Chasing Me Chasing You

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

Define Your Kink: Day 16

#16 – Have you found your submission has changed with different partners/relationships? If you’re involved with partners of both sexes, does your submission relate or change based on gender or does it depend on the person?

In one word…drastically. I guess technically I’ve only had two Dominants. But even my sexual relationships that doesn’t include submission have been noticeably different.

I believe there are several factors at play. One of my Doms was my husband, we lived together, and we were monogamous for most of our D/s. My current, and only other Dom is long distance and we are not each other’s primary partner. So the ways that we communicate and our expectations of each other are completely different. With that in mind I’m not sure if I can really conclude that my submission changes are based on one specific thing. So far, I believe it depends on the person.

With regard to gender, I’ve only had a sexual experience with a woman once. While I would love to repeat that, there wasn’t any submission (technically) in that encounter. I’m not sure I could have a female dominant, but never say never. If I did I am sure my submission would change. But again, that could be because of the person, not necessarily the gender.

I think right now my experience is so new that it’s difficult to draw firm conclusions. If we had played regularly with others or I had been loaned out to other Doms I may have more opinions. Right now I’m still trying to figure out my new submissive relationship while figuring out what went wrong as my husband and I tried BDSM. Not necessarily to ‘fix’ it, but more to learn about myself and my needs.

Check out the other questions in the 30 days of Kink and my answers so far here.

Sir’s First Task: The Basement Part II

Sewing desk before cleaning
Basement Pre-Clean 3

Waking up on Saturday morning I was more motivated than I had been in a very long time. After reviewing the photos I sent, Sir had given me my marching orders. I needed to clear my sewing table so that I could realistically use my sewing machine. Hopefully that would encourage me to find more time to get down there and use my private space to refresh. Also, as the boys get older and search out their own private time, I could use it more regularly. I also needed to clear the catch all table so that I could use it for sewing prep and other creative projects.

So with coffee in hand and a background noise of The Great British Baking Show on my laptop I began to clean. I decided to focus on the black table first. It was where I had hoped to set up my laptop when I was down there, and have all my stationary materials. I am a big fan of handwritten notes and I have a large stash of postcards that I enjoy sending to family and friends. They are just a nice way of letting someone know you are thinking of them. And I love getting mail.

Cleaned stationary desk
Basement Clean – Stationary Desk

Sorting through all the paperwork took the most time. I have a pretty good organization system for our receipts and important papers, but when I don’t have time to file everything, it gets thrown in a pile to be sorted later. Later had finally come. Luckily, mixed in with all the important bills were lots of items that could be recycled. And once I got going, sorting out the important bits and the surplus paper went quickly. Trying to jam them into my file cabinet took a little time, but I got there.

Cleaned sewing table
Basement Clean – Sewing Table

Separating items into what I used for stationary and what I used for sewing helped me give the tables different uses. And my collection of little boxes were perfect for all my thread and sewing trims. I was pretty happy with the way both spaces turned out and I really hoped Sir was too.

I sent him photos as well as the ‘after’ photos I posted on twitter. I was so relieved when he wrote back that he was impressed. I even got a ‘good girl’. It was the biggest self-confidence boost I’ve had in a long time. I was practically gooey just hearing that he was proud of me. Sometimes I worry that I have daddy or general parenting issues because of how much I want someone to be proud of me. It’s the nicest compliment that I can ever receive.

All this meant that I went to the office yesterday feeling good, which hasn’t happened in awhile. It’s amazing how my productivity during the weekend and my interactions with Sir can affect my entire week.

Sir has given me the week. I am hoping to use my sewing space a few times and enjoy my hard work. Then we’ll see what he wants me to tackle next. There is a lot down there that doesn’t belong to me. And even more that needs sorted and sold. So I hoping that this project may force the issue on a few things. Or, if nothing else, get me to box things up and store them on the other side of the basement. Keeping my office mine.

