Tag Archives: play

Day 4


Day 4

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

Honestly? There isn’t a Dominant bone in my body.

There are sassy tendons, and maybe a couple bratty cells, but no Dominant bones.

There is a woman in my kink community that goes by the name of Miss Amy. I’ve only ever seen her in a Dominant roll. She is a curvy Asian woman with more sass than I have ever seen embodied in one woman, and has referenced herself as a “six year old sadist.” Watching her scenes is incredibly enjoyable… Honestly, she is probably my favorite sadist to watch work. She uses such humor and still causes so much damn havoc with her hand, or canes, or an electronic dog collar… (there’s a story behind that). If I could be a top at all, I would be like that.. Giggling with glee as I hit someone.

I’ve spanked someone before…but not just as me.. As part of light hearted play scene in the club with other tops taking control, or because someone playfully asked me to. Would I reach out and spank someone on my own? … No. I don’t think so.

The switchiest I tend to be is as an aid for tops and Doms. I will cuff someone in, give them a few extra smacks, help tie them down..but I will not take the lead. I’m not comfortable taking the lead when I crave being the one following so badly.

I top the way I’m involved in theatre. I have helped to build many, MANY sets. I enjoy being in the background, the support. I’ve been in plays in the past, but only when the part really suited me.. I’ve never actually gone out for a part. Any time I’ve been on stage and not behind a curtain it’s because someone else guided me there, saying that me standing there would help the other people on stage.

I am at my core a submissive. I serve my Sir, who I hope to one day call my Dominant. .. I really don’t enjoy someone serving me in any way. Yup, I’m a weird one…

As for what I remain in control of, I remain in control of my own body. Things like what I eat. Whether or not I dye my hair or pierce things. How much I exercise. I may ask for James’s input on these things, especially with things that impact my physical appearance, but in the end I get the final say and more often than not he will go, “Up to you.”. If I honestly beg for his input he may give it, may, it depends if he’s in the mood for it…

Sadists. Can’t live with them, can’t get bruises without them 😛

Four days down, twenty six to go

Yours, very happily a subby,


30 Days Of Submission


I’ve seen this challenge posted on other blogs similarly themed to my own, most recently with a Dominant’s twist. The vein of this challenge that I have stumbled across is 30 Days of Submission. I acquired the questions off of Tumblr (a wonderful resource for kinky fuckery) from someone who also does not know the origin of the questions, and take no credit for them. However, I will enjoy answering them.

I wanted to create a separate page for this because..well.. 30 Days is a lot. Writing that consistently for that length of time will be difficult… I like a challenge. I promise to still do other writing of the kinky variety, but on my first full day of being 24 (my birthday way yesterday) I figured it would be a fun idea to start something.. different. So, here is the different.

Day 1

Does your submission – either what you practice or what you strive for – have a label? Do you view your submission as Taken in Hand, domestic discipline, top/bottom, dominant/submissive, master/slave, owner/pet, or some other description or combination? If you do not use a label, why?

It depends.

The poly thing adds a whole lovely twist to the whole thing for me… I’m weird about labels when it comes to multiple relationships.. and I tend to over-verify and ask questions about the ‘main relationship’ labels before I throw in any add ons.

As weird as it sounds, the ‘submission’ part of a relationship is easy to define. That part happens naturally for me, and usually for the partner I am with. I have said multiple times that I identify as a submissive.. and it’s the side of a relationship that comes out first with me. I will play with someone to get to know them.. to see if there’s chemistry, if it feels right kneeling in front of him and calling him ‘sir’. If I can picture that ‘sir’ getting capitalized to my Sir. If I feel chemistry, if it feels good, natural, not forced… then I try to flirt.

That tends to be MUCH more forced for me. Socially I can be an awkward turtle, especially when I like someone.. I will play with someone for once before I openly express further interest. I get there eventually though..

