Tag Archives: needs

Day 29

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29) Is pain or humiliation (spankings for example) a part of your submission? What is your relationship to it? Do you embrace it as a part of your submission, tolerate it as necessary or have some other type of relationship with it?

I feel like I’ve answered this already…

Yes, pain is part of my submission. My relationship to pain is…confusing for me. Because it’s new, it’s shiny, and it’s something that I never thought I would love.

It’s become, as weird as it sounds, its own type of love language. I love when James spanks me..because it’s not just the spanking. It’s that caress before. It’s when he knows just the right moments to check on me, where I need to see his face and have a hand in my hair before the beating continues. It’s that thrill of showing him just what a good girl I am and how much I can take.

I like pain.

I love when he doodles on my chest, carving beautiful designs in it with his nails. I love when he yanks my hair. I become a rag doll, pliant and compliant and a giant ball of need… I love love love love LOVE being marked up after all of this…

But I love all this with James.

My pain threshold is dependent on my Sir being close by and accessible. He’s in the same building, he’s administrating the beating, he’s helping, or he’s taking pictures.. Then I want to fly. I want to excel and pose and show off and show him just how much I can take. When he’s not nearby, or I can’t reach him… The safety blanket just buckles and I can’t perform.

I like pain, when it’s balanced by James’s protective energy. He hurts me, yes, but if anyone harms me he will protect me. I know that with absolutely certainty.. The community knows you don’t harm what is his. And I’m his.

Yours 29 posts later (ONE TO GO!!!)

-Rene

Day 27

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27) Do you have submissive desires or fantasies that you have yet to be able to explore? Do some of your desires confuse or frighten you? Do they excite you?

I don’t know a single person out there than can safely say “I have explored and satisfied every sexual fantasy I have.”

I know I’m not one of them.

I am, as I’ve said before, blessed. I live in an incredible area with open minded people who encourage the type of sexual fantasies I have.

My desires…are strange. They shift from partner to partner. My main kink is service and submission.. From there it morphs, depending on how I would please that partner the most. James is a sadist. Therefore I become his masochist. I enjoy being his masochist, I want to clarify that… I love (and hate..and love..and hate..) what he does to me and serve willingly and happily…but I can’t go into that masochistic head space unless he’s around. It doesn’t have to be him doing the scene. But I either have to be focused on him (like at Fusion where my ass got spanked black and bloody blue so that I could have pictures taken of it to show him) or he needs to be taking photos of it or watching… Otherwise I’m a whimpy light weight.

From this it’s not that my desires or fantasies frighten me.. It’s that they surprise me. If you had asked me a year ago I would have been horrified at the idea of someone digging his nails into the skin of my chest and basically drawing with my raw flesh.. Now I love it. And hate it.. And love it. I love the results, I should say. The beautiful spiral designs that are currently on my chest. I curse him out as much as I can get away with when he’s doing it… Which isn’t much, but it does feel good…

I do have some sexual fantasies still unfulfilled… but that’s what Dark Odyssey events and dungeons are for.. There’s a list in my head… Threesomes, both mfm and fmf. Orgy…because why not? Sometimes I get in a slightly toppy head space and I think about fucking a girl I know with a strap on… I don’t know where that toppy place is coming from lately. If anything, that scares me the most.

Submissive fantasies… I want to be owned and collared again. I think about his hand wrapped around my neck too often.. He does it once in a blue moon, but I’m hungry for more of that…breath play. I love breath play…. And yes, I think about fucking him.

And no, we still haven’t.

I fantasize about little things too.. things I sometimes took for granted. Curling up in each other’s arms. Going out on dates. Sleeping next to one another in bed.

The biggest fantasy?

One uninterrupted day with he and I. No stress. No money worries. Just one day when I can get lost in the company of my Sir.

A girl can dream, right?

Yours…exhausted

-Rene

ps. I do apologize for how lax I’ve been with these 30 Days entries… I’m sure that you’ve seen that there has been a LOT going on in my hectic thing called life… But I finish what I start, and now that life is slowly returning to normal on planet subby, I plan on finishing the last three entries in a timely manner. Thank you all for your patience, and as always for glancing at my humble blog. I am, as always, grateful.

Day 26

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26) What are the qualities you seek in a dominant partner and why? Are some qualities deal-breakers as in “must” haves or “must not” have?

What do I seek… hmmm…

I seek someone who looks passed the surface level.

There is a difference between when I play and when I submit. When I play, I am performing. I am showing off. Showing how much I can take, how amazing I can be under another’s hand. When I am submitting Every second is real. I have completely given myself to that person… and wherever he wants to take me I will very willingly go.

