Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

Control Me, Control Me Not

Control was always a bad thing when I was young. I rebelled as any teenager does. Occasional alcoholic drinks, staying out past curfew, shirts that looked too tight for my mom. Rules and methods of parental control always seemed easy to push back against.

So why, as an adult, am I so attracted to the idea of control? The thought of Sir telling me what to eat, what to wear, and how to spend my time is not only arousing, but also completely relaxing. I don’t want just anyone telling me what to do, but when he does it I swoon. And it seems so odd when I think about it. If Sir would tell me that all I was going to eat was broccoli for a week I may not be too happy. But his explanation of concern for my health would at least keep me from brating about it.

Control is a positive part of my life is still very new. Or, it was…

I don’t mean to sound bitter, I really don’t. I’m working on the facets of our BDSM that have been put on the back burner for awhile. It’s been hard to let go of that desire for control. Being yelled at for snacks and another glass of milk by my children just isn’t the same.

But, just because we’re taking a break from this aspect doesn’t mean that it’s gone forever. And I have started using some personal controls to help me stay focused. Today is all about cleaning and making the piles of laundry and dishes disappear. Going back and forth to the new house during the week has wreaked havoc on my chores. Maybe I will turn up the heat and clean naked. Wrapping presents naked next week is also on the list. I think a photo op with bows may be in my future.

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