I have different facets to my submission. There’s a Little side, a pet side, a masochistic side… they all make up who I am. It’s a matter of which partner I am with at the time that dictates which trait is most prevalent, and how much it is prevalent. My masochistic side is very much alive and well with James.. I want to take pain when he and I play. I expect unexpected dashes of ow and tears when I’m around him… but I collect sadists like M&Ms. Almost all of my friends have some sort of sadistic side.. I’ve played with a very sweet, sadistic friend a number of times and struggled to take the pain he dished out, even though in comparison to James he’s incredibly light-handed, gentle even. It’s all about head space.

I’ve been collared before.. and I love the reassurance of the collar. In my ideal relationship there is a collar at the end of the tunnel.. that ultimate reassurance of belonging to someone, of your place.. It’s a fantastic feeling, but it’s something earned over time and not to be taken lightly. Even with the collar I’m not sure I would call myself a slave.. It’s hard to wrap my mind around that title. I will always go to submissives first.

Outside of the BDSM labels there’s all the lovely relationship labels that come with..well.. relationships. Primary. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Secondary… I’m weird when it comes to “boyfriend/girlfriend”. That’s my primary, in my mind.. Yes, you can have multiple people that you’re seeing but I’m more likely to reference them as ‘partners’ than boyfriends or girlfriends. My boyfriend is the one that would get the Facebook status if that was his thing, and who gets the big, shiny Fetlife status for all to see. He’s the one that owns me.. The boyfriend term ends up a bridge for me between the kink world and the vanilla world.. It allows me to talk about my Sir to vanilla friends in a way that they can understand.. Doesn’t mean that the relationship isn’t romantic. If someone is my Sir and not just a sir.. there are mushy feels there, at least for me.. But the way I use the term ‘boyfriend’ makes me a little bit touchy about it.

Wow.. that ended up a lot longer and more insightful than I thought it would be XD.

Day one down, 29 to go.

Yours, as always


Day 2


Day 2
Describe who you might submit to and how. Are you exclusively submissive in marriage or just in the bedroom? Are you submissive only in the context of a scene or in a role or throughout your daily life? Are you submissive to play partners or only in the context of a relationship?

There are those dangerous categories on Fetlife when it comes to the amount of time you spend “involved” with kink. ‘I live the lifestyle when I can’, ’24/7′, ‘bedroom only’, etc. What is the line between ‘I live the lifestyle when I can’ and ’24/7′. It is not as if I am always thinking subby thoughts.. but it takes me almost nothing to get there. It’s a look from James, or his tone, or from other partners I play with.. It is definitely not just a scene or role for me. My submission is part of who I am. I fall into it naturally, without a fight… but I fall into it when signals from a Dominant man are sent.

I’ll give you a for-instance…both are playful, as I am a sassy little sub. James and I will ‘poke’ each other. I mean literally reach out and poke each other with our fingers. Sometimes this devolves into tickles, licks, and playful nips and both of us end up laughing hysterically. Other times he will look at me, suddenly calm, and just go, “Really? Really now? Are you sure?” The moment those words are out of his mouth I’m in sub mode, mentally bracing for the nail about to pierce my skin or the hand about to come down on my chest or thigh. I don’t fight him, I don’t question it..because I don’t want to. Because those words are the trigger that make me want it. I want the sting of warmed, reddened flesh and the feel of his nails digging into me…

It works in text as well as in person, at least for me. I have a play partner in San Mateo that will text me orders from time to time when I’m on the way to see him, simple things like “pick up chocolate on the way and I’ll pay you back” or “park in the space next to mine in the garage.” My automatic response is almost always, “Yes, sir.”

However, only people relatively close to me text me…and have that power to get that response out of me. If someone is a casual play partner that I see only at parties then I’m only submissive to them during our scene at that party. I belong to James. I submit to James whenever it is asked of me.. When it comes to playing with others they have to ask his permission, so it almost feels as if I’m on loan to them for those moments, and then I go back to where I belong.

And on a final note to today’s question: why does the phrase ‘marriage’ have to be used? The idea of getting married right now is terrifying… just saying.

Two questions down, 28 to go.

