Chasing Me Chasing You

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


You know how you can have good days and bad days. Everyone does. My depression ebbs and flows like that too. But it can be triggered by anything. I think some of it is the PTSD, some is just weird old me.

So when I got in the bathroom this morning after the boys had left I found this.


I always had to replace the soap. That was my task. When it got low, I would grab a new one. If I forgot, he would yell from the shower. During our TPