Tag Archives: love

Fifty Shades of Shit

IMG_5090

Before I start this rant (and oh believe me, there will be a rant) I invite you all to check out the blog of someone much more eloquent and knowledgeable than myself. He also writes from a Dom’s perspective, which is not something you come across often.

http://domrant.com/2015/02/fifty-shades-of-fucked-up/

He hit on a few things about Fifty Shades that I wanted to address … But as a submissive I have a whole other list of issues on top of these.

I admit that I struggled to get through the book. I started it and put it down several times in the course of the last three years, finally biting the bullet and charging through it when my mother informed me that we would be seeing the movie next time I was in Jersey. I wanted to see how much alcohol I would need to get through it.

I consider myself a well-read individual. I went through a phase in middle school and high school where I would gobble about a book a day down. I have never had to look up so many word definitions for a single book in all my LIFE. Yes, Ms. James, you are very smart. Clearly you’ve shown this with your fancy big words. This was just a knit-picky thing through the majority of the book, until the second to last chapter or so, the scene where Ana is flogged.

This one little scene, and one little vocabulary slip, showed just how little research Ms. James did into actual BDSM. She insists on calling the ends of the flogger fronds. They’re tails. Nothing fancy. Occasionally I’ve heard the business end referred to as lashes. Again. Common words you don’t need to Google in order to understand their meaning. Literally if you Google “what are the ends of a flogger called?” this is what you will find. Why use fancy words for absolutely no reason, to the point where they actually take away from the authenticity of what you’re writing?

Now then, let’s move onto Mr Fifty Shades himself, Christian Grey. I am a submissive woman, attracted to Dominant men. I am not attracted to Christian.. For quite a few reasons. One being that the way he approached Ana would be the opposite of any Dom I have ever met.

A good Dom would sooner cut off their manhood than try to change their submissive’s nature. I have had Doms as both friends and lovers and they’ve all said the same to me.. That they fear their lovers getting consumed by the relationship. That they want their lovers to serve and be themselves and not completely deny their personal needs in order to fulfill their Doms.

Most of all, no self respecting Dominant that I know would EVER ask a woman to submit who was NOT A SUBMISSIVE. “You are completely inexperienced and know nothing else… I know this is kinky and taboo but screw anything vanilla and try it my way”. Yeah. No.

Christian hounds Ana. Stalks her. Allows her no breathing room to figure out her own sexual identity and instead attempts to mold her to his. Wrong. Wrong all over the place.

One thing I want to address before moving onto Ana’s character flaws is that you have to be “50 shades of fucked up” to be into BDSM. Speaking from personal experience, it takes a lot to come to terms with taboo sexual desires and accept yourself as you are. There is such a stigma attached to kink, to someone being twisted enough to want to be beaten, or want to hit someone.

I grew up in a stable, loving home. My parents are still happily married. I can count the number of spankings I got growing up on one hand and was never hit in any other way as a child. I have no daddy issues, get along great with my parents, and still talk to them at least six times a week even though I live 3000 miles away from them.

And yet I get pleasure from being taken over someone’s knee and spanked until my ass is bright red. I love being bound to beds. I crave the bite of a flogger, a hand wrapped around my neck and buried in my hair, pulling it. I get GREAT pleasure from anal sex. I get gratification from getting on my knees, crawling between my Dom’s legs, and pleasuring him like no one else can.. Etc etc

I’m not saying my kinks are normal. I know they are far from it. But I don’t have some fucked up past that brought me to want this. This is just in me. It’s a part of me like my height, like my interest in art or my bookworm personality. I’m a submissive. I’m an artist. I’m a night owl. It’s a segment of what makes me, me. And it’s not for anyone else to judge, because I’m not going to be judging you if you think vanilla missionary is the most fulfilling thing in the world. If it is for you, fantastic. Different strokes for different folks. But it took me, as it’s taken others before me, a long time to come to peace with our kinky selves. It took many of us a whole to realize we WERENT fucked up. We were just different. And different is good. Different is what makes this world exciting.

So, Ms. James, don’t you dare turn our different into a horrible vice made for fucked up people. Because our different can be beautiful.

Now, to address Ana.

As I’ve mentioned, I identify as a submissive. I get pleasure from pleasing others in any number of ways. I love cooking for Kane and helping him when he desires my assistance just as much as I enjoy serving him in the bedroom. It’s part of me, part of my nature, and comes out even when my clothes are on.

This is not something anyone has morphed me into. This is something I’ve figured out about myself through time and relationships.

Ana is not a submissive woman.

It’s mentioned over and over in the book and the movie. She gets no pleasure from it. She does not want to do it. She is merely a lovestruck idiot who wants to keep her man.. “Red Room of Pain”. Do you KNOW how much fun I could have in that room??! That playroom is a submissive’s dream, and yet it terrified her.

I’m not even going to touch on the fact that the twisted perverted figure of Christian corrupted the so-virginal-she’s-never-orgasmed Ana. Really. Can we get any more archetypical?

There’s a big word for you, Ms. James, and it makes sense.

Still, with all this, I trudged through the book, and it was bearable until the last fricken chapter. When Ana asks for punishment.

Punishment is not fun. I still flinch every time I see a riding crop. No sub likes actual punishment. It means we’ve screwed up. We disappointed our Dom. We did wrong. But it is a quick, cathartic way to make everything alright again. We go through the punishment and then all is forgiven. Past sins are gone and we go on with a clean slate.

This is not explained at all in the book, and so Christian comes off as a twisted fucker who wants to hurt women.

Which, in part, he is, but still.

Ana does something very stupid, as an inexperienced not-subby woman. She asks for the worst punishment he can give her. The most painful.

Do you think we get this often? The worst? Doms don’t like doling out the worst any more than subs like receiving it. It means there’s been a big fuck up. It will hurt like hell and require aftercare for both Dom and sub.. Because it’s emotional. It’s hard. And it’s trying.

She asks for the once in a blue moon big fuckup punishment. And when he gives it to her, and then reaches to hold her for aftercare (again, not explained or touched on in the book) she calls him a monster. And I wanted to hit her. Really hard. Because I am protective of my Dom, and of Dominants I am close to. They are not monsters for giving punishment. She knows nothing. RAWR.

I want to touch on the movie quickly at the end of this post.. Yes. I sat through it. It wasn’t as horrible as I expected… The actors had no chemistry and she had an ass double for the kinky scenes.. But the sex scenes surprisingly turned me on. The time line was jumbled and made little sense.. But that wasn’t my biggest problem.

My biggest problem with the film was that Christian could not do THE VOICE. The almighty Dominant panty disappearing voice.

EVERY Dom I’ve met, and frankly every lover I’ve met (good, bad, or indifferent in the sack) has a sex voice. Where suddenly they sound like they’re coated in honey. Every word is sweeter. You hang on their every syllable in anticipation of what is to come.

He didn’t do that. Sex orders and whispered desires were said in a monotone. This made me want to scream in frustration.

All in all, my main problem with 50 Shades (besides the piss poor writing) is that it is marketed as a BDSM novel. This is NOT an example of a D/s relationship. I love books that are. If any of you have any interest in well written D/s romance novels check out Tara Sue Me, Maya Banks, Alison Tyler… There are many more. I can give specific recommendations if any of you desire them.

But not this. Call this a twisted love story. A romance novel. But do not associate it with my world. Do not call it D/s.. Because it does not come anywhere close to a proper D/s relationship.

Rant over.

Yours out of breath from screaming

-Rena

Reclaiming

2015/01/img_4308.jpg

I’m still typing these entries on my phone… But there are worse things than lack of a laptop.

Though I’m not gonna lie. I do miss having one.

My car window is fixed and I’m working again. That is a fantastic feeling in and of itself. I have a whiney little cat child that can’t be left alone for too long or he does horribly wicked things… Like eat every flower in the case or open and knock over the giant bottle of lube… So I’m not quite working the hours I was working in December, but I’m slowly putting my life back together.

So far out of the things stolen from me I have reclaimed the cell phone chargers and my books… The books have a story.

I was driving around last night doing the Lyft thing and finally making some much needed funds. There was a particularly difficult passenger in the car next to me, and I was near what I wanted to make for the evening, so I knew he would be the last. He ended up directing me down the route I used to take on the Muni to SFAI what feels like a world ago. While tuning out Mr Difficult I smiled as I passed the It’s A Grind, the cute boutique stores

The Good Vibes.

Did I mention the books that were stolen were kink books?

Technically the first time around the books were free for me.. A world ago Kane and I went to Good Vibes and he went on a bit of a.. Spending spree, purchasing the foundations of our toy bag together. Enough that he managed to fill out four completely stamped discount cards, getting me a total of 40 dollars in free merch… which I spent on boons over about six months.

Yes. Mock me all you want. 40 bucks to a sex toy store and I buy books. They’re good books!!!

Well, before last night I had yet to repurchase a single thing that was lost. I got it stuck in my head that this little pixie would reclaim her books if I could manage to get a parking spot within a block of Good Vibes.

Whelp. I got my spot. I power walked to the store, a determined little soldier on a mission, and walked in just as an orgasm training class was letting out. They had one one the books that I lost.. And another that was similar but not quire right. I took a risk, figuring I could always purchase the other book down the line. Dipshit me couldn’t find my discount card (I had 5 stamp spots left DAMMNIT!).

The nice lady behind the counter stamped up an entire new card for me. So.. Today, I went to Good Vibes #2 and got stolen book #2 for free… Three sexy books for the price of two? I will take that bone, universe.

Next on the list is a new journal and drawing pen. It won’t be from Sir… But I feel naked without it. And drawing and sketching makes me happy. Writing makes me happy.

I like being happy. What a concept. And I can be happy outside of situations where I’m strapped to a cross with a flogger striking my ass repeatedly.

I do miss those moments though.

I didn’t expect while I was reclaiming bits and pieces of myself that were taken that my Dominant would reclaim me.

After a hard day of work there is no better sight than a sexy Dom with a strawberry shake.

Okay. Backtrack. I hadn’t seen Kane in 5 days. 5 LONG days.. I had finally hit the ultimate sexual wall. I could no longer make myself cum with a vibrator and fantasy alone. After nearly a month without feeling Kane’s hands on me my body just quit listening. And I couldn’t make myself think about anyone else’s hands until I felt his on me again. He’s been going through so much and been so stressed.. And I knew that. But he had been so distant. I fought feelings of rejection.. A raw gut feeling that he no longer desired me. Or that he has too much going on to want his sub. That I can’t ease his worries even for a little while made me feel like a failure as a sub. But of course I never discussed this with him. He was too stressed as it was.

I was mentally doing backflips when Kane said he could see me tonight… He gave me everything that I had been needing all in one night.

He showed up with food and a strawberry shake.. Which doesn’t seem like a big deal.. But it’s a little detail he thought of. Strawberry flavored ANYTHING is my favorite. With how much was on his mind, that he remembered that little detail.. It meant a lot.

We snuggled, we talked.. He was holding me but not kissing me, not touching me… My insecurities were going ape shit. All those little voices scurried into my ear and whispered “he’s ending things. He doesn’t want you as a submissive. You’re too much work. You’ve failed him too much.”

At one point he had me presenting my ass to him to take a spanking, back arched. If I took the spanking well I got the fucking I craved. If I didn’t he would plow into my ass, cum, and that would be that.

I cried when he spanked me. I couldn’t keep my back arched through it all. I’ve performed better in the past.. But it had been over a month since I had been seriously spanked and my pain tolerance was shot.

“Do you deserve to be fucked?”

Did I?
Was this a trick question?
Did I fail him again?

“I don’t know”.

Over and over he asked. Over and over I answered that I didn’t know. I finally cracked.

“I don’t know if you want me anymore.”

I heard my Dominant sigh. “Lay back”.

Completely naked, still teary eyes, I laid back in his arms. The fatigued eyes of Kane were gone.. I was looking at my Sir, taking control, correcting and calming his submissive. If my panties weren’t already off I’m pretty sure they would have magically disappeared.

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s not about the pain or how much you can take. It’s about your willingness to submit. To let me push you. To take you there. Letting me spank you until you were crying? ” He gave me a look. “I would say you were pretty deserving. I just wanted to hear that you thought you were.”

By the end of the night he took what was his in every way imaginable. I missed my Sir.. Seeing him again was.. Incredible. I was so afraid he was gone for good. Now my body is singing… Every muscle content. I was taken. I was used for his pleasure. And I could not be happier.

He took the time at the end of the night to outright squash some of my insecurities. Yes, he still wants me. Yes, he still loves me. No, him not seeing me has nothing to do with him wanting to see someone else.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel. Right now a lot sucks. But things will get better.

Eventually, I will financially be able to get back all that I lost.

Kane will be able to breathe again, in a new place with a new start.

My Dom still wants me and loves me.. And GODDE do I love and want him.

I am very happily and proudly his little monster.

Yours (FINALLY!) sexually sated

-Rena

Longings

tumblr_n1g27nKfzo1tqo31vo1_500

I had forgotten how much my arms ached when bound behind me. It’s not a position he normally puts me in, and he hasn’t pulled out the rope in so long.

The bound wrists are tied to my ankles, which rise to meet them from my painfully bent knees. My legs have been pushed to their limits time and time again, my arthritic knees bitching at every turn. I could feel a slight shaking as I tried to maintain my balance on the squishy mattress, keeping my back arched and my ass on display without flopping over or suffocating myself. The soft mattress attempted to suck in my face and I bit back the growing panic attack. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.

“Do you remember the first time we did this?” Ah… the voice. I love that voice, the slight accent drowning out the growing buzzing built by panic. I feel a hand caress my rounded ass and exhale, my body relaxing to the best of its ability in my current position. I no longer feel the strain in my limbs or the rope against my skin. I no longer notice the awkward angles of my limbs. Only his hand, where it touches the area of me that belongs to him the most.

The gentle stroking suddenly turns to six rapid fire, hard smacks on my ass, causing me to cry out. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”

“Yes, Sir. I remember.” And I do, very well. I have never been bound before Sir, for any reason. I am slightly claustrophobic, and when I can’t breathe properly and can’t escape of my own power I get panic attacks. Not with him.