So I am sure there will be more updates as this task continues. And I’m sure I will write more as my submission is allowed to grow. This is the most submissive (and likewise best) I have felt in a very long time. I hope Sir allows me to continue to serve in any way he sees fit.

cleaned sewing table and stationary table

 

Sir’s First Task: The Basement Part I

I have an IUD. I’ve had it since the end of 2014 and subsequently have not had a period since around the middle of 2015. Which sounds amazing, and does have certain perks, i.e. I’ve saved a lot of money on tampons. But even though I don’t have the cramping, I still have the emotional drop and mood swings. It makes my depression medication work extra hard to get me through the day and often fails miserably. And, considering the day to day issues I’ve been having with my boss at work, I was dreading this month’s drop.

A blue and white baby quilt.
A baby quilt I made in 2014.

I also love to sew. Since moving about a year and half ago I’ve had my sewing machine set up, but I’m not sure I’ve had it on more than a handful of times. My grand designs of having several quilts ready to go to give as gifts for Christmas last year fizzled quickly. And between all the job, kid, and husband stress over the last year my space has been largely ignored. But making things is a huge confidence boost for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love to write, but having something tactile in my hand is a different productive feeling. I’m sure if I ever had a book published it would feel the same. Something I made. Even better is when it’s appreciated and/or used by someone. I think that pulls back to my submission and caring for others.

All that plot exposition was all to prep you for my first task from my Sir. We were talking about my low mood and I mentioned sewing being a good outlet for that. He had asked about it and all I could really come up with was that my creative space in the basement had become a catch-all for various things.

The basement from the bottom of the stairs
Basement Pre-Clean 1

I dramatized it a bit about how bad it was, but I’m sure in my head it was that bad and that’s why I wasn’t motivated to clean it up. He told me to send him pictures when I got home from work on Friday; that maybe this would be a good project for me.

I was honestly surprised at how good I felt just thinking about a task. It had been so long since I’d even been presented with the possibility. Even through my emotional fog, I felt motivated to try and get back to something that made me happy. When I got home I immediately went to downstairs to take photos. I’ll admit I tried to get angles that would show the worst of the piles.

Basement mess from the couch
Basement Pre-Clean 2

It may not have been as bad as I originally described to him, but it wasn’t great. I had cleaned off the couch the week before when we had to take the kids down for a tornado warning. I think the angle from the couch is what was sticking in my head when we were talking. I think it’s just the piles that threw me off. And the amount of stuff that isn’t actually mine. Everything from records that were left in the house when we moved in to clothes belonging to my mother. My creative space had been overrun by things that needed sorted and/or sold. But, without this motivation it would probably continue sitting like this until closer to Christmas when I need to wrap presents. Though that would be more of wiping my arm across the table so I have a flat space to work. This was going to be a much larger task.

Define Your Kink: Day 15

#15 – Has your submission evolved over time? If so, how has it evolved for you? If not (or if you are just starting out) how might you see or imagine it evolving in the future?

Yes, though I will say that I my need to submit has always remained and even grown.

My submission has had several twists; even in the few short years that I have found it. When I started this journey nearly five years ago, I thought I was just looking for a bit of weekend fun with my husband. Something to spice up our relationship and allow me to relax amidst all my stress and depression. Very quickly I fell in love with the idea of submission. I wanted to be a slave. I wanted to be taken care of by my master. I wanted to serve. And I think with that love grew expectations that my husband could never meet. I was adding more and more desires with such speed, that it took him stopping everything to slow me down. As much as it hurt to hit it, that concrete wall in the middle of the highway the only thing that forced me to reflect.

Removing my collar was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. I think I cried more about that than I did during childbirth. And I stepping back I’ve been able to better define my needs, not just my wants. I want to be a human pet. I want to serve and be spoiled. To be cuddled and fucked and rewarded for my good deeds.

Being without daily submission is a struggle. Sir and I talk every day, which is lovely. But the distance is difficult. So many of my relationships seem to be that way anymore. So, with a distance submission has come more evolution. I need to understand that Sir says what he means, which is often difficult through text. I have always been one to read too much into things, so I have to be careful. And it’s hard feeling like I’ve actually served him when I’ve done nothing more than let him know I made it home from work safely. When he’s had a long day I just want to rub his feet and make him coffee; it’s hard that he can’t depend on me for those things.

I’m sure as my submission, distance or otherwise, grows it will continue to change. Hopefully I can find new ways to serve and feel my submission. Needs and desires change. If you had told me a year ago that I would be without my collar and hardly having sex once every three months I wouldn’t have believed you. I have a husband, a lover, and a dominant and they all want different things from me. And I get different things from them. Eventually I will figure out how it all fits together and how the special people in my life can support me as I care for them.

Check out my other Define your Kink answers and the upcoming questions.

Define Your Kink: Day 8

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

The short answer is: yes.

In my previous dynamic with my husband we incorporated spanking as a punishment. This was done with bare hands, belts, whips, and canes. Usually this would part of a larger scene, but on occasion was done for specific infractions.

I found that my success rate with it largely depended on what happened afterward. I know that seems silly, but it always had the largest impact (pun intended) when there was solid aftercare. If it was merely an explanation of what I did wrong, several spankings, and being sent on my way, I faultered. The spanking wasn’t enough of a ‘punishment’, as odd as that may sound. I would continue to beat myself up (figuratively) about my mistake. If, when he thought I had been properly corrected, told me that I was still a ‘good girl’, and that I was forgiven, then I responded better.

My current dynamic with my Sir has only been long distance. He and I haven’t had the situation arise where punishment has been necessary. And, as much as I would love to keep it that way, I’m sure it will need to be discussed at some point. He and I have largely looked at spanking as a form of play, not punishment. But I know it’s something he practices with his primary sub, so I’m sure it will feature in our relationship in some form.

Check out the other Define your Kink questions and answers that I have done do far!

The Ordeal of the Nipple

Or probably more accurately titled: My ineptitude causes my own pain.

So for those not following along (no judgment, I can hardly keep this mess straight from day to day), I got my nipples pierced last year. This fall they had healed enough that I took out the barbells that were a bit too big and put in black rings. I wasn’t a huge fan of them when I bought them and they never really grew on me. While I got the piercings for my husband, I wanted them to at least look cute. And the black rings were way too drab for me. As often as I try to show off my breasts, I want them to look nice.

So as I embark on this new form of D/s with a new Sir, I wanted to try a fresh start. We aren’t at a place of collars just yet, but I really wanted his opinion on this new jewelry. During one of our conversations I sent him a few links to some designs and we both agreed that the heart keys were the cutest. My husband was on board and bought them last week. I was so excited when they arrived. I ended up getting pissy with the kids as they wouldn’t go to bed fast enough. Finally  they remained in their rooms long enough for me to call it a win; if they got up now it was their own therapy bill.

In my eagerness to get them switched I grabbed the ball on one of the rings and began to unscrew it. That was the easiest and last pain-free moment of the evening. With the ball released I attempted to pull the ring free from my nipple. It caught several times and pinched like a bitch before I got it out. I looked at my husband with the realization that this was not going to be the fun, quick process I had hoped for. It faded even more when I tried to put the new post in. I couldn’t get it to go in, not even a little bit. It was catching on something, and whatever that something was, it hurt a lot.

After struggling for a few minutes I had to stop. I was tearing up and it was getting too hard to see. My husband attempted to intervene at this point, which was sweet. It didn’t actually help and it hurt even worse, but I appreciated him rubbing my arm while he did it. After a bit more whimpering we stopped for a break.

He had a good idea to try and use lube to help, which turned out to be the answer. I got the first key in place and quickly twisted the end on. It pinched my already sore nipple, but I didn’t care. I was so worried that I wasn’t going to be able to get in place. With no where to turn at that time of night, I was worried that my piercing would close up. As panic set in and the pain of the first nipple worsened, I decided to forgo the second.

My husband brought up an ice pack for my sore nipple. He suggested I go to the tattoo parlor in town after work the next day to see if they could help me get the other post in place. And we were both concerned at the amount of pinching that the first was causing me. I was awake most of the night. The random pangs and pinches kept waking me up and keeping me from any kind of restful sleep.

Work the next day was torture. I was writing to my Sir how the pain would occasionally turn to arousal (not that that was a good thing at work), but it didn’t last long. The soreness in my right breast was intense. I was starting to worry that my ham-fisted actions the night before had left my piercing infected. I felt so stupid for buying jewelry online and worried that I had just wasted money (of our very tight budget) buying something that I couldn’t even use.

I tried not to look too defeated as I walked into the tattoo parlor after leaving the office. The woman who does their piercings there is super nice. I explained my predicament and she immediately waved me back to her station. With a simple, “We’ll get you fixed up”, she did. Apparently my bars were too short and that is what was causing the pinching. So she modified my pretty jewelry by simply switching out the bar with a longer one. Then she gave me tips on how to remove my jewelry more carefully and put it in without all the pain (lube was the key; my husband was on the right track).

It took less than ten minutes and my boobs looked amazing and the soreness was nearly gone. I wanted to give her a hug, but went for a big tip instead. Waking up this morning, after sleeping much better, the pain was completely gone.

Hopefully I will get a chance to take the Sinful Sunday photo that I want tonight and you will get to see my cuteness properly. If not, the quick shots I took for twitter will have to do for now. But as panicky and painful as the other night was, I did learn a lot.

  1. Lube is always the answer, for everything.
  2. I’ll get a million more tattoos before I get anything else pierced.
  3. Y’all are going to be seeing a lot of my boobs over the next few months, cause they look damn cute with these keys.

Workshop Pet

He handed me his empty coffee cup and got up from the table. I walked over to the sink to rinse it before putting it in the dishwasher. He stepped out of the kitchen and came back a few seconds later with my green leash. I was pretty sure I squealed with excitement as I ran over to him.

“Would you like to come to the shop with me for awhile pet?”

“Yes please, Sir.”

“You promise to be good and stay on your bed for me?”

“Yes, Sir.” I put my on my best innocent face and smiled sweetly. The last thing I wanted was to be left in the house alone.

“Good girl.” Click. The leash snapped onto my collar and I fell in step behind him as we headed out the back door.

The walk across the backyard to the workshop was quick. Sir had gone to the hardware store earlier in the week, so I knew he would be itching to get to work. I had hoped he would allow me to come and watch. As we approached the door to the shop I bent down and got on all fours. Sir likes that I have chosen to honor the workshop by always crawling as I enter. In fact, aside from one sexy interlude where I was thrown over a work bench, I was always on my knees or lower in the building.

Sir turned and smiled at me as he opened the door and I crawled in. The workshop was a remodeled three car garage. Sir had put a lot of work into making it meet his needs. Now there was room for all his equipment, his materials, and finished work that was ready to sell. Sir walked over and clipped the leash to the ring he had added to the side of his work bench. I nuzzled his leg as I moved onto my bed underneath his design desk.

There were two big tables at the ‘work’ end of the shop. One for design and detail work and one for this lathe and saws. When he first started allowing me to come out with him he bought me a bed to sit in. This was to be sure I stayed safe and not get underfoot. It also allowed for me to be able to give foot massages and other ‘services’ while he drew plans or did bookkeeping. The bed was made of soft minky material and I even had a blanket that stayed in the shop. He had also built a little shelf for a few toys and books so I didn’t feel ignored while he was working.

