they’re pushing, it will be something they know that their submissive can take. And if something happens, if something gets pushed to far, everyone knows how to safeword, and will if they need to. You sometimes just have to trust that. And when you can’t, well, that’s what dungeon monitors are for.

You can’t always judge a book by its cover. James and I have made the dungeon monitors look up a few times, because he makes me howl. He will hit me hard enough that the sound of the crack will echo throughout the entire dungeon, and I in turn will scream like a banshee. He pushes me, and I let him push me. Everyone in that dungeon knows we’re experienced. The DMs have seen James for years in the scene, and while I haven’t been around for as long they know me as well. They trust that if I need to, I will red out. And I have in the past, with other partners.

As for my own submission… of course I’ve struggled with it. When my mother told me I could be anything I wanted to be I don’t think she pictured one of those things as someone who craved spankings, floggings and the phrase ‘good girl’. Strong, independent women are not supposed to want to kneel at their boyfriend’s feet.. I struggled most with something that has become one of my biggest kinks. The concept of being owned.

The collar. One of my biggest turn-ons is the thought that someone wants me enough, values me enough, that they want me to be one of their possessions. They want to own me. They will share, but I will be theirs to do with as they well. Coming to terms with wanting that, with craving that.. it took me some time. There is still a stigma to D/s, and to BDSM in general. It takes time to realize that the stigma is just something  you learn how to live with.. That it’s going to be part of your everyday life whether you want it to be or not.

It’s a matter of how you live with it that matters. I will never be ashamed of who and what I am. It has taken me a long time to get there, and I’ll be damned if I’m going back… But I’ve learned what to and not to share with people about who I am. Sometimes that makes me sad, that I can only be half of myself with people.

But then I rejoin my people… and I frolic in the dungeon. James makes me scream, and all is right with the world.

Yours, as always


Day 20


Day 20

Has your submission increased or decreased over time? Have you ever had to renegotiate your submission due to a change in your feelings or circumstance?

I wouldn’t say it has increased or decreased.. I would say it’s stabilized.

When Cal found me eons ago all he had to do was tell me that it was real for me to be all in. I had wanted it for ages… felt a need to submit that I couldn’t understand and couldn’t name at the time. I was one of those hopeless souls that clung to kinky novels and prayed that something, anything like that existed… And when it did I threw myself in full-tilt. So much so that I think even if Cal hadn’t had a significant other the mentor-ship would have ended. I wanted to swim in the deep end of the community when he was slowly dipping his toes back into the water.

I did… but perhaps not in the most healthy way. When Kane and I were together, we were basically 24/7. I would live at his house during the week while his wife was away and then go back to my place on the weekends. Certain things I loved.. I still love. I would have dinner waiting for him when he got home from work, along with me on my knees at the front door in lingerie. I would clean the house. He would leave me chores to do; exercise, do laundry, etc, and I admit weight wise that I was lighter then than I am now (and no I’m not happy about that dammit -_- But I’m a work in progress).

…I think we loved the fantasy of 24/7, but neither of us were ready to deal with the realities of it.. That eventually he would need to deal with the stress of a failing marriage, that I was too young realistically for him because he could never comfortably swallow that age gab… That I wanted children and he was past that age where that was going to be realistic.

It was a gradual shift. It started with me staying home two weeks and being with him for a week. Then five days. Then four.

Eventually the sleepovers stopped.. His life had become too hectic. There was too much stress at work to try to fit me in. And because he was my Dom, because I wore his collar, I trusted that it would all be okay. We talked about it all being okay. That I loved him and he loved me and that was all that mattered…

… This is surprisingly hard to write… It’s been about a year since things started falling apart. Since the downward spiral began.

I had to renegotiate the entire relationship in my head time and time again, not because I willingly wanted to and it was the healthy thing to do but because I had no choice… He was my Dom and my boyfriend. I had to trust that he was doing things for a reason at that it would all be alright. That eventually we would get back to Disney. In my head I explained away the way he treated me time and time again, something I’m incredibly conscious of now. Dominants are not gods, they are humans, and when they stop communicating they make very bad, very painful mistakes. Kane made a few. He is still my friend…but he very much shattered parts of me. That’s taken a while to heal.