The last time he bound me I felt like a goddess on display. He tied me to the bed, on my back, facing the foot of the bed. He took polaroid photos of me bound from different angles and then bent over and kissed me, passionately.

He fondled and fucked, and in the middle of it all, just as my orgasm built and I began to beg for more, he would pull away and pull out his sketchpad. Frantically he drew, capturing me as I was with the emotions of what we were doing coursing through him. I watched him each time he pulled away with half-lidded eyes, drunk on passion and honored that I inspired him enough to be considered muse worthy. I had never considered myself more than average in appearance. Inspiring a talented artist to work was almost an even greater honor than being permitted to submit to him.  Over and over again, he fucked me then drew me, until finally we were too entrenched in the scene for him to pull away any longer. He fucked me bound until I came, hard, trembling in my bindings.

Afterwards, he showed me the sketches and I knew I was in danger of loving this man. He drew me like a Matisse nude, with a simplistic beauty that took my breath away. He made me feel like a was a stunning beauty for the first time in my life, and then topped it all off by giving me art supplies on the way out the door. “I was in Flax and thought of you.” he said, as if it were nothing, handing me pads, and brushes, and a beautiful watercolor set. In that moment I wanted to cry. He made me feel so cherished. He thought of me outside of our BDSM hookups, when I wasn’t tied to his bed. It was the beginning of loving him.

“Do you remember how that night ended, beautiful?” His voice brings me back to the present. I close my eyes, savoring it. His hand cups my ass and squeezes as he asks.

“You fucked me, Sir, until we both came and I had gumby legs for the rest of the night.”

That earned me a short chuckle and another swift smack on the ass. ” I did. And do you know how it will end tonight?”

“No, Sir. But I can hope.”

His hands, along with his body heat, left me, and I stifled a whimper. When he is Sir he points out my little noises and chides me for my whining. It’s not about what I want. It’s about trusting him to give me what we both need.

I hear the ‘pop’ of a cap opening. A shiver runs through my body.

The gel is cold against my skin as he rubs it against my anal opening. It quickly warms as his finger follows, slipping inside and toying me gently. I moan and push back eagerly, or as eagerly as my bonds will allow, causing another amused chuckle.

“Good girl. Someone’s greedy tonight.” He slips another finger inside and I moan. Before I can push back he pulls away completely, his warmth leaving the bed.

I hear the scratch of pencil against illustration board and moan again. He’s sketching me, my ass facing him, all my bits and pieces and pudge on display for this man. Not only does he want me, he wants to capture me. I’m dripping wet by the time he returns to the bed, trembling head to toe and on the brink of orgasm and he’s barely touched me.

A pattern emerges similar to the first time he tied me up. He toys my ass, smacks it, even bites it, and then pulls away. I hear more sounds of pencil on board, and then he returns to torture me once more.

Time doesn’t exist in those moments. Your limbs reach a point where they are numb. You no longer feel the ropes binding you; forget they’re even there. You only hear the sketch sounds and feel his hands on your flesh and in your holes.

Finally, he gives me what I crave; what only he can give me. He seats himself inside my ass and begins pumping vigorously into me. He uses my bound wrists as leverage, pulling me to meet his cock with each thrust, and I know the sketching is done for the evening. I let myself get lost in the feel of his cock inside me, chanting over and over, “Oh Godde, oh Godde. Thank you, Sir, thank you! Oh Godde thank you for fucking my ass..”

And then I wake up. Shaking and midway through another round of “Oh Godde”. My undies soaked, my body tight beyond words, I reach for my vibrator and finish the job in hopes of some peaceful sleep that evening. I force two or three orgasms out of my body, all the while picturing my Dominant between my legs instead of my piece of vibrating silicone, and exhaust myself physically, hoping my mind will follow. I close my eyes again, knowing that a similar dream will appear the next night, and the night after that until his hands are on my body again.

I miss him. I want him.

And I am so grateful to have had inspiration for such vivid dreams.. I may be sexually frustrated, but I am blessed. I crave his hands on me..because I remember just how wonderful it feels.

It’s 2:28 a.m… I need to go grab my vibrator and exhaust myself to sleep.

Yours,

-Rena

Poe

The closer it gets to leaving for Boston the more I think about the people that really matter in my life… and the relationships I have with them.

California seems notorious for fair-weather friends. I’m sure there are close relationships somewhere.. I have met a couple Cali people that I know would be there if shit went down. One I know watches, just as I watch, even if we don’t speak so often. The other is slowly becoming an important member of my life.

I haven’t gone to the dungeon to play since I got back from Thanksgiving… and that hasn’t eaten at me. It hasn’t bothered me. I haven’t felt the need to be fawned on or flirted with, and have casual encounters. I enjoy the people I know through the Citadel, but that craving hasn’t been there. I’ve been working, actually working my ass off..and suddenly I have expendable income again. I will be able to truly enjoy myself over the holidays without fear of running out.

The lack of contact, for whatever reason or motivation,  has rubbed several people the wrong way.. I can understand, but in the end there are time when I have to put obligation above a fun night out. I work hard so I can enjoy myself and play later. I know too many people who just get by in the community I swim in; people much older than myself. I grew up just getting by. I have a man that loves me enough to have made sure the bottom didn’t drop out when I was at my worst, but I have watched the strain on his face when I was barely getting by. I don’t want to do that to him, to us, or to myself. I may never be wealthy, but I’m determined to have a roof over my head and food in my fridge, even in San Francisco.

Recently another responsibility has fallen into my lap; one I wasn’t truly expecting. His name is Poe. He is a loving, purring black ball who greets me at the door when I walk in and snuggles with me at night. Kane is insanely allergic.. the one thing that scared me about getting Poe. I hadn’t intended on going to the shelter..but it happened. I visited him three times before adopting him. Before I bought the stuff for him, before I called the shelter asking if he could be mine, I talked to Kane. It’s true, I’m lonely in my apartment without him. I’ve said that several times. But I wouldn’t put a cat above Kane’s health and happiness. I pestered him.. asking for clear confirmation that he was okay with Poe. That if I got the cat things would still be okay with us. We would be okay.

I love that man so much.. He told me straight out that he wanted his Rena happy, and he knew that a kitty would make his Rene very, very happy.. and that little bundle of fur has.

My cat is a cuddle whore. He curls up with me and purrs throughout the night and will plop into my lap the moment that I get home. In the shelter he walked over to me when I was playing with his little roommate, plopped into my lap when I wasn’t looking at him, looked up at me, meowed, and started purring. I was hooked.. He’s settled into my apartment with no problems. The last step with him is meeting Kane, which will hopefully happen today. I pray my boys get along.. I have an odd feeling they will.

I’m so grateful to Poe..that little ball of love has eased the last of my ache. He’s allowed me to lighten up. To not be so tense. The more I lighten and loosen, the more I see Kane do the same. I know he’s been busy and stressed, but more and more of our interactions I see the man that I proudly submit to, not the shadow of himself that I’ve seen. The more I take care of myself the more he does the same…I still don’t know what will happen after the holidays. Neither does he. But I know the road trip will do him good, just as the trip to Boston will do me good… We both know what we want to happen. We just have to wait and see. But I’m hopeful. I’m optimistic.. and I’m actually happy.

And then there’s Smith. Yes, the man continues to have an influence on me and be a pretty active member of my life. We are slowly getting to know one another…but usually end up poking one another daily and trading a text or two back and forth. He was the first to scoff at me not having relationships with the people I play with and just going to play. I still think casual play can be good from time to time…but I’m starting to think Smith has the right idea. I am getting so much more out of the different quality relationships I have, why go give myself to people just to do it? That’s putting a bandaid just a problem for me. Not helping me become the best me that I can be.

I am very blessed. I have three fantastic men in my life, all gifted to me by a very kind universe when I needed them. And all of them share very well when the need is there.

Well.

Almost all of them.

Poe is incredibly possessive of his mama.

Yours with a content, purring cat in her lap =^.^=

-Rena

Happy?

tumblr_ngdir2pT9Y1u1s8vmo1_500

I’m working on that whole happiness thing…

Today I got this crazy idea. I was driving to job #1 of 2 when I heard on the radio one of those ‘be the blankety-blank caller and win Disney tickets’ things.. Disney tickets? Excitedly, I called, and called, and called..as I drove mind you. I called sixteen times when all you needed to be was caller number 97.

There’s no magic fix button. Relationships are hard. Poly relationships can be even harder. I can’t magically go back to Disney, to that perfect weekend where we just..were. And there were no worries. And he could proudly call me his girlfriend.. I could call him my boyfriend. He could show me off instead of keeping me a secret. We could geek out and listen to Sci Fi audio books on the eight hour drive back.

The first time Smith and I talked at length was the Saturday at Surrender. He sat me down and asked what my happiest memory was. Immediately, my mind went to Disney. To when I was his princess, if only for a weekend.

I’m honestly grateful to Smith, especially lately. Normally when I can’t see Kane I become an extreme introvert. I curl up in a ball and don’t move until absolutely necessary. It hurts too much. Every time I try to recoil or pull away he’s been pulling me back.. in ways I haven’t expected. Smith has a primary partner long distance as well as several partners in his area. I’m… semi long distance; he’s in Long Beach, I’m in San Francisco. I’m starting to think the man has the patience of a saint. He listens..and listens..and LISTENS when I’m missing Kane. He listens to me ramble and tell stories and will say things like “I can’t imagine how he looks at you. He’s so lucky to have you.” And it’s genuine! That’s what shocks me! The man does not have a jealous bone in his body. I’ll call him crying on days when I ache and he’ll listen to my schpele.. and then go, “It will all work out. Of course it will all work out. He LOVES you. You love him.” But it’s not that simple, I protest. “Life isn’t simple” he tells me. “But love is resilient. You don’t take on ownership of someone lightly. From the sound of things you and him were inevitable. It’s not like you two wanted this to happen. It just… did. That can be the best kind of love.”

It’s true..it is. When I curl up in Kane’s arms I breathe better, easier. I wish… I wish I had the ability to ease him like he does me. I am so very worried about him..

The other day, my insecurities were in full force. Nothing is certain right now. Kane has so much on his plate that so much as saying how much I love him stresses him out because it adds obligations to his already full plate.. He has to then take care of me. To make sure he loves me too, etc.. A lot is kept unsaid because of that. I admit, I’ve become guilty of some bad habits lately. Stress eating, comfort eating..yeah.. And I can feel the five pounds I’ve gained. It’s not much, but it’s enough that it’s visible to me.

I was working job #2 and had stopped for a dinner break, thinking nothing of it. I parked, got out, and walked the block to the local kink cafe..and then noticed something very wrong with my collar. A ring that Kane had given me, that normally encircles the band of the collar like a dog tag, was missing. I, as I often do, started crying. I retraced all my steps. I searched the street. I even went so far as to retrace some of my stops from work… nothing. And all I could hear was Kane’s voice in my ear. “Keep this safe for me.” Over. and over. and over. I had failed him, and managed to lose the part of my collar that I love the most.

As I pulled my car into the garage my collar broke off, sliding down my chest and laying in my lap.

I feel naked..unclaimed. Bare. I keep reaching to my neck out of habit to play with the ring and..nothing. I asked Kane what to do.. “That’s up to you” he said.

Smith stepped in halfway through my meltdown. I had left work early and was driving home watching my phone buzz. “You would never hurt him on purpose.” he said. “This was an accident. It wasn’t your fault”

I was careless. It feels like my fault. Every day I wake up, send a morning photo to Kane (the only ritual I’ve never fucked up), and look over at the collar, unsure about how I should proceed. That collar is such a huge sense of security for me. It’s a reminder of who I belong to when I’m afraid…

Afraid of what?

Afraid the man I love will disappear.

I can’t ask him for more..because he just doesn’t have it there to give. He acknowledges this often.. too often. “I’m sorry I can’t be the man you need me to be right now.” He says. Over and over.

I don’t need anything other than to see genuine happiness on his face again.. I haven’t seen him happy in almost two months. Even when I got him for a week after Halloween he was a ball of stress..

I am lucky. I remind myself of that often. I’m slowly digging myself out of financial trouble, starting a new job.. in essence getting my shit together. I have a man that loves me. A family I am extremely close to. A new partner who’s making sure I don’t dissolve into a depressed ball of emo poop. There is no reason to wallow. No reason to be negative.

Part of me feels so incredibly useless because I can’t make the man I serve happy. I can’t fix it. No matter how I serve or what I do there is so much else in his life.. an hour with me is a small miracle to arrange these days.

I forget what nights with him are like.. it’s been so long. I try not to hope when the next night will be. I’ve been clinging to this hope of “Just get through the holidays and it will get better.” Now.. I don’t know..

I’m not going anywhere.. And when he does take me, when he does dominate me.. Godde am I happy. I see a glimmer of the man I’m head over heels for when he dominates me. The weight of the world disappears from both of us, if only for a moment, and we can just be. I can serve, my complete focus on him.. and he can get lost in the dominance. A simple thing like just being held by him for a moment eases all these aches and pains I wasn’t fully aware I had.. Being held by him makes me breathe easier.. When he wraps his hand around my neck, however..that’s when I finally feel relief.

Mr. Smith was originally Mr. Dashing. I changed it in the entry..because the nickname stopped making me happy. When I met Smith, his first reaction to me was to do a double take at my appearance, go “wow” several thousand times, grab my hand, bend at the waist, and kiss it. Who kisses hands like that anymore? And then this dapper gent runs off without giving me his name. GAH. I felt like some strange reversed Cinderella. I thought “Mr. Charming” would be too corny of a nickname and chose “Mr Dashing” instead.

It was a mistake.. It bothered and hurt my Dominant. I could see that every time he brought it up and tried to play it off..and it ended up hurting me when he mentioned he was going to call his secondary “Ms Beautiful.” … After gaining a little weight and feeling like shit for quite some time I didn’t like the idea of someone else being his beautiful girl when I was…what?

BLAH

I fixed it.. I hope. I’ve been fixing a lot of things lately. I’m so fucking tired…

This trip to Boston is so needed. I will be staying with one of my dearest friends from college and seeing three others.. It’s funny. When we met me and two others were single. Now one is in a common law marriage, one is swimming along brilliantly with her boyfriend, one is looking at apartments with her boy, and the one who was originally in the relationship is slowly ending hers after six years.