Sir walked away from the desk to grab some wood samples and paper. I sat cross-legged on my bed and enjoyed just watching him focus on his work. He soon sat on the stool directly in front of me and began to draw. The radio was tuned to the local rock station and it was all I could not to sing a long. I gave Sir’s pants two small tugs. The music volume lowered.

“Yes, pet?”

“May I service you while you work?” I watched the bulge in his pants twitch as he considered my request.

“You may, but I have to do some machine work in a bit, so when I say stop you must not pout.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

I reached for the button holding his jeans. He scooted forward on the stool so that I could release his cock and remain under the desk. My request must have pleased him as he was throbbing as I greedily took his cock from his jeans and began licking and kissing him. The smell of him mixed with the smell of shop was such a turn on for me. I took him deep in my throat and he moaned over the music. I wanted to take my time and savor him, but I also knew that this, while pleasant, was distracting him from his work. So while I massaged and licked him, I also took him deep and tried to push him toward orgasm.

I wanted him to cum. To hear his moans as I helped him find release. He didn’t always let me do this when I came out here, so I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. I continued my pace as his left hand reached under the desk to push my head further on his cock. His grip on my hair tightened as his muscles began tiny thrusts into my mouth. I ran my tongue under his shaft and licked down to his balls. He groaned and with two hard thrusts emptied himself down my throat.

Holding my mouth still over his cock I rolled my tongue around him as he continued to twitch. I could feel his cum sliding slowly down my throat. We sighed in unison as he pulled out of my mouth and zipped his jeans back up.

“Good girl. Thank you for your service pet.”

“The pleasure is mine, Sir.”

“Are you going to take a nap, or can I turn the music back up?”

“I left one of my Judy Blume books out here, so I think I will read. Please feel free to listen to whatever pleases you. Thank you for asking.”

“Good girl.” He reached down and caressed my cheek as I settled down in my bed to read. The music turned up. Fat Bottomed Girls made me smile as I rubbed Sir’s leg one last time before curling up and enjoying his presence for the afternoon.

Wicked Wednesday for post Stockpiled Cravings

November Goals

The last few days have been pretty rough. I wasn’t in a great place on Sunday and things went down hill through the afternoon. Sunday night I was a crying mess. I think my poor twitter boyfriend and Jack were both ready to strangle me through the internet. I just couldn’t pull myself out of it.

In the end Sir and I had a good talk. It was long and emotional, something which usually causes us to avoid it at all costs. But we have been drifting too long; we needed this to figure out how to come back together. Work stress and various other things have been pushing on each of us the last few weeks, and it finally came to a head. In the end we were both feeling a lot of the same loneliness and overwhelmed confusion. And, as usually happens, we realized our silliness and had some amazing make-up sex.

So…on a completely different note, I have decided to take part in two ‘events’ going on in the month of November. The first (tangentially related) is All Anal November. It’s one my 101 Things goals and something I’ve always wanted to try. We are setting some rules that oral is still allowed (because Sir still wants to be able to demand his cock be sucked). Basically I’m not allowed any vaginal penetration. No dildos, nothing. My pussy is already twitching in desperation. But, Sir wanted to look at enemas as a regular thing, so this will give us the chance to try that. Who am I kidding, I’ll be whining about how much I want fucked within a week.

The other thing I’m attempting this year is NaNoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to write 50,000 words, or a rough draft of a novel in the month of November. I have an idea and a chapter outline, we’ll see if that’s enough. I’m supposed to aim for around 1,700 words a day to stay on target. With trying to write sexy things on here and write that, it should be an interesting month.

A lot of things to look forward to and to keep me on track for the next few weeks. Weight-loss, writing, and lots of anal sex. This might be my favorite month this year.

Societal norms and how they fuck with me

I spent my formative years in several different states, school districts, and houses. The bulk of which, however, was in a farm house and small school in western Ohio. A large, rural community with almost exclusively conservative undertones. As much as my parents ingrained their own liberal values, I was (I realize now) constantly affected by the societal expectations of my community.