So.. for the purpose of this question I’m going to focus on what I look for in a primary, the man I would call my Dominant, whose collar I would wear and who I would end up being most submissive to.

I look for someone who sees me.. If someone walks up to me and just wants to play fine, it will be fun. But can you see how to push me. Can you bring me out of my shell. Do you even want to? Do you want to know what makes me up, what makes me tick, what drives me to submission to start with? If you don’t want to know the mind, I’m not going to give you the body.

I look for someone who pushes..but knows when to stop. The two Dominants in my life that I have fully given myself too have pushed me. They’ve bruised me. They’ve hurt me without causing me harm. Right when I would have ‘yellowed’ they read something in my body language that told them they needed to back off..and they did. They knew how hard to push, and that I need to be pushed..but they also know there is no point in breaking their favorite toys. Then you can’t play with them again.

I look for strength.. And I don’t mean just physical. I know I have baggage, and I know there are times when I crumble. Hiding that side from my Dominant, when in all reality if he’s my Dominant he’s going to be my lover, my boyfriend, my friend as well, is almost impossible. I Nee someone strong who knows how to catch me when I fall, and who can accept that sometimes I do indeed fall. I’m human. And so is he. If he can catch me then I will be there to catch him.

I want someone who wants more. The “more” is always scary. When feels get involved suddenly everyone gets skittish and doesn’t want to talk about it. It takes me a long time to build up to wanting more…but when I’m sure, I’m sure, and I let myself fall. If someone moves emotionally at a different pace than me that is fine, and often welcome…but it’s when there’s no hope for that more, for that deeper level of emotion, that I pull the eject button.

He needs to know the power of aftercare, and that it is mandatory, not just after scenes but after life. After a fight there should be hugging, kissing, and check ins once the discussion is resolved. After a scene I want to come down in someone’s arms, knowing I am safe and secure and as long as they’re there nothing will touch me. After a horrible day I want to know that I can reach them, that they will ground me even if it’s just through text on a screen. That they’re accessible and want to talk.

This is my shallow one… He needs to be physically attracted to me.. If you don’t want me. If you want just my personality and ‘can live with the physical me’… why the fuck are you with me? I’m sorry… I will be attracted to the people I am with. I would like for them to also be attracted to me.

The last thing, and this one is extremely important to me.. They can’t be afraid of touch or affection. I am a tactile WHORE. I need you to touch me, hold me, embrace me, caress my face..and more than that I need you to want to do those things.. I was deprived of PDA for a damn long time…and dammit I want it now.

And no, none of these are negotiable. Because I’m spoiled 😛

Yours..apparently very demanding

-Rene

Day 8

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Day 8

Is spanking or corporal punishment a part of your submission? Why or why not?

…This may end up being a very short post.

Yes. Yes. YES it is part of my submission. Big screamy capital letters YESSSSSSS.

It used to scare me.. being hit. Spanked. Flogged. It used to scare the living shit out of me.

Now?

…mmmmmmmmmmmmm

With Kane, spanking and beating used to be the work for the reward.. The tender touches, the good girl, the fantastic sex to follow. I wanted to earn the ‘good girl’, the ultimate reward for the submissive…

James… He’s a whole other ball of wax. Ever since he and I started playing around months ago, before any feels or dating or… relationshippy stuff… he’s turned my perceptions of pain and pleasure on their heads. It’s just.. part of the dynamic between he and I… I take pleasure from being on my knees in from of James, chest out, knowing a hand is going to come down and redden it. Knowing it’s going to hurt, and it’s going to make him smile. I HATE when he hits my thighs, but smile after the pain fades and they are red and warm.

But spanking with James?

How do I put this…. and this is not in a bragging sense.. This is just him.

The man is to bare handed spanking as Midori is to rope.

His upper body is BUILT. Pretty sure his biceps are bigger than my head… and he wants to get in even better shape. The man can bruise with a single strike.. He could easily finish me for an evening easily.. and instead he pushes me.. His spankings are a rare treat for me. It’s never just a strike. It’s always a build up. He will reach out first, let me know it’s coming, and gently put a hand on my ass, caress it.. sometimes squeeze. And then his hand comes down. I scream. I buck. I gasp. I wonder if I can possibly take another, because damn if that man isn’t always symmetrical. It hurts..and I want more.

There are times when his spankings are gentle. Well, at least for him. Sometimes he will spank me while I’m in between his legs sucking him, light taps compared to his normal strikes. Just enough to attempt to distract me and make me moan, through pants or skirts.