And me?

My heart is taken. My body is owned. My mind is cared for so that my heart may continue to give as it needs. I have a dominant. I belong to him.

I just want him to come back…

The trip with his dad is coming up in about a week. I’m hoping that will help quite a bit. He told me he wasn’t even bringing a laptop on this trip and I wanted to do a fucking happy dance. …Maybe between my trip to Boston and his trip cross-country we will slowly become happy again.

Please let things get better…please. I miss him so much.. and I desperately want to get back to Disney someday.

I have to sleep. Smith cracked down on my insomnia tonight and did the dom guilt. “Will you try to sleep for me?” FAAAKKKK. There is no saying no to that when you have subby tendencies -_-. Topple that with Kane going “Take care of my Rena.” and you have a Dom guilttrip sandwich. The body therefore must be shut down from time to time to recoup.

Please, Universe, please be kind. Please make life easier for my Dominant. Please make things easier for me in time.. for us. I like us… I miss us… but I will not push for us. Us will come back when it should.. And in the mean while I do what I can to help, which includes keeping myself emotionally healthy… which is partially thanks to Smith for keeping me from being antisocial turtle woman…

Relationships are hard. Poly relationships can be even harder.

Yours exhausted,

Rena

The Ache

I am completely exhausted.

This is the first day since I’ve come back that I haven’t worked…and it will probably be the last day before I go back east for the Christmas season. I’m pushing my body to the absolute max.. One day off and I remember why. When I’m working I’m not thinking.

The Christmas season is odd for me… when I was younger it was my second favorite time of year (Halloween always trumped). Christmas Eve is a big deal in my family… or it was. I’m Italian, and we would always go to my Grammy’s house and meet with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, eat way too much food, drink wine, and then one by one all of the grandchildren would open their Christmas gifts. My Grammy ran the show while she was alive and then when she passed my aunt took over. Her last Christmas was three years ago, and she was so weak that she couldn’t come.. I brought my camera and we actually shot a video of all the cousins opening their gifts so she could see all of our reactions. After she passed away I stopped going to Christmas Eve.

I don’t get along with my extended “family” for a variety of reasons.. I feel extremely alone and out of place when I’m around them. That loneliness is doubled when you are the lone rebel who remains home while the rest of the family trecks up to continue a mockery of a tradition…

Bah. Bitter feelings I don’t need to get into.

This is the first year since my aunt died that I’ve been..excited for Christmas. It’s not even about the gifts. I don’t have a Christmas list for the first time since I was about three, no matter how many times my older sister hounds me for one. It’s about actually wanting to sing the songs I hear on the radio again, watching White Christmas and Holiday Inn and allowing myself to be nostalgic. Curling up with my mom’s home made cocoa and Christmas cookies and watching my cat freak out at the amount of tissue paper she is allowed to pounce on Christmas morning.

The best part of the holiday season is going back east. It’s the one time of year that I can get a large enough chunk of time off to go to Boston and see my best friends.. It’s not that I don’t have friends in California, I do.. This group is special though. They are my ride together, die together group. Out of the five of us, I moved west and the rest are all in the Boston area still. Once a year I see them..and once a year I breathe easier. There’s no pretense when I’m around them. They’ve seen all my sides.. They watched me break and saw me at my absolute lowest and still loved me.

I miss Boston itself. The crisp air that can get so cold exposed skin will crack. The lights in Harvard Square during Christmas time. I miss marzipan from Mike’s Pastries and the journeyman bowl from Life Alive. Boston turned me into who I was. When I go back I feel more in my bones.. That’s my holiday season, my reason to celebrate. It’s my dose of love and companionship before the loneliness of the actual Christmas holiday. It’s this time of year that I debate moving back there; seeing if I could rejoin the world of my chickies and bring the man I love with me..

Life isn’t that simple.

Things have gotten better. Kane and I are in an okay place.. I just miss him. I’ve never had a boyfriend with me for the holidays.. even when I was in a relationship he celebrated Christmas 3000 miles away from me. This year will be no exception to that tradition of mine. And so I’ve thrown myself into making gifts (as I am a poor little creature… No buying unless I have to) and working. When I’m working I’m not thinking. I’m not worrying about what I’m missing and I can be grateful for what I have. I look forward to giving Kane what I’ve made for him..seeing the smile on his face.

He is surprisingly not the only man I’m making gifts for.. I have managed to find the beginnings of a secondary partner. We met about three weeks ago at Dark Odyssey, Surrender, a BDSM convention weekend thing at one of the hotels in the city. Mr. Smith has managed to make quite an impression… and part of me is still reeling from it. He’s new and shiny and confusing, and utterly lovable in certain ways.

I find myself achieving an odd balance with him and Kane. I don’t feel like I take away from one by thinking about the other… I have completely different relationships with the two of them, and the fact is the relationship with Smith wouldn’t exist if I didn’t have full permission from Kane to pursue it. He’s my anchor, my primary, and if he and I aren’t okay then I can’t really focus on other partners.. I have a friend that’s often stated that multiple partners handled the right way allow you to be the best you that you can possibly be.. I’m starting to fully understand that. There are kinks that I have that Kane and I don’t connect on..but Smith and I have. Vice versa with Smith and Kane. The two combined on a day where I get to see Kane have me so at peace and content.

I am very grateful for what I have. I see my vanilla and my kinky life improving greatly and have a lot to look forward to in the coming weeks.. That ache of loneliness remains an undercurrent beneath it all, rearing its ugly head from time to time.. I feel it. I rarely succumb to it, but I know it’s there..

I still have so many gifts to make, so much work to do. It’s a small miracle I have time to dwell on this long enough to write an entry XD Back to work I go.

Yours puttering along, on a new (okay… refurbished, but new to me) computer with a new working keyboard.

-Rena

Emotional Masochism

Sometimes, on a particularly low day, I go on Facebook and look at Kane’s photos. Some I love. From time to time he posted selfies that are just…him. The man I love.

Others I look through for reality checks.

I never forget the fact that he’s married. I would love to sometimes. Would love to have him to myself, to be able to proudly show him off to my family and friends as much as he shows off me when we’re in a dungeon together. I want to be able to tell everyone and their mother that we’re dating, and that I’m madly in love with this man. That we talk about a future sometimes. That we talk about trips to Hawaii, and from time to time to see my family.

The reality of the situation is that I am the “other woman”. I have been since July. The moment emotions got involved he was cheating, and I cheated with him. The guilt eventually turned to resentment; resentment that this person that seemed horribly incompatible with the man I meshed with so easily had all the claim to him when I had none.

It wasn’t so bad in the beginning. In the beginning, I was spoiled. I got weeks with him instead of days and lived in this sheltered bubble that he was mine as much as I was his, and that we were meshing worlds. I cooked him dinner. We curled up and watched movies together. We slept in the same bed. We went away on an incredible weekend vacation that I never wanted to end, where for the first time in my life I felt not only like a princess but his princess.

Then the weeks turned to five or four days…then every other week..for four days.. Then weeks apart. Now this.