Fast-forward to present day. I have a BDSM relationship with my husband and we have decided to open up our marriage. So, what do I do? I jump in with both feet. I had been talking with Jack from Jack and Jill for a long time on twitter. When the chance arose to meet him and his wife for a few days of fun I didn’t waste time considering outcomes. I went to California earlier this month and had a fabulous time.

The problem is, however, that I had a fabulous time. Jack and I connected on more than just a sexual level. We had more in common that I would have guessed. We just clicked. I’ve never laughed and orgasmed so much in two short days.

But when I left for Los Angeles, and even more so when I got home, I became confused and scared. What did our new relationship mean? Was I special or just another conquest for him? Would he ever want to see me again? How can I really ask him to consider me a part of his life when we live across the country and he has so many other partners?

Sir and I talked about my distress. And he mentioned something that really made me step back for a moment. He said “society leads women to believe that to be successful in a relationship they have to ‘land’ a man. There has to be commitment solidified, especially if sex is involved”. At first I wanted to argue with him, but in the case of my family and community, he was right. And I think that’s why I couldn’t help feeling like I failed with Jack.

Society was telling me that Jack should have been falling all over himself to propose to me. Telling me that our sex was the best he ever day. Which, a) he’s happily married, and b) if he told me I was the best sex I probably wouldn’t have believed him anyway. In order for it to have been a societal success he would have promised me something (I’m not even sure I understand what that would have had to have been).

But all relationships don’t fit into this fairy tale mold. Open relationships are fluid. People can have an enormous impact on your life and you may only see them a few times a year. Just because Jack cannot be a physical presence in my life everyday doesn’t mean that he isn’t special. And it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care about me. We just have to find a way to rework those ‘traditional’ perimeters of what we are to each other.

More importantly, however, I need to let go of these assumptions about what we can and cannot be. Labels have always bothered me, but I do hate it when I don’t understand where I stand with someone. Society would have enough trouble accepting my married with a lover status. Trying to find a definition of what being a ‘lover’ means outside of cheating is impossible.

Jack and I had a wonderful time. I also enjoyed the time spent with Jill in the evenings. Jack and I consider each other lovers and I’m sure we will find a way to see each other again. I’m going to try my best to leave it at that and not pressure him for more or demand less from myself. Society, and my local community, doesn’t know anything about kink life anyway. He can be my lover that no one needs to know about besides my husband. Because honestly, it’s none of their business anyway.

Revelations Summarized

With Sir and I opening up our marriage and my recent trip to California (if you haven’t read my recap posts, you should, they’re hot) I’ve been emotionally confused lately. It’s just a lot to wrap my head around, apparently. Poly, open, non-monogamous keep flying through my head with everything I’ve experienced mixed in. So far it’s all positive, which is good. But there is so much societal crap to ignore and labels to understand that I’m still just starting to sift through it.

Submission, Who Knew?

The one thing that really shocked me was how much of a submissive I really am. I know that seems silly as that is what this entire blog is about, but it was. I guess I had an idea that I was only submissive because of Sir. That that was why my other ‘loan’ experience didn’t work out so well. Apparently that may not have been all me.

It was one of the first things that I talked to Sir about after I said goodbye to Jack at the train station. How almost unsteady I was being pampered and spoiled. Being told that I feel amazing and I look hot aren’t usually the words being spoken to me during sex. Without an order following it, I’m sure I looked downright confused as Jack and I played. Having that focus and attention was quite heady. A large part of my continued arousal was due to his positive response to my body and my sexuality. Sir decided that Jack would be his perfect wing man. He could play with and abuse me and then send me to Jack for aftercare. Honestly, I wouldn’t have a problem with that at all. I would just have to live closer so I could get aftercare on a more regular basis.

