Chasing Me Chasing You

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

Nothing Good Can Come From This

“When you were having sex with her, were you thinking about me?”*

This question always confused and angered me. Long before we opened our marriage or I even considered being poly. First, wouldn’t it be terribly sad if that was the case. Presumably they would thinking about you out of malice and not any sort of positive feelings. Who has sex with someone and thinks, “Man, I really miss my girlfriend, this sub-par pussy will have to do”? And, because I think about things like this, how sad is that for that other woman (the sub-par pussy one)?

If both people sign up for a consensual, non-connection fuck, that’s one thing. But I personally know it would crush my ego to find out a guy had been thinking about someone else the whole time. Masturbating is one thing, or even fucking during porn and picturing me as someone else. Since I am someone who looks for an emotional connection with anyone I fuck, an old girlfriend would be a low blow.

Which leads me to my other issue with this direct statement. I’m not going to generalize as I certainly don’t know the manipulative capacities of all men. But, in my experience, guys are not thinking about the consequences of fucking while they are fucking. I don’t either, if I’m honest. Now, I’ve never played ‘pull-out pregnancy roulette’ as my family is as fertile as they come. So that may be something else all together.

Also, as far as I know, I’ve never been with a guy who was cheating. In my experience the guys who have fucked me weren’t thinking about how an ex or current girlfriend would feel about the situation. I’m not saying that to be egotistical, I honestly believe it to be true. Some other girls face in place of mine? Maybe. But I still would hope it wouldn’t be a past lover.

There is one more issue that this trope brings to mind for me. An admission, if I’m honest, about my own thought during sex: I don’t much. I wish I could say that whenever I have sex with someone I am 100% focused on them. Hell, I can’t even say I create a rich fantasy in my head of myself and Ryan Reynolds flying off into the sunset on his private jet. Nope, the best I can usually do is several moans and some ass grabbing (if my hands are free).

It’s not a personal thing, and certainly not a reflection if my relationship with said other partner. It’s that what I am physically feeling completely takes over my brain. During breaks I really try to make eye contact and focus on my partner. As we shift positions or move from one sex act to another I try to check in. This is generally because once said activity starts, my mind goes completely blank.

Trust me, I know how pathetic that sounds and I wish I could do better. Part of me thinks that is why I like blow jobs to much; I can completely focus on my partner. During sex I register what I am feeling physically and whether or not it feels good. How I feel about it emotionally usually doesn’t hit me until later. Which is probably why I look for guys that I have an emotional connection with. I need to trust them enough to know that they will be around for the aftercare portion of the evening (even for non-BDSM sex). During sex I let go and float along with all the pleasant feelings and moments of no responsibility. Having someone hold me as cold, hard reality slaps me in the face once again is nice.

This double-edged sword of a question also has a changing significance for me now that I’m poly. I guess I generally want my husband and Jack, or any other future partner, to know that when I am with them I am focused on them. And, I expect the same from them. I like the idea of Jack missing me and thinking about me, but not when he’s with another woman. If, for no other reason than I don’t want him thinking about them when he’s with me.

Poly, at least for me, doesn’t mean that I’m thinking about other people all the time. Whether you are emotionally invested or not I think you should be able to respect your partner enough to focus on them during sex. And, even if you don’t, consider your answer to the above question carefully, though any answer is likely to be wrong.

I should also add, if you ever find the urge to ask someone this question (or a variant of it), don’t. Even in the heat of a fight. No answer will make you feel good or win the argument. The very asking of means you’ve already lost.

*I should clarify that I’ve only really ever heard this used on television. A few sitcoms and daytime soap operas (when I watched them) would bring it out from time to time in order to add even more drama to a fight. I’ve never met anyone who has actually use it in an argument. But then, I also don’t have a lot of close friends that I talk about my sex life with. Except all of you, of course.