Each time I resent her, I go on his Facebook. There staring me in the face is his relationship status, the first check. “Married to”. I wince, I breathe. I click on his photos and scroll all the way to the end. The very first photos are from his wedding. I make myself scroll up and look at the photos of the two of them, happy and in love. I can hear his voice in my ear as I do this. “I married her for a reason.” I wonder sometimes if he can really understand my resentment.

I look, really look, at what I’m asking him to end. A life together, a real, acknowledged, merging of two people. A house together. Friends together.

The friends don’t know about me. No one does outside of the kink community. None of his friends know we’re together. His family doesn’t. It dawned on me when he left for Hawaii that if something happened, Godde forbid, I wouldn’t find out. No one would think to reach out to me because for all they know I’m a casual friend, if they know of me at all. I have photos of the two of us together… on my phone, away from the public. I don’t even post them on Fetlife for fear of his best friend finding them and him having to explain. I don’t want him to have to explain, to be stressed, to be uncomfortable.

It’ll be six months December 2nd since he first said he loved me. Six months since we recognized what was going on between us, and that it would be more than either of us ever thought. And for months we tossed around ideas. He could come home for Thanksgiving and meet my parents. By then he was sure he would have made progress with his wife and if he went to Hawaii it was just to keep things civil. Maybe by November we would be looking at places together, we said in August. Maybe a small transition place that we can start moving his stuff in. Something we could build together. We were going to go to Ikea and get a bookcase months ago. But timelines were never our thing. He didn’t want to give me time frames he couldn’t guarantee. I quit my job and suddenly my extra income was gone. Eventually, the frames and the talk that went along with them disappeared.

When I am ready to scream with frustration I force myself back on to Facebook and see the ways that she is compatible. That financially she is fifty thousand…more like three hundred and fifty thousand… times more put together than I am. She is established, with her life put together when mine continually splinters apart. She has the time put in, the established relationships, when I’ve been around less than a year. She’s the same age as him. I’m a lot younger.

Sometimes my mind decides to travel down hypothetical lane. Hypothetically what would have happened if we met before? She’s been around since I was a teenager… It’s very possible we’ve crossed paths in the city before. He lived there when I went in every other week or so. But he wouldn’t have looked at me, dressed vanilla and young as a pup running around the museum with my family. And after? Would we have crossed paths years from now when he finally pulled away and was on his own again? He may not have been looking for a submissive anymore…may have given up on that route, along with children.

There are so many mays, and maybes, and perhaps, and possibles. There are no more promises. Just hopes. Lots of hopes that help me sleep at night. We have this little app called You and Me on our phones.. It’s supposed to be for a relationship, to send things between the two of you. I go back and look through what we sent each other in August and September and I smile. I think about apple picking. About that long ride where we drove together for hours and talked about everything and nothing; I felt that zaa-zaa-zoo that drew me to him as a person in the first place. There was a moment, looking at the sunset in Santa Cruz at the end of a perfect day. He stood next to me, just for a moment looking at the horizon. As corny as it sounds, in that one moment I loved him so fully and completely. I saw how we would work together long term. I saw the future, and I smiled..it made all the other shit worth it.

I picture that when all the maybe’s raise their ugly head. When I sleep alone, knowing he’s sharing a bed with her, and I miss him so bad it hurts. When I selfishly want to scream at her to go the hell away so that I can start a life with him already. I never forget that she was there first..and when I want to beg him to give me more time, to finally tell people about me, to walk away from his wife, I check myself. I go on his Facebook and force myself to see the relationship there. I force myself to give her respect. He married her for a reason.

I don’t know what will happen when I see him again… When talking will begin again. But I continue to check myself. She earned that place in his bed beside him.. regardless of where they are in their relationship now I can’t scream at her to relinquish that right because I’m lonely. Because I miss his heat and his touch. She was here first. I never kid myself in that, as a submissive or a girlfriend. He picked her before me.

I ended up writing this whole thing because of a conversation I had with a friend I am quickly becoming close to. I had sent him a text telling him that I was trying very hard not to be bothered by Kane’s wife being in Hawaii with him. He immediately called in response. He’s in a poly relationship with a woman who’s in an open marriage for all the RIGHT reasons, and the first words out of his mouth were “I’ve been there. I understand exactly how you feel, and how illogical it is. And you just want to reign it in and put on a smile for that person and tell them everything is okay because it’s all your internal war… and that’s fine. But you are allowed to feel what you are feeling. It’s okay to acknowledge it. It’s okay to be jealous, and lonely, and not have words for how much you miss that special person. All of that is okay. Just let yourself feel. Put on whatever face you want to keep the person you love sane but let yourself feel“. And so I did. I’m hoping writing all of this down will get some of the non-concentual pain out of my body..

Sometimes, I really am a damn masochist.

Thoughtfully yours,

-Rena

Waiting..and Hoping…

tumblr_nfb652h9Wg1rs4xi1o1_1280

It has been twelve days since I’ve seen my Dom… Twelve very long days.

Once again, I’m back in New Jersey. It’s great to see my family, as usual..but my chest is so tight.

I don’t know where we are..what we are… I miss him so much I ache.

It’s not a simple matter of communicating through technology while he is gone, filling the void how he can. He has horrible reception where he is, and he dislikes talking on the phone. I am an incredibly tactile person. I close my eyes at night and I crave his touch, the way he traces his finger around my face as if he’s trying to memorize it. I crave his scent… I miss the security of curling up right in my spot next to him, our bodies wrapping around one another. I miss his voice, and his face… I just miss everything about him.

He’s been so busy, getting everything that needs to be done, done. I understand.. I’m trying so hard to, but I feel such a distance between the two of us… He and I had a falling out about communication before I left for home, and then again once I got here just two days ago.

The weekend before I had done something I hadn’t in so long. I went and I played with others. I went to Dark Odyssey’s Surrender event and actually connected with a dominant man for the first time since Kane and I got more serious. I partially went out of my own loneliness, and partially went because he had tasked me with getting back to that place while he was gone, the one where I could have fun with others without feeling this knot of guilt, as if I was betraying him. I played, sort of.. I couldn’t do full on, intense scenes.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. One of my best friends in the kink community was there, someone who can be very paternal with me. Before the weekend was over I asked something of him that I have never asked of anyone. I asked if he would beat me. I am not a pain slut, far from it. I have a very low pain tolerance compared to most submissives out there…but I was in so much pain. I wanted Kane there… All these intimate scenes, people connecting around me, and I just wanted my Dominant to take me and put me on the cross, flog me with the red and black flogger we both love..

He flogged me, and I felt nothing. Spanked me..paddled me… I started laughing. As odd is this sounds, that’s a bad sign for me. When I actually get into sub space I become very quiet. I sigh a bit, let out little noises, but I never laugh. I broke down about a minute later and was sobbing so hard my friend refused to continue. He flipped me around, hugged me, and ended up helping me with a different sort of aftercare. He took me over to the side, sat me down, and had me list all the reasons I am thankful Kane is my Dom. Then list all the negatives of him being gone for so long, and see if the pros outweighed the cons. They did, by a long shot..

The other day I found out just how much my outside play bothered him, and just what insecure thoughts he had floating around in his head. Since then… I don’t know. He’s been texting me from time to time, and I’ve been texting him, but nothing D/s has been discussed. Nothing deep and emotional has been discussed. It’s been light, cute.. friend like.