Other types of play… Floggings, paddles, mean wooden spoons that I am still not on speaking terms with… Yes, I like all of that as well. Intense scenes don’t happen as often between James and I.. It’s usually quick moments of play. We’ve only had one full official play scene at a party, on the cross, where he beat me to my almost-breaking point… and then stops right before I would have yellowed.. The man can read my body extremely well. He’s learned how I react to different types of pain even before I process how I handle them.. Yes, I love the intense scenes as well. I look forward to more.

So yes, spanking and corporal punishment are part of my D/s relationship. Why?

Because we enjoy it, both Sir and I. Because we both, in certain ways, need it. And love it. And crave it.

Because it’s part of who I am. And I relish it.

Maybe if I’m a good girl, I’ll get spanked tonight.

I’ve made it more than a week. YES!

Yours in antici…..pation,

-Rena

Peace of Mind (In Uncertain Times)

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I love watching Kane paint.

It’s not one of those things that I can put into words as to why, and it’s a hard balance for me between wanting to indulge in the enjoyment and making sure that my watching doesn’t make him uncomfortable. I don’t particularly like people watching me work over my shoulder. But he puts up with me doing it, and so I watch, content to sit quietly while he paints.

He and I are so different in so many ways. He is practical, he is logic. I am emotion, always emotion first. Sometimes that can be a fantastic mix, and sometimes it can be volatile.

It has been over a year now since I’ve started this journey. Over a year since Cal first messaged me and I jumped down the BDSM rabbit hole. Do I regret it?

Kane and I were out to dinner the other night and I mentioned it to him, that I had been in this world for a year. I asked if he thought I had made a mistake in staying in San Francisco.

“Sometimes.” He said. “I feel like you would had been further down your path if you had gone.”

I disagree. I feel as if I would have been further down my path as an artist.. but my work would be going in a very different direction from the turn it has taken. I would be in a city that yes, I enjoy greatly, but that has very few jobs. I would have enough student loan debt to keep me drowning for the next 40 years. I could teach, yes…but at what cost?

I didn’t choose the path he would have. I chose my heart over my head, emotion and need over logic. Do I regret it? No. Not at all. Not a single day.

Submission is a need for me. Even when I didn’t acknowledge it, it was there. I can remember with my very first “real” boyfriend certain key behaviors; for instance, my favorite spot was sitting at his feet while he played video games in his favorite chair. Why? it wasn’t as if I thought less of myself than I did of him. It was just that I enjoyed sitting at his feet. I felt at peace being there. By the time Jason and I split I knew well what I was. I had gotten him to dress me, spank me, claim me, mark me.. I knelt at his feet out of my own choosing, not his. I had Googled these urges to know what it was without Cal having to give it a name.

With how much these behaviors leaked out of me, there was a time limit on how long I could suppress my submissive side. Cal’s first message was just the final excuse to embrace it.

Submitting is the only thing that makes my brain STOP. All other aspects of my life are under control, for once.. Getting them under control have taken some time (hence my absence lately) but I’ve done it. It’s just.. a constant juggling act. And it’s exhausting. The NEED to submit becomes so strong sometimes it’s painful. Spank me. The silent voice inside me screams. Pull my hair. Fuck my mouth. Use my body for your pleasure. Take control and use to me to ease your aches. In doing so, you ease mine. You make the world stop, just for a little while, and I can be. Just be.

There are very few days where I feel as if I do good for Kane.. The other day I got the chance to do so. To aid him, and to help both of us. I am terrified of his rejection, of his frustration. I know I am a trying creature to deal with at times. I try his patience on a regular basis and can tank his mood if I push a subject too hard. The submissive of me is extra conscious about this…because each time I upset him it feels like I’ve failed him. I’m supposed to bring him pleasure and joy, not frustration and grief.

And so, when given the chance to do actual GOOD for him, un-fuckable good, I jumped for joy. Quite literally at one point. And I took a risk. I asked for what I wanted, for a way to aid both of us in sleeping well. I wanted to service him… needed to. I craved submitting to him, giving him pleasure and only pleasure. No grief. No emotions, no outside world or questions. Just service.

And he said yes.

And for just a little while, my brain shut the fuck up and I did good. I pleased him. And it felt so damn fucking good.

I am a submissive. I am not ashamed to crave his touch. A year ago, I would have been. I would have questioned what was wrong with me, that I wanted this man to use me. That my pleasure stemmed from his. That when he hurt me he didn’t harm me. Instead, that his spankings can bring me euphoric bliss.

A year ago I would not have called myself poly. I wouldn’t have even considered the idea of Smith, in fact a year ago a man like Smith who is VERY poly (enough partners to make up a small harem, as much as he disagrees with me) would have broken my heart. Instead, Smith has done so much good for me. He’s shown me how enjoyable poly can actually be, how multiple partners really do allow you to be the best you that you can be. He pulls out the aspects of my submission I still shy away from and has me stare them down, say that I’m not ashamed of them. Instead, he pushes me to embrace them.