The relationship with James is a different D/s dynamic than I’ve had before.. There is no label, bedroom only, 24/7, etc. I’m not in subby mode all the time. There are times when I am very much, and very happily, his girlfriend. And then he flips that subby switch. He can do it with a look, a tone, a glance, and I’m on my knees with my chest out and my back arched. It’s laced through everything for both of us..because kink is laced through our entire lives. What we do, how we both want to make our livelihoods, is saturated with the kink world, and rather than fight against it and try to create a separate persona we’ve both embraced it whole-heartedly.

Sometimes labels just don’t work.. When you remove some of them, you find the balance.

Yours playing catch up



It’s so easy to fall into routines. Wake up. Go to work. Go home. Crash. Wake up again, go to work. 

This summer has by far gone faster than any before it, and it hardly feels like a summer at all to me. I’m used to summer being this endless rest; four months where I can recharge my battery. Instead, I work my ass off and barely make ends meet. I find myself worn out by my job, as much as I love the kids, and excited for the chance to go home in two weeks. 

Two weeks. And then I get a whole nine days in Jersey. The last time for god knows how long. Thanksgiving? Christmas? I hope before that. I don’t know the next time I can get time off from work though. That I could get a whole week off is..amazing. 

I’m doing what I have to do. This weekend that means babysitting instead of going to the Citadel and flying. I didn’t get a chance to buy advanced tickets to the party at Alchemy tomorrow..and so I won’t be going to that either. For the next three weeks I don’t get to play..for various reasons. I’m gone to SoCal next weekend for birthday shenanigans and then i’m home. I WILL be twitching by the time I come back, and will need some serious play time with someone willing to take a firm hand to me.. any takers? 

Speaking of firm hands… wear has also meant both knowledge and built up resistance. I don’t flinch at hard spankings anymore, although I do cry out. Kane very rarely out right hurts me (and never does he harm me), but his spankings have bruised me to high hell, and his slaps can sting. There was one night where he got me to subspace by spanking alone, and then we went and played at the Citadel after, with my ass still raw… Goddes above did that hurt… It was the closest I’ve ever gotten to yellowing with him. After that I can take more. I scream, I cry, but I do not squirm away. 

I’ve had other hands touch me as well.. and there are times when that itch appears. The reminder that I am indeed poly, and need to play with others. There are times when I miss Cal’s style of domination a lot. He is incredibly formal compared to Kane, with proper table service and positions. He taught me a little before the mentorship ended..not much, and Kane has no interest in such things. Cal can also be…colder, more removed. He and I have yet to play properly..and there are times when my mind goes to bad places. Breath play. The violet wand. Marks on my body for weeks. How far would he push? I don’t honestly know. 

It’s fun to poke each other though. The playful nature remains in our conversations. He poked me today after I hadn’t posted a blog entry in a while and he wanted to make sure I was still breathing. I didn’t realize until we started messaging back and forth just how much I had missed him, even though I know he is continually a message or a text away. Send up the Bat signal and he’s there, the protective man that brought me into this kinky world. 

There’s something about talking to Cal that resets me; gets me to breathe easier. Perhaps it’s because I know he won’t bullshit or placate me. He always tells me straight, even when he knows it will hurt. Perhaps it’s because I know if anyone seriously hurts me Cal is likely to magically appear and break his jaw… There’s also the factor that I still absolutely trust him, and still have quite a bit of loyalty towards him… Regardless, we made vague plans to see each other in the coming week. Something to break up the monotony of my summer, and an opportunity to retrieve the art supplies currently living in Cal’s storage shed. I need to start working again. 

Thanks to Kane I will have the opportunity. My 23rd birthday is in exactly ten days. It will be my first birthday away from both of my parents..and the first birthday in a long while where I will receive an actual gift from anyone (that’s not to say that my parents didn’t make a big deal of my birthday growing up. They did. But the gifts usually consisted of a family party and cake.). He’s giving me the opportunity to work again, in the form of a 24/7 studio pass to a clay studio.

I’ve missed the feel of wet clay between my fingers; the cathartic release that it gives me. I am very much determined to get into grad school yet again, and that means making new work. 