For those keeping score

My ‘slept-with’ count has gone from 4 to 6. And I have crossed the threshold of my hetero-flexibility by having my first sexual interaction with a woman.

It was stressful.

Not because of anything that she did, I just didn’t want to fuck it up. Especially as the night before I had watched her husband fuck her and make her cum hard, repeatedly. It’s a tough act to follow. I think I was more nervous than anything. Not about her body (which was lovely) or going down on her (which was great). I think it was just performance anxiety. Like with the blow job, you want to do your best work.

The last thing I wanted was for her to think that I shouldn’t come back because I couldn’t please her. Not that she would say that, because she’s a lovely person, but still. I didn’t want her to regret my coming. Sir had also asked for video proof of this event, which Jack was more than happy to oblige. So there is a near ten minute video and several photos that I’m sure Jack and Sir will review more than once. Hell, I’ll probably watch it a few times too. 🙂

What ‘poly’ means to me

This vacation has got me thinking a lot more about poly and what I would want from a secondary partner. And honestly, it might not be kink. The idea of having a non-BDSM partner as a secondary, or even a few non-kinky lovers sounds kind of good. It feels weird to think that. But having my boots taken off for me and my legs kissed
felt really good. Going on ostensibly what could be considered a date (in this case just a break between rounds of sex) was amazing. And getting to chat in the car in traffic, try a new restaurant or cuisine, and just talk about anything was nice.

I love doing that with Sir too, but we have a different dynamic, even when we are one a date.  Our conversations are ruled, generally, by our responsibilities. We will talk movies and politics on occasion. But work, family, and the kids rule a typical evening out. I think it was just refreshing to meet and be able to talk religion and politics with someone other than Sir that has similar views. I’m more than happy to have a debate type conversation from time to time, but having someone on the same wavelength feels good too. Looking at more of a pet relationship rather than a Dom dynamic. Someone to pamper me and say how pretty I am. I would be Sir’s slut and my second’s insatiable princess. Spoiled and cared for.

And notice how I just say ‘second’ once. The idea of having multiple partners to balance and maintain seems overwhelming at best. I just don’t see myself being able to handle that kind of open relationship. I can, however, see myself falling hard for one or maybe someday even two other people. Much more a poly-amorous set up than anything casual.

Needing a label I do not want

Sir was recently trying to set up a date.* I’m really not sure how to feel about it. I’m obviously worried about him finding someone. And I’m jealous as Jack lives so far away. But it is making me think about how I classify myself. The last few days Sir and I have been talking about how we are in a ‘BDSM Poly-Open’ relationship. I
just don’t know how to label, but I don’t know if that’s simply because I don’t like labels. I want Jack to be my secondary. But I think I would take it personally if he didn’t classify me the same way.

I just don’t know what certain labels mean. Is there an expectation of gifts for the holidays? Can you have multiple secondaries?  As much as I hate labels I keep searching for them. These past few days have brought out a lot of emotional pull from me. I think I just need to remember that Jack has done nothing to make me question the genuineness of what he says.

The pain of cravings

He treats me differently than Sir. Not that one is right or wrong. Each is perfect for them and both make me feel amazing. Sir is my dom and my husband. He is supportive, understanding, and always knows what I need. Sir calls Jack my ‘aftercare’. He flatters me, cuddles me, and makes me laugh. We have so much in common
that we talk about almost anything, and our mutual appreciation for sarcasm makes us quite the pair.

Neither is a replacement for the other. But that also creates problems as I crave both. I think that this confusion and odd overwhelming is normal. I’ve started reading a lot and continued conversation and support from both Sir and Jack has helped. I just want to make sure I’m there for them as well. However, I don’t want to ask for more than either can give and end up hurt. It’s a balance that I haven’t quite reached yet. But they are worth the effort. As, I hope, am I.

**Sir has since decided to hold off as far as actively looking for a play partner goes. I think once his business is up and running he will feel in a better place about it. But he supports me and my relationships outside of him.