I’m hoping I”m just emotional..reading too much into something when I’m far away and can’t fully connect…but I can tell you straight out that I would give quite a lot to hear him tell me he loved me right now. I haven’t heard the phrase in so long..I think that’s what shakes me.

Photos are hard for me..especially of my lower body. I don’t like my stomach, don’t like my pudge. In an attempt to connect after an awkward day I made a video for him, something that I don’t do… I sent it to him. He mentioned being excited to watch it… and then he was gone for the night. I hope he watched it.. hope he liked it..but I don’t know. I don’t know if it was right to do, if he wants me submitting to him now or to wait until he sees me in person.

I don’t know anything right now, and I don’t know whether or not he has the time to reassure me and calm the frantic thoughts in my mind.

And so I wait..and I hope… I will see him sometime around December 1st, hopefully…

Until then, I stare at my phone. I send him what I can. I try to keep him involved without spamming him when he can’t respond. I try not to beg when I know he is tired and stressed and busy. I love, fully and completely, and try to tell him so at least once a day, support how I can when it’s a world I don’t know.

I pray the pit in my stomach is wrong.

Yours, waiting

-Rena

A Tidbit From Tumblr

I fully admit that I have become a bit of a Tumblr junky. I go on to look at all things BDSM and kinky, and from time to time a gem will appear on my feed.

Tonight was one of those nights. I was keeping myself occupied by cleaning, organizing, and all around being an internet junky while Sir is away..and I found this.

Note: I am not the author of this and claim no ownership of it. This came from Tumblr, and was shared by someone I follow called the-quiet-dominant. I thought it was worth sharing through something other than Tumblr, which is why I’m reposting it here. I will write a blog of my own in the next couple of days..which should be an adventure. Until then, enjoy.

Yours Enlightened,

Rena

Ways to Ruin Your Subs

Note …… yes the following uses He for Dom and she for sub …. but can we please pretend its gender fluid for arguments sake

A submissive does not come with an instruction manual and there is no such thing as a perfect Dominant.

You can read every lifestyle book you can get your hands on, talk to other experienced Dominants and subs, and attend lifestyle workshops; yet you can still be left with a nagging feeling that you don’t always get it exactly right.

Perhaps you know lots of the DO’s when it comes to the training and care of a submissive, but have you ever wished you had a list of the DON’Ts?

Even if you think you’re doing your best, sometimes it might not be enough, take a look at this list of six (6) sure-fire ways to spoil your submissive.

NOTE: This is my personal view.

Six (6) Dominant mistakes that will spoil your submissive and can ruin your relationship:

1. Surrender:

No matter what your submissive wants, she gets it. Whether it is that shiny new sex toy she found online, letting her off the hook for that chore she just really hates, making it a habit to give her all the things she wants done to her, or giving her everything she asks for is the breeding ground for a spoiled, indulged, and coddled brat who will soon learn that she can always get her way by manipulating you with her emotions.

Especially, in D/s relationships, it is not uncommon for a Dominant to fall in love with his submissive, and there is not anything wrong with that. Personally I wouldn’t wish to own a girl who didn’t give me reasons to fall in love with her, but the danger you have to guard against is subordinating the power exchange dynamic by treating your relationship more as a romantic arrangement between equals.

Doing so, creates a lukewarm, superficial D/s relationship that in the end will likely satisfy either of you. There is nothing wrong with granting her requests occasionally, rewarding her for good service, and doing those little things she enjoys that make her feel happy from time to time. However, a submissive also needs regular reminders of who and what her position and role in the relationship is.

What to do instead:

When you agree to let her have that new sex toy she is coveting or to indulge her desire for that special activity in the bedroom she really likes, link it to something she has done recently to please you. In other words, make it a reward for good service and let her feel she has earned it.

Doing that will prevent her from developing a sense of entitlement and will instead cultivate in her a firm understanding that she doesn’t own you, you own her.

This will help her grow in her submission.

2. Do not discipline:

If your submissive acts out, breaks the rules, fails to complete a chore or assignment according to your expectations, or says or does something disrespectful, you cannot overlook it and do nothing. Lack of discipline in a D/s relationship often stems again from seeing your partner more as your wife or girlfriend than as your submissive.

It is quite natural to find it hard and even to loathe having to discipline someone you love, so many dominants are disinclined to administer corrective discipline even when it is clearly warranted. They rationalize it by convincing themselves that discipline either is a negative thing that doesn’t really work or else that their submissive doesn’t need it.

This fosters in a submissive the belief that there are never any consequences for bad behavior.

That kind of situation can lead to serious problems in your relationship. Just as children thrive with boundaries and rules of behavior, so does a submissive. The need to have firmly established boundaries is something most submissive women need to feel safe, secure, and protected.

Many times they will intentionally act out not because they just feel like misbehaving but to test the boundaries to make certain they are still firmly in place.

In the absence of consequences for bad behavior, the line between good and bad can become blurred or seem non-existent and a submissive can start to feel insecure and unprotected.

What to do instead:

Set clear and consistent rules and consequences for your submissive. Make certain that she clearly understands your expectations as to what she is to do and how she is to behave. If she acts out you need to “Dom” up and mete out appropriate corrective discipline.

It does not always have to be corporal punishment. That can be effective and timely, but some submissive women enjoy things like OTK spanking, and so in such cases, using that for discipline would not be very effective.

Taking away a privilege she enjoys can be in such cases much more effective.

Do remember to talk with her and to make certain she understands why she is being disciplined and do not go overboard.

Make certain the punishment fits the crime.

3. Always make excuses for them:

When a submissive makes a mistake or breaks a rule perhaps not intentionally but out of negligence, it is always a temptation for a Dominant to feel partly responsible. I think is quite normal for anyone in a leadership position of any kind to feel that he has failed too whenever a subordinate fails. Perhaps I did not communicate the rule or expectation clearly enough, or I did not do an adequate job of training her. We want to believe in our submissive and feel like she always gives one hundred-percent effort and does her best.

This can lead us to rationalize, to make excuses for her, perhaps to even blame ourselves and take upon ourselves the responsibility for her mistake or error.

While we all want to have confidence in our submissive girls, turning a blind eye to their transgressions or living in denial is not the answer.

You must make your submissive understand she is not above the rules and that even unintentional mistakes when due to negligence have repercussions.

What to do instead:

If your submissive makes a mistake due to carelessness, negligence, or purposely disregards a rule or to meet an expectation, take the appropriate corrective action, impose discipline if it is warranted. Do explain what she did wrong and make certain she understands why she is being disciplined so she does not end up feeling you are being unfair or unreasonable.

If however, she makes an honest mistake, a situation where she was neither clearly carelessness or negligent, then perhaps instead of discipline just sitting her down and talking it out may adequately take care of the situation. The goal is always to keep her from repeating the same mistakes over and over regardless of what the causative factors were.

Often, just knowing she has disappointed you might reduce her to tears and it can seem that she has punished herself enough for a misdeed, but as mentioned earlier in the discussion about corrective discipline; do not hesitate to use it when a situation clearly calls for it.