He also.. listens. He loves hearing about Kane and I, about our relationship before we (Smith and I) met, about how it is now. What we do together when we are together. How I feel about him. Without Smith I wouldn’t have been brave enough to ask for what I wanted the other night.

I love watching Kane paint, with sure strokes and a steady brush. I don’t know why. When I watch him, I think about my own work. The direction it is going in, the ideas his paintings give me for glazing techniques. As an artist, I admire Kane. On the canvas I see his emotions and his logic, I see his imperfections and his expertise, and part of me understands why I feel at peace when I kneel at his feet. Because for as different as he and I can be, we share a need that overlaps. We both need to create to function.. When we’re not working, we’re not okay. We both gain inspiration from dark desires, he from Dominating, me from submission.

Nothing in either of our lives is easily fixed, and nothing for either of us is certain right now. I don’t know when the day will come where he just doesn’t want me anymore. I’m terrified of that day. Because right now, I don’t need romantic hearts and flowers, or promises or expectations of love. I need use. I need a hand wrapped around my neck and a cock buried in my ass. I need to know that I do good with my service, that for a brief moment in our chaotic lives his brain stops going into overdrive just as mine does, and I bring him pleasure.

Use me. Twist me and turn me as you desire. Fuck me, don’t fuck me. Pull my hair, smack my ass.. because from your pleasure, I gain pleasure. From your release I gain inspiration. I am an artist inspired by my submission. And I refuse to be ashamed of that need. It has been a long fucking year, and I’m sure the next will be just as long, but it has given me a core part of myself and people in my life that understand and accept that part of me.

And a cat. I can’t forget Poe.

Many things in life change. Relationships change. Smith talks about necessary tweaking from time to time… and while my sexual identity may need “tweaking” from time to time, it’s no longer a big taboo question mark. That’s a good feeling.

Yours, as always, a proud subby and a work in progress

-Rena

Dealing

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‘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

Two Days

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I am aching, and screaming, and wanting all at once. 

I crave a firm hand on my ass, spanking it a nice warm pink that pushes me so close to the edge without taking me over. I miss the smell of leather, the anticipation as the tendrils of my favorite flogger are dragged every so softly down my back and then pull away… That split second of nothing, of waiting, not knowing when you will bring down the flogger or how hard that first strike will be. Only knowing that I need it. 

I miss the feel of rope on my skin, of being tied and yanked and posed.. of feeling like some beautiful goddess as you toy with me, pinch me, kiss me, fuck me, and then pull away to sketch and paint the whole scene, a volley of emotions crossing through both of us. I miss being your muse, knowing that I inspire you to create instead of just being dead weight. I selfishly miss feeling beautiful, knowing it by the look in your eyes, not just hearing the words come out of your mouth. 

I need my Dom. Not want. I want my boyfriend. I love my boyfriend. But I NEED my Dominant. I need one hand wrapped around my throat while another digs into my skin, grabbing me so hard that I bruise. I need marks left on my body from your hands, your teeth. From the toys. I need sting, thud, ache. I crave it all…to a near bursting point. It’s the only time I feel peace. I love our snuggles, I love the gentle touches and kisses…but I find myself waiting. Waiting for your hands to become more forceful, for those kisses to become nips and then bites… for the look in your eyes to change and suddenly it is my Dom looking at me, not my gentle lover. There is no arguing his orders, I wouldn’t think of it. The tone of voice used leaves no room for arguing. The firm look in the eye leaves only two options; follow orders or be punished. I even need that damn riding crop, and you know how I feel about that thing..

I want to be your favorite piece of property. Your shiny, most useful toy and accessory. I want to be your doll to dress up, your toy to use as you will, your housekeeper when necessary. Let me kneel at your feet when you return from work, fetch you drinks, make your dinner.. I don’t care if I’m tired, if I have a headache, or if I’ve had a bad day. Serving you gives me pleasure. It allows me to breathe..it’s the prelude to the peace that comes when you order me to bed with that look in your eyes telling me I’m in just the right amount of trouble. 

Please, give me a firm hand. Push me. Make me cry. Lately the crying has been good… cathartic release. Give me the peace I only find under your hands. Bruise me. Mark me. Bite me…hurt me, please, without harming me. Push me to my absolute limit until I shatter and then hold me after..pick up my pieces and be my krazy glue. Hold me, dry my tears and remind me that I am untouchable when I am in your embrace. 

You tasked me with making the first move… I made it in the only way I know how. 

Please, Sir… 

Your devoted submissive

~Rena