Yours, as always


Language and Bubble Popping


I identify as a submissive.

That is the very first line of my Fetlife profile, as to the point as I can possibly be. I do not say sexual submissive, I do not say bottom or switch. I say that I identify as a submissive.

Labels have power, and as much as we hate to admit it the world of BDSM is absolutely chock full of ’em.

play partner
leather family

I could go on..and on..and on..

But if I did this entry would just be one long list and nothing explained, and that would be bad.

That being said, I am far from an expert when it comes to terms of ownership and how everyone should properly use them (honestly, there doesn’t seem to be one proper way, but that’s a whole other ball of wax). I am, however, very good at seeing the terms fumbled, and fumbling them myself.

What makes all these terms so messy is that every small orbit, every family, every clique or dungeon or group or sect or event has their own definitions for each one of these terms and what they mean to them. Every small clique of people I’ve seen uses these words in a slightly different way. That SLIGHT difference can cause a shit ton of drama if you’re drifting from one kink bubble into another.

A good example: When Cal and I first started speaking, he instructed me to call him Sir. Capital S, term of respect, proper noun to use as his name. I happily agreed to this. I knew nothing of other terms of ownership and language of the BDSM world at this point. I was green as green can be, and he was the center of my little BDSM orbit.

Enter into our dynamic Cal’s primary at the time. She had been bouncing around the Bay Area scene longer than I had been on the West Coast. Like Cal was trying to do with me, she was properly mentored, but by a hardcore Domme. She had her ways of communicating, her own kink language. To her, addressing someone as Sir was a term of respect earned. It bothered her that I used the term so half-haphazardly and automatically when addressing her Dom and boyfriend.

They were in a TPE (total power exchange) relationship, and she was as possessive and protective of him as he was of her. So, in talking to me, hearing me address her boyfriend as Sir, as if that was his name, bothered her a lot. From her perspective it was understandable, but I was following an order. I didn’t know what else to call him besides Sir. He calmed her, explained this to her, but she still had her issues with the conflicting languages. Certain things were embedded from way back when, when she was where I was at that moment. Green, new, absorbing everything and anything I could get my hands on that would set the foundation for how I navigated this new, kinky world.

This is my personal language, as it works in communicating with my friends in the San Francisco kink scene. It’s one person, in one bubble, in one community’s views. I identify a submissive as someone who gets pleasure from service, and from pleasuring others. It doesn’t always have to be naughty, kinky things. One of my favorite rituals thus far was having the opportunity to make Kane coffee in the morning and serve it to him to start his day. I enjoy cleaning up to make someone else’s life easier. I like doing dishes, as odd as that is to say. It makes me feel very zen.

I enjoy sexual service. I enjoy submission in the kinky sense, on my hands and knees, back arched, ass presented for use. I willingly give my body to those I trust to use for their pleasure, and I get pleasure and gratification in knowing that I’ve pleased others. But that is not why I label myself as a submissive.

I call myself a submissive before a bottom, a Little, a Furry, or any other fetish or label because I need to submit. I don’t want to. I need to. I am most content on my knees in service of someone I adore… The only term that comes first is “girlfriend” and that only goes to a primary for me (I know. I’m weird).

I am, personally, very big on showing respect in the language I use. It was instilled in me very early on that the use of capitalization of certain words helps in that. I was taught to capitalize the word Dominant in reference to any Dominant man in the kink scene, just as I was taught to reference submissive with a lowercase s (any time I reference any sort of D/s play, this capitalization comes into play). Capitalization, however, can be a land mine to walk into when talking to people from different kink groups. Some people reference capitalization Dominant with ownership. Ex: Dom James hit me with the cane at the party last weekend. It is assumed that Dom James is THEIR Dom, not just a Dom in the scene.

I am not one of those people, and I try to be aware that the language I use can trigger someone who is. For me, and for the community around me, there needs to be a “my” in front of the Dom to make that person mine, and mark him as the man who dominates me. I have also frequently heard the phrase “my Sir” used. I have played with many Dominant men in the scene, and will continue to show respect with that upper case D, but there is only one man that I have ever referenced as my Dom.

The only time that capital letter comes into play with ownership for me is the word sir. It slips out of my mouth when I’m in subby mode, even if it’s just a scene in a dungeon with a friend. It’s a term of respect for the people I serve, especially those I’ve played with more than once. It’s for Dominant men that I respect and have relationships with, even if they are very good friendships that extend into the dungeon and I’m not dating them. When I am in a submissive mindset, the man topping me is sir. However, the man that collared me is always referenced as Sir. Capital S, proper noun. I learned something from Cal’s primary a year ago. That capital S needs to be earned for me. Getting me to kneel at your feet is one thing. Getting me to stay there is something all together different.

I realize that not everyone uses the language and terminology I do in reference to the partners in their lives. As stated earlier, I don’t claim to be an expert on this. I am just sharing what is true for me, in my little kink community. I know there are others out there who use other words, other upper case letters, other phrases to explain relationships and interactions.

The one thing that I will stress as a truth in all this is the same thing I would stress as true in any dynamic of D/s or BDSM. Communication is absolute key. Please remember, dear readers, that almost every conflict is worth talking out. If you have an issue with language someone uses, pull them to the side and ask them about it. They may come from a different kink background than you do. They may have been taught that every man they play with is called Sir with a capital S and that anyone who puts a collar on them is Master. It doesn’t make them wrong. It makes them different from you and your group. They may come from a group where everyone is called a Top until they show their dominance, then they are referenced as Dominant, or they may be in a relationship where a submissive will only talk about her Dom using capital letters (He hit me with His new paddle, which W/we bought together at the Fetish Flea a month ago).

Wrong is not always wrong. It is just different. I challenge readers to expand their bubbles and learn other kink languages. Be open minded. Ask questions that will help prevent miscommunications and remember that everyone has their own path to walk. Each path has taken different twist and turn along the way and led people to learn different truths. They may not be your truths, but they are truths just the same, and they should be respected.

Yours walking her own path, as always


One Pain for Another


I have been thinking a lot lately about pain.

Okay, that came off REALLY wrong.

Is it possible to think about pain in a good way? To analyze, as a submissive, why I need (not want, need) a good spanking to get my head on straight, or a flogging to make me fly? Why anal sex is my favorite because of that pleasure/pain line that pushes my body so?

I am a psych major..and I forget that most of the time. When I am how I’ve been lately, covered in clay and plaster along with the crazy cat next to me (also covered in clay and plaster…), pushing myself to sketch out new pieces, search for kilns to fire in, get the courage to approach galleries.. I forget that I went to Lesley originally for psychology. Art is in my blood, but there is a part of me that loves picking things apart. Figuring out why people react the way they do. Why they love what they do and do what they do…

I do this with myself, often. Most of the time it’s in a healthy way, to stop myself from harmful behavior, from spiraling or over-eating or getting angry without reason. I stop, analyze what I’m about to do and why, what led me there, and what I should do next.

Kinda weird from someone who so often exists in the moment, and functions on emotions and action I know, but it happens.

I’ve been doing this lately with my relationship with pain; physical pain. Where it started. Why I put myself through it. In starting off this journey I wouldn’t have said I enjoyed pain at all. I was afraid of it. I still wouldn’t call myself a masochist. I’m a tenderfoot. Even when I was playing on a regular basis (and I mean REGULAR, 3-4 times a week at least) I could never take too much pain. I would cry and shake when Kane would spank me, gritting my teeth and willing myself to make it to the end, to show I could do it. It was to please him, to show him how tough I was..

Where did that start?