4. Do not push her limits:

If I had to pick out the most critical responsibility that every Dominant has toward a submissive, it would be to ensure that he creates an environment where she can grow in her submission. Growth in the lifestyle is best affected by helping her to push her limits and expand her boundaries. Especially with novice submissive women, quite often they come into the lifestyle with a veritable laundry list of limits both soft and hard, things she is either reluctant or simply unwilling to try.

Many of those limits are due to lack of understanding, lack of confidence, lack of experience, or feeling intimidated by the very thought of trying some activities. Since D/s is always consensual, limits must always be respected. A submissive should never be coerced or forced to participate in an activity that she has disclosed as a limit, but especially when it comes to soft limits, they do need to be pushed.

When a submissive says some activity is a soft limit, she is not saying she absolutely will not ever do the activity under any circumstances.

She is saying not yet or that she needs for you to discuss it with her before she is asked to do it.

Thus, soft limits are especially fertile ground for expanding her boundaries and helping her to grow. If her Dominant never encourages her to push her limits, she will not grow, at least efficiently and perhaps it may prevent her from every realizing her real potential. She can become too comfortable with the “status quo” and even become resistant to attempting what is necessary to grow.

What to do instead:

It is important and proper to want you submissive to tell you what interests her and so you need to ask her that very early on but never be satisfied with her just giving you a lengthy list of all the things she wants done to her.

If she is reluctant to even discuss trying things that she finds a little intimidating or scary that you need from a relationship, then perhaps this lifestyle is not really for her. She needs to have a desire to grow and a willingness to do what is needed to experience it, but perhaps even more importantly, you need to have the will to encourage her to try new things so she can grow.

5. Setting a bad example:

Some days a submissive may not feel all that submissive, and likewise, some days a Dominant does not feel like exercising dominance. That is just human nature but as the leader, the guiding force in the relationship, a Dominant just cannot ignore his responsibility to provide guidance, supervision, and training just because it has been a hectic week at the office or he has a lot of other things on his plate and feels tired.

Just as you have expectations of your submissive like following rules and meeting needs you have, she has needs to be met and expectations of you as well.

You should always strive to lead by example.

Not living up to your responsibilities to her and the relationship sets a bad example.

If you do not fulfill your responsibilities on a consistent basis, if you do not keep your word, if you make excuses, if you talk the dominant talk but do not walk the walk, your actions will speak louder than words.

You are wrong if you think your submissive is not paying attention. If she senses you do not take your responsibilities seriously, she is likely to mimic your behavior if exposed to it frequently.

What to do instead:

Resolve to be a model example in front of your submissive.

Do not let competing interests prevent you from addressing the needs of your submissive and from giving the relationship the consistent attention it deserves.

6. Not Being Engaged:

Choosing to make a habit of working late when you don’t have to over getting home regularly in time for dinner, being irritable or short with her when she has done nothing wrong, or just plain ignoring your submissive are all examples of not being fully engaged.

A submissive woman needs to feel valued.

She needs reassurance that she is pleasing and useful.

She needs a consistent conduit through which she can express her submissive nature by obediently serving and pleasing her Dominant.

Her gift of submission earns her the right to feel you consider her worthy of your attention, respect, and affection.

A submissive cannot feel centered, safe, and protected if neglected.

She is likely to become dissatisfied, unhappy, and even depressed.

What to do instead:

Even if you have got a packed work schedule or other matters that require your attention, do not neglect your submissive or the relationship. Aim to schedule regular blocks of time dedicated to her.

Watch a movie together and allow her to revel in occupying her humble place at your feet. Allow her to pleasure you sexually. She needs your engagement.

She needs you to teach her what she must do, how she must behave, and most importantly, she needs you to remind her who and what she really is, your valued possession.
Author: Unknown

Dealing

IMG_3342-1.JPG

‘I know it’s hard not to worry… but don’t worry about you and me… we are not a function of the time we spend together, but of the understanding we have of each other as artists and D/s people’

Three weeks is a long time.
I know in the scheme of things it’s a blip in time, a pinprick that will barely make an imprint, but facing it down now.. Sigh.

It’s odd, after hearing and reading about these whirlwind D/s relationships, these super intense love affairs that give so much more than they take, being knee deep in one. Sir and I have talked, late at night in bed, about the different time different place scenarios. There are times when our relationship hurts like hell, and he could see the pain in my face, where I see this little flicker of regret in his eyes. We’ve bounced back and forth about what would have happened if we had met later, when all his vanilla stuff was resolved, or earlier before it all started.

The result of the discussion is always the same. It wouldn’t have worked. We had the briefest moments to meet and connect.. And I think the moment we did we knew that we were utterly fucked in the best way possible.

In certain ways I feel like such a lucky bitch because I have Kane, my boyfriend who is sweet and gentle with these kind blue eyes and this laugh that melts me. He is who I have art debates with, who I joke with, who I curl up and unwilling watch the Matrix with (and then thank him later for finally forcing me to watch the Matrix). And then there is Sir, my Dom, when he gets this look in his eyes that pierce through me. His grip becomes stronger, he’s mastered THAT VOICE, the sexy Dom voice that turns my insides to jello and makes me warm all over. Sir is the one that will not hesitate to grab me and use me as he wishes, yanking me into the best position to spank, or fuck, or flog, or bite.

I love when these two sides combine, in moments like our morning snuggles where I wake up with him wrapped around me, cuddling close. And then he grinds against me, his hand wanders over my body, loving and possessive at the same time, and in a tone that would make my clothes evaporate if I wore any to bed, he whispers in my ear, “I think it’s time to wake up.” Waking up means getting up, making his coffee just right, crawling back into bed with said coffee, and then happily crawling between his legs.

My vanilla life has been hard lately. I am away from him more than I like to admit, and find myself constantly stressing about money. I felt.. Useless for quite some time. Spent. Empty. No matter how hard I worked efforts never seemed good enough, and it took a toll emotionally and physically. I isolated myself, avoiding the play parties and the kink community I loved in order to hide and sulk.

No man has ever dealt with my unraveling before, no matter been able to fix it. Kane is the first. It took a lot of talking on both our parts, but I finally managed to communicate to him that walking gingerly around me gave me more chances to hide.

And so the walking on eggshells stopped. Sir became firmer, more prominent. When I mess up I get punished. When I do well I am rewarded with the ever sought after, “good girl” and a kiss on my forehead. We both let go again, him letting himself be Dom without holding back, me giving up all control to him again without fear. A week of getting back to the new, improved version of us and I felt myself coming back to life.

I started working again. So many of my supplies are still at Cal’s house.. But I used what I had. I started sculpting, and painting, and remember what I’m good at. That I’m not unless. That there’s a reason he chose me over countless others to own.

That’s another thing in the works.. A contract, to have me owned and collared properly. Because frankly I don’t think I could fully belong to anyone else at this point. I am his, heart, body, and soul.

So. Now that things are better, now that I’m getting back to myself and am making some progress in my life, how will it be spending a full three weeks without physical contact, and another month after that without being able to spend the night together?

I don’t know. I honestly don’t. I’m not scared now.. Or I try not to be. As long as we can still communicate I’m hoping we will be fine.

We will see. Either way.. It’s nice to be able to hope again.

Yours rising.

~Rena