Finding the balm

Pain is never the problem; it’s only a symptom, your body’s indication that something is “wrong over here.” In this way, your body tells you, almost instantly, that your finger hurts and you are able to deduce that it is because you are touching something that is at such a high temperature as to present a danger to the skin and muscle cells in your finger. You feel the pain, but the pain isn’t the problem. It’s just a signal.
This is just as true for emotional pain as physical pain, but it’s harder to address because the body’s natural mechanisms for expressing emotional pain communicate much less clearly than their physical counterparts. When something bad happens, it just sort of hurts “inside”. Sometimes, as a result of lives spent following the source of pain straight to the hurt that caused it, that leads us to believe that the “problem” is also inside us.
But it might not be. More often than not, emotional pain is the result of a disembodied hurt that exists in the space between two people, or between a person and an idea, out in the semiosphere where the person extends themselves outward, looking for a connection. Humans are built around the need for connection. When we fail to connect, whether because of misunderstanding, miscommunication, or even just unfortunate timing, it hurts and we feel it “inside”. It can feel like getting slapped back, put in your place. And because there is no anthropomorphised administrator of this wrist-slap, there is no one to give you clarification or context for the rebuff, and you are left to try and decipher what happened and why and whether or not it was your fault.
The other problem with physical pain, even when you can find the right source, is that it is often the result of a hurt for which the balm is completely counter-intuitive. Afraid of spiders? Spend time with spiders. Anxiety speaking in public? Try speaking in public. Devastated by the rape you just can’t bear to think about? You should find someone to help you think – and talk – about it. Obviously this strategy doesn’t apply to all – or probably even most – hurts causing emotional pain, but I think it is often a part of the solution.
To be clear, my advice is NOT “walk it off”.
My advice is this: If you hurt on the inside, don’t forget to look outside yourself for the source of that hurt. When you find the source, don’t let yourself have any blindspots about what will make the hurt lessen.
If you find out that you hurt because of a failed connection, don’t give up on connection. Try to reconnect. If you know your hurt comes from multiple failed connections, change how you try to connect. If you can’t understand why the connection failed, talk to someone on the other side of that connection to understand, even if it’s painful to do so.
BDSM is a great way to practice emotional healing. For people who like to be humiliated and degraded sexually, that kind of play, when healthy, should start and end with communication about the players’ value as people, even if that’s not the surface-level matter of conversation. When two people talk about what is and is not a limit, the conversation is inherently based on mutual and co-extensive human validation. When the scene progresses through and someone is shouted at/pissed on/kicked into the mud/locked in the dark/made to feel alone, it is still based on this same validation. Aftercare, when done right, is a song of validation as two fulfilled (and sweaty) bodies come together to reaffirm each others’ and their own humanity. We can only play with these ideas because we are human enough and smart enough to believe two contradictory things at the same time. In that moment, we connect.
And it is the CONNECTION AS YOU EXPERIENCE IT (your half of the semiotic connection as you extend yourself outward looking for something), not the validation you hear coming from some other person, that gives you what you need to begin to heal.
You can heal yourself, but you can’t do it alone. Let your pain lead you to the hurt, even if its where you didn’t expect to find it. Examine the hurt to find a balm, even if its the opposite of what you expected. If the hurt comes from a bad connection, keep connecting. When you identify the connection you need to feel better, don’t forget that the healing you experience is the result of your actions, and it is YOUR healing. Own it. Own all of it.
– Sir.


There is a huge difference between sleeping on the floor on Sir’s side of the bed and sleeping alone. One is an expression of his ownership and my service. The other just sucks.

Sir has been sick the last few days. After several stressful work days last week and trouble sleeping over the weekend, he woke up Monday with a terrible stress headache (apparently called a vector headache). Meds, hot pads and massages, don’t seem to be helping. Even the blow job only provided a short reprieve. On Monday night I slept in the guest room so I could deal with the baby and Sir could just focus on sleep. The baby was up and down all night. According to my fitness tracker I managed to get 2h 14m of sleep and I don’t think Sir faired much better.

By last night Sir’s headache had moved to his eyes. Even with his sunglasses on he couldn’t have the lights on. He tried to rest most of the day. I started off early with coffee, but started to fade by early afternoon. Getting dinner around was rough as the children had a lot more energy than either of us and they really wanted to play. They weren’t too bad though, I just felt bad that I couldn’t keep up. The toddler did help me to do my workout after the baby and Sir went to bed though. I certainly felt old with him running circles around me.

Sir decided that he wanted me to sleep in his bed. He decided the guest room could get darker and the mattress felt better on his back. So we slept with a wall between us again. It’s so lonely. When I sleep on the floor next to the bed, he can reach out and touch me. He is always close. It feels so selfish to want him back in the room with me. Obviously I want him to feel better. I just may ask to sleep in bed with him for a few days once he is back to his old self.

Last night was better. He seemed to get a good night’s sleep and the baby even let me rest too. The whole house felt rejuvenated this morning. I just hope that Sir does ok with the bright lights of the office.

I know this isn’t a scene, as far from it as possible, actually. But I have a real urge to ask for aftercare once he is feeling better. Cuddling with him sounds so nice after these last few days of stress and little sleep. And maybe, after some recovery, we can get back to some harder play by the weekend. Assuming, of course, that something else doesn’t come up between now and then.


I chose to write this blog as a way for me to work through the process of becoming the submissive (now slave) that Sir wants me to be. I have found throughout my life that I can write my feelings much easier than I can express them verbally most of the time. Whenever I am struggling with an emotion that I cannot quite pin down I always find writing helps, even if it starts as babbling.

Sir has been supportive of this outlet for me, but I also need to talk to him. I know it really bugs him when he learns that I am struggling with something when he reads it here rather than me talking to him first. I’m sure that’s where the ‘you can’t know anything I don’t know’ rule came from. And I appreciate that he wants to know how I am doing.

But as a submissive I wrestle with this. How do you evaluate your Dom’s performance and share your feelings while still being a respectful slave? In our case, he is learning too. It won’t always be perfect, we both know that. But I get punished when I mess up to help me grow and learn. Needless to say, I cannot punish him. But I do need him to understand how certain things that he does have an emotional effect. He doesn’t want to break me just yet (at least I hope not).