I’ve always been into body modification. I see the body as a canvas made to be decorated. My tattoos are my road map, showing my journey through life. What mattered to me so much that I put it on my body for all to see forever. I have 9 tattoos now, want more, and 17 piercings (I had 18 but a cartilage piercing in my ear closed.. must re-pierce that.. I don’t like not being symmetrical). I’ve always gotten the endorphin rush that follows the pain of a needle going through me… But I’ve been poking holes through my ears since I was 12 years old. I never thought anything of it. I loved the product of the pain, the piercing that I got to wear. The pretty jewelry. The feel of the rings in my ears. It made me happy.

My parents, as open minded as they are, were always against tattoos. I didn’t get my first until I was 19, though it was one I had planned for years. A pentagram on my back, with representations of the five elements inside of it (earth, air, fire, water, spirit). Tattoos are different.. They’re not the quick, endorphin rush pain of piercings. It’s a slow, painful burn that slowly wears you down. I max out at 4 hours of sitting.. I know people who can go longer. My older sister can sit for 5+, though she curses like a sailor the entire time.

I did these things because the result was pretty, or the symbols tattooed on me meant something, enough for me to sit through the pain. I didn’t enjoy the pain. I just knew that it came part and parcel with the things that would decorate my body.

The exception to this rule is a set of tattoos I got on Valentine’s Day 2013. My aunt had died on January 27th, and I wasn’t dealing with the pain. I was single, alone, trying to keep my head afloat and finish my senior year of college. I wanted to graduate, not for myself but for her. She was why I had gone to school to start with and not gone rogue, running to New York to be an artist. She had paid for my first semester of college, and given me money for every single semester so that my loans weren’t too horrific. I wouldn’t let her down.

I have always identified as Pagan, for as long as I can remember. I have never been able to read the Runes for divination, but I have always respected them and the mythology around them. I chose two runes, Uruz and Tiwaz. Uruz, for internal healing and strength, Tiwaz for the ability to persevere, to survive battle know matter what. I didn’t want to look at the symbols, I didn’t even really want others to see them. I wanted them to lead the way. To keep me going.

I got Uruz on the arch of my left foot, the bottom. Tiwaz on the right in the same spot. The tattoo artist told me that it would ink out, that in a few years the tattoos wouldn’t exist. I didn’t care. I wanted the symbols to be with me with every step. And I wanted the pain that came with the tattoos.

For the first time, I wanted physical pain to dull the emotional pain raging inside of me. My aunt was gone. My indestructible, strong, always there for me, force of nature aunt had died, and I needed to survive.

I say often that play makes my brain stop. When I’m in sub space, when I’m flying, I’m not thinking about money or stress or partners or.. anything. I’m blitzed out on the endorphins, in a place past pain that I can only get to if I go through the pain.

Is that the same as all my other tattoos, where I sat through the pain for the pleasure of the adornment? Or is this like that first exception, where I traded one pain for another?

Why do I need to fly?

Yours, thoughtful


Are You In or Out?


It’s a loaded question in BDSM, with different consequences for different people one way or the other. When it comes to the community or the scene (note: I said “the” not “a”. “A scene” is very different) are you in or out?

I feel like I straddle the line a bit, between vanilla and otherwise in public. My social life these days is mostly in the BDSM world. My friends are all involved in something kinky or another, a normal conversation involves the word “dungeon” being said at least five times, and I’ve made a permanent divot in one of the big arm chairs at Wicked Grounds from all the nights curled up in it, be it with a book or with friends.

However I have a job that would probably frown on my extracurricular activities, and while most of my friends here know my interest I can count on one hand the ones from collage and further back that know. I suppose they know something of my submissive tendencies. I’ve had them since I was young (things like cooking and cleaning for others before myself, letting boyfriends pick my clothes, the food we got at restaurants, where we sat in movie theaters, etc). But they don’t know about official titles and have no clue I like to go to dungeons and get flogged in my spare time.