I am tired, but I am not uninspired. Being with Kane makes me extremely happy. There’s a security, a rightness, in curling up in his arms at the end of a night. He says I give so much to him in my submission… but in truth it is simply my nature with him. 

In my routine I’ve developed an incredibly comfortable rap pour with the man I love. With him I can be completely myself…and I admit, I push my limits with him in ways I wouldn’t with other Doms. I act, dare I say, bratty at times, pushing him to one day go through with his threat of tying me to his bed for an entire evening. I’m sure he will one day, and I will relish every moment of it. I tickle. I poke. I play with his beard. I giggle, shamelessly, and watch that wicked gleam appear in Kane’s eye that means my ass is about to turn bright red from a beating.. 

I can go without the play parties when I get that most evenings. He picks up the pieces when I fall apart. He listens, always, when I need to talk. He’s not just a Dom.. he’s my boyfriend as well. Having that relationship where we can just sit and talk for hours on top of having incredible sex.. He helps to ease the wear. To remind me that I’m still breathing. That it will still be okay. It’s so easy to get lost in the sanitary he offers. 

Which is why it’s good when Cal pokes me from time to time. Otherwise the relationship hibernation would get me. And then the wear. And then I would probably suffer burnout. 

No burnout for me. I refuse. 

A rest would be nice though… a couple days just curled up in Kane’s arms.. and then flogged, and then fucked… 

I promise, I will get better at updating and actually typing about topics I want to discuss, not just rambling about my personal ish.






I am not very good at meeting new people. Im an introverted extrovert..if that makes any sense. Getting me to say that first “hi” is excruciating. More often than not you will find me in the corner, alone, with a book and quite content to be so when I don’t know the people there with me. 

However, once I am in my core group and I know the people it’s a different story. I am loud, obnoxious in a particularly Jersey way, rambunctious, exceedingly feisty, and all around pixie like. There are reasons my friends call me pixie and little imp. 

I get this way when I let my guard down; when I let people in. 

The first time I ever really let someone in I was twelve, in a big group of friends but near the fringes (you know, those middle school clicks? Think back, waaaaay back). On the fringes I became friends with two girls. Ones friendship was casual, another member of the group. The other became my first partner in crime. 

D had issues, she always has. She had a rough upbringing with a mentally unstable mother and divorced parents. Her dad has always wanted more for her than he had, and she has instead tried to closely follow in his footsteps. Her existence isn’t complete without a partner, and the level of codependency in her relationships is a level I’ve never really been comfortable with. 

Despite this, we’ve been friends for over a decade now. I’ve stood by her through breakdowns and suicide attempts when there wasn’t a man standing there yet. I got the frantic sobbing phone call when her mother kicked her out, and helped cover her ass when her mother started going through her shit. I sat next to her and cut when she cut, trying to show her that self-harming wasn’t just harming her. I still have the scars on my wrists, covered by tattoos. 

When I moved from Jersey to San Francisco I expected distance to form between us. At this point I had lived away from home for a good four years, having spent the time in Boston for my undergrad. We were used to the distance game, and we had gone months without speaking and then would suddenly reconnect. Our friendship was just..constant.

However, when I moved we were already having issues. Her boyfriend… does not like me, and the issues go way back.

When we all were in high school together he was the delinquent. He would sit in the back of our history class and attempt to light our hair on fire while D and I sat next to each other passing notes. His behavior with us got him expelled. We both reported him to the principal and he was just..gone for years. The two of them reconnected about 3 years ago, which involved D ending the relationship she was in to pursue one with him… and it’s been history. They are very much in love, nauseatingly so, and I support her happiness, but he has continually lashed out at me since they got together because of issues from our past. 

I do not hold grudges. It’s too much of a burden and takes up too much of my energy. I don’t like grudges. I don’t see a need for them. I am not at all the same person I was at fourteen, and so why would I keep issues from that time? I have no issues with him. I barely remember fourteen, it was so bad; I can’t imagine how it was for him. 

He has called me every name in the book, especially when we go drinking together (which happens when I go ‘home’… there’s nothing else to do in Nowhere, NJ unless you’re going into the city), and yet I’ve tolerated him. 