We are both just trying to find the best way to keep everything honest and open while still being respectful. I don’t want to seem like I’m whining because I’m not getting everything that I want. But how much of not getting what I want is just part of being a sub and when does it become a problem? Unsatisfied does not necessarily mean unhappy, but where is the line? When do I need to stand up and say ‘okay, that’s too much’? I don’t mean safewording in a scene. I mean after the aftercare (or lack thereof), when I finally reflect on what I am feeling and attempt to put it into words. When I feel ignored or dehumanized or unloved. And I know what you’re thinking, that all those things are just part of D/s sometimes. And that is my problem. When does it cross the line from ‘suck it up, buttercup’ to being a consent/abuse issue? I know that Sir would never want to push that line on purpose, he loves me and wants this to be fulfilling and satisfying for both of us. So I hate the idea of getting worked up about something if I should just be accepting the experience as it is.

I know that we will eventually lose the need for this. Once we get everything settled in our dynamic and work through all these bumps, these types of conversations will fade. But right now they are hard for me to work though. I get very emotional when I try to tell him what I want. I just feel immediately guilty and whiny when I critique a scene or emotion from the night before. But I know that if some things continue I would begin to get emotionally beaten down. The results of which neither of us want.


Rye: I am sorry Sir.

Sir: Disappointment is not anger, Rye, remember that.

Rye: I know Sir. I would rather you were angry.

Sir gave me several orgasms last night. His attentiveness was beyond generous. I was begging to cum, begging to be fucked, begging to be his fuck puppet. And he did. Pulling on my collar, holding me down, I was riding a serious high. So, when he picked up speed and came himself, I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t realize how close I was, and I got taken away with his orgasm. And I came.

Without permission.

And he knew. He knew right away.

“You came.”

Whatever orgasmic glow I had shriveled up in an instant.

“We will deal with it tomorrow. For tonight, you can just hold me.”

See, Dom’s can be sensitive. It was so nice. I know he did it for me as much as for him. It was hot and muggy and he still let me hold him and have that few minutes of aftercare that I really needed.

But I still didn’t sleep. Even after the conversation where he told me he wasn’t angry. But I’m not that kind of sub. Having him disappointed in me is the worst feeling in the world. I want to be punished. I want to be forgiven. Laying in bed last night I just wanted it to be over. I think waiting for punishment is the hard thing. I would be fine if he was angry and yelling and pissed off. But that look of disappointment is crushing.

Hope to keep busy today and try not to think about it. I mean, it will be all I think about, but I still need to get things done. The last thing I want is to disappoint him more.

She Escaped

In the interests of full-disclosure, I need to tell you that this is not my submissive brain talking. In fact, I have no idea who is talking or how important she is in my head. She may be a peon who is rebelling from her submissive queen (I have an ironic head).

But something struck me from one of the comments this week.

I think being stressed is such an inhibitor to functioning well on so many levels but what you really need to focus on is that unless your care for yourself well then you will be of no use to those who need you. It is not selfish it is necessary


So, I know this was in response to my depression post of a few days ago, but life happens and I keep processing it through all facets of my life. And I have concluded that its accuracy is so extreme that I need to eliminate as much stress as I possibly can.

So, here’s the rub.

I’m really sexually frustrated.

I’ll let you in on a secret. My sex drive is going crazy. And I didn’t realize that putting all of my sexual release into his hands would be so difficult. He has every right to use me and roll over and go to sleep. And I should be able to deal with feeling all turned on and gooey. I should be able to just go to sleep and be fine. But I’m not. I’m really not. It’s horrible. I have enough difficulty falling asleep, I don’t need a throbbing clit to make it worse. And nights that we don’t play at all are just as bad. At least when he uses me I feel useful.

I don’t know why this is a problem. If anything, we’re having more sex now than we were before D/s. Am I really just jealous when he has an orgasm and I don’t? Am I clinging to this messed up idea of fairness?

But, logical or not, I don’t know what to do about it. After a day or two (sooner if he revs me up) I am a mess. I get frustrated with the kids. I snap at him (not a good idea). I just feel myself getting tense and angry and tired, all at the same time.

Let me be clear, I HATE feeling like this (shouty capitals are purposeful). I don’t want to be jealous of his sexual release. I don’t want to be stressed out just because I don’t have an orgasm for a few days. And my worst fear is that this feeling won’t go away when I finally get my depression sorted out. That this frustration will remain.

I’m just trying to balance the very good advice of ‘it is not selfish it is necessary’, with my need to submit. I don’t know how to balance my desire to follow him and make him happy, with my need for sexual gratification. If I actually had time to sew or scrapbook or something, maybe I could de-stress enough to not need the release. Maybe that’s how I fix both the emotional stress and sex stress. I need me time. The only problem with that is dishes and diapers and life.

Maybe I should ask Sir to make ‘me time’ one of my daily tasks.

The submissive queen in my head is laughing.