Kane is not in the Scene at all.. And in certain ways that is a huge blessing. The relationship between us is just that; between us. The play is somehow more intimate, and we can talk and chat freely when we aren’t in the middle of a scene. Being with him means that annoying cliquey social climbing that seems to have infested the BDSM world is nowhere in sight. Yes, he’s been a Dom for a good fifteen years. But his name doesn’t flow from people’s lips in the community and no one is vying to be his toy or his lover or his sub and edge me out of my spot. His standards are also slightly different as far as protocol goes. He gets off on service and submission, but he doesn’t care if I’m kneeling the right way or know all the proper positions. He’s not worried about having me kneeling silently at his feet while he talks to another dom in public. He cares that I give myself fully when I am with him… And oh do I.

At the same time I am drawn to the social aspects of BDSM. I like dressing up (or I suppose undressing?) and going to the play parties with my head held high, confident in my appearance and in my belonging to this world whether I choose to play or no. I love that outside play is a choice, that everything is about consent. And sometimes I really love to feel my ass warm and sore from a flogging that pushed me to sobbing.

It’s a need in myself I don’t quite understand yet, as it only flairs occasionally. There are times when I crave being strapped to the cross, people or no, and whipped until my legs turn to jelly and I’m flying. I don’t care about fucking in those moments. Just push me. Show me how far I can go; how much I can take before I think of uttering the word “yellow”. Take me to breaking but don’t push me over. It’s a fine line that I only desire to dance over on occasion.

I very rarely crave pain. I’m a service bottom. I crave tasks. Duties. Chores. Homework. Things I can do to please my Dom. The floggings and the beatings are an itch I need to scratch once a month or so… And it seems those opportunities arise at play parties in public dungeons.

Another aspect I love of being in the scene is the close-knit protective community. Maybe it is because I am a submissive, but I have some fantastic Doms in my life who just… Protect. Socialize. Teach. They don’t want to dominate me specifically. Heck, a handful are gay and I don’t have the proper bits to please then if I wanted to! They just… Surround, in a safe, reassuring way, and have explained so much to me over the last couple of months.

This is probably partly to do with my appearance. I look much younger than I am, with big brown eyes and a heart shaped face. I’m also TINY. The threat to someone of my appearance can be very real… And I am starting to notice that in good Doms the instinct to protect submissives is as natural as breathing. They watch out for newbies in the community and make sure they aren’t harmed as much as they can. Some of them put serious weight in the “under protection” label on fetlife and Godde help you if you cross them.

In or out… It’s a balance for me, I suppose. For others it’s different. For some jobs, children, or spouses prevent them from fully diving in to the community. For others it’s just not their thing. Others crave the buzz of people around them in order to enact a scene to the best of it’s potential. Others still will do nothing but flog outside of the privacy of their own bedroom. The extent of how far you are into this world is up to you.

Thank you, as always, for listening to my thoughts.


Secret Agent Sub

“So, what are you doing for the three day weekend? Anything exciting?”

“Oh, nothing too exciting.”

Just, you know, getting fucked by an attractive British Dom on Friday and going to a play party at a dungeon Saturday night. You know, normal stuff.

“Awe. Well a calm weekend can be a good thing from time to time.”

Oh yeah..calm. Calm’s one way to put it…

I’ve finally delved into the world of BDSM outside of just hiding at the local kink cafe when I don’t want to go to my apartment. Fetlife has proven to be an.. interesting tool that has led me to a whole mess of events, chats, munches, etc, and some interesting people as well.

Over the past week my life has fallen into a relatively normal rhythm; work by day, kink by night (of some sort). Which is odd. I work in a profession that..well.. it wouldn’t be the best if people found out what I do in my spare time. My job is pretty open minded, and tends to be inclusive of all types of people. They have no issues with my piercings, or my dyed hair. But I am new at it, and I don’t like taking risks I don’t have to when pay checks are on the line. And I LIKE making big girl paychecks.

So.. my kink world, which is increasingly taking up most of my social life, is kept pretty quiet in my vanilla world, outside of my roommates and some close friends.

The first time I really discussed the idea of anonymity it was at a poly discussion/support group a week ago. A teacher was there, one with a very strict admistration, and she talked about the fear of running into one of her students at something, or worse a parent. It was brought up that if someone went to an event they then wanted to be seen at that event; they’ve opened themselves up to that. That doesn’t help with reactions into the vanilla world, however.