On top of all this, D has struggled with school, and with finding a career. She excelled in high school, loved it, while I wanted nothing more then to get the hell out as soon as humanly possible. My nickname in high school was Shadow, because I was D’s little dark shadow while she was blonde and fair and shining. I never minded. I knew it wasn’t my environment and that I would be leaving soon. She, however, never adjusted to life after high school. For the longest time she was the artist and I was the writer..and then somewhere along the line it switched. I got into art school. She got rejected. Again. And again, and again, to the point where I knew better than to tell her when I was having success. I didn’t want to rub her nose in it. Besides, she was having success in the romance department when I was either in a clusterfuck or on my own, right? 

Over my spring break, I went home. I saw D briefly when I went into the city to the Met and we chatted, as we are want to do, and caught up a bit. She told me about a few issues she was having, and a new job she was starting. I mentioned having met Sir, and that I was seriously considering going that direction. 

She was..horrified. Now D is not a traditional girl when it comes to most things. She loves horror conventions, zombies, vampires, Wicca and witchcraft, and all those screaming goth music bands that I can only listen to in small doses. I thought an alternative relationship, especially coming from me who she always knew had a kink edge, wouldn’t be too hard for her to swallow. 

WRONG. WRONG all over the place. She was out right disgusted when I told her about the age difference between Sir and I. And the fact that he had children? How could I even consider being with a man who has another woman’s children to care for? She didn’t care what the arrangement of our relationship was, just that I wanted to be in it and was willing to throw away two and a half years with Jason for it was enough to disgust her, and she told me this before I left. 

I mentioned Sir one other time to her, when I was sure that I would pursue the relationship with him. When I was sure I wanted to belong to him, to be his submissive. Jason was coming to visit for a week during his spring break, and D had texted me telling me good luck and to do what I knew was right. I told her what I thought was the right thing to do… and she shut down. She pulled away, wished me the best of luck, and disappeared after telling me that I should definitely not get serious with Sir, and that he should be a toy, a sex object and nothing more. I was… a little flabbergasted, and told her as much, and was promptly told to fuck off. 

Since then, the two of us have gotten worse. We barely talk..and the moment anything gets hard and I make the mistake of posting it on Facebook (root of all evil, naturally) she will take the opportunity to throw in a dig, like “welcome to the real world, princess. You’ll get used to it. It’s not always a privilege life, is it? All things can’t go your way” etc. Why? Why kick me when I’m already down? I don’t understand. That’s not what a friend is supposed to do.

D plays passive aggressive when I’ve never had the ability. I’m an up front, honest person who’s very much a “take it as you see it” type. She’s a brilliant mind fucker. I’ve seen her do it to others who have crossed her, and on rare occasion to those who have crossed me. However I’ve never seen her try to mind-fuck me… and wonder sometimes how our friendship has gone so downhill. 

It bothers me. This is the person that I have been closest to the longest, and for a long time was my partner in crime. Yes, we have had our ups and downs, but I never thought she would be so disgusted with an aspect of myself when she herself has admitted to being a submissive in bed. What is so wrong to her about me being one in and out of bed? It’s my identity, not hers. I’m not dragging her down with me, and I won’t contaminate her precious monogamous relationship with my poly one. I’m not forcing my lifestyle on her, or even talking about it anymore. I don’t post my relationship all over Facebook or the internet in general.. In fact I’m exceedingly private about it. I talk about it here, in my journal, and to a couple of close friends and that’s about it.

Ending a ten year friendship feels like a divorce. It shouldn’t be done lightly, because it’s very hard to come back from. Do I want to burn these bridges? Do I hope this will be another one of our cycles, where our friendship ebbs and flows and eventually regulates again? 

Right now, my life is good. I start a fantastic job on Friday. I’m finishing my last semester strong, making work I’m proud of, and I get to spend time with a fabulous man this weekend. I get something that I have been craving for quite some time, and finally can put a missing piece of my puzzle in place. My parents and most friends are accepting of my lifestyle, and have only been supportive, or at least their normal selves. 

It’s just D who lashes, who bites and stings, when she knows that I have enough ammunition against her to blast her from the sky. The difference between her and I is that I would never use it. She would, and has… I have a lot of thinking to do when it comes to her and I, and whether this should continue, or if going our separate ways would be best. 

There is a reason her nickname is Dragon. She bites. 

Yours, bruised but far from broken