My coworkers must think I’m incredibly boring. Every time they ask what I’m doing for the evening it’s either “Oh, just hanging at my favorite coffee shop to chat with some people” or “grabbing a bite with some friends”. I’ve made myself sound incredibly vanilla… which is probably for the best, because I’m slightly struggling with this split world.

I was involved in the Craft community for a very long time, to the point where I had some damn good connections back east. However, for a very long time of that I existed under this split personality that seems to be forming with my kink life now. In the Pagan/Craft community there is something commonly known as a Craft name, a name that someone was known as in circle, or ritual, or when they went to certain events and socialized with certain people. Their mundane name wouldn’t exist there. I had my Craft name for a good five years, balancing the mundane with magickal training and trying to get my first degree. I wanted to be a high priestess, to teach, but after a while I was so lost in separating the two worlds that they both began to fall apart. I ended up leaving the coven that had become like family to me on bad terms (see previous blog post) and got rid of my Craft name completely. It wasn’t as simple as saying “I’m not known as this anymore.” It was going through and changing Facebook information (Yes, I had a Facebook profile for my Craft name. It still exists somewhere, under the changed name.. I just haven’t gone on it in about two years), going on forums and changing “about me”s, or just deleting everything all together. It was deleting an entire identity, a large part of myself, because I was determined to instead mesh that part of myself with my mundane self and be one awesome magickal person, open about my faith and proud.

Well.. it didn’t exactly work that way. I still very much identify as Pagan, but my practice has been… lacking since I moved out here, for many reasons. But my personal faith is a separate journey in and of itself, this is supposed to be about kink.

Why I ended up going off on this tangent is because I’ve started seeing similarities between my old Craft community and the kink community I’m diving into. Some of the people I’ve met are fucking fantastic, others are eh… but it’s like that in any community.

The big similarity is the cliques, and the incestuous behavior inside of the cliques. Everyone is sleeping with EVERYONE. One group will trash talk this Domme or Dom while another will hold them up on a pedestal. Go to this event, such and such is running it and he’s fantastic. NO don’t go to that he neglects his bottoms and always ends things like this. The same trash talking would happen between high priests and priestesses in different groups back home. It’s why I pulled away from the east coast Craft community, because of the ego trips becoming suddenly more important than the magickal working. It was all about social climbing.

I suppose the ego trips, the cliques, the gossip, they are a part of all of this kink scene. People want to protect partners, either by sending them to good people or sending someone away from another they are trying to protect. Navigating this community may end up making my brain explode if I let myself dive too far in.

I want to meet people, I want to learn, but I have no desire to have it be my only social life. That’s what the coven became, and that wasn’t healthy when I was in it. Replacing that with kink isn’t healthy either. I think.. for now I will be skidding just on the surface of this community. I want to meet and get to know and explore, but actually getting involved with people?

I’ve played a little bit.. it was nice… but it’s hard for me to believe in no strings attached sex. Get deep enough into this community and the strings attached are the chain of command, of the Dom’s other sub who has a sub who has a lover who has a Dom who has a slave…

Head hurt yet?

I need to figure out how much of myself I’m willing to reveal to this world, how much I can combine my vanilla life with my kink life. That will take time.. I want a “normal” kink world, a pattern, a group of people I know and am comfortable with before I fully dive into doing this. I don’t want to always have to be a secret agent Sub, splitting her life in two. Vanilla by day, kink by night.

So, that means more munches, more events, and being careful about who I consider playing with. This means more talks with Sir and trying to understand this world more and more. It’s certainly one that I want to learn to be a part of. I just don’t want to become part of an uberclique.

It’s a definite learning curve. I have to say though, it’s nice to be doing and seeing; nice to find out what’s actually out there, and start thinking about what I would like to be a part of.

Time to go off and do some vanilla activities with my (mostly) vanilla roommate 🙂 We’re off to the museum today!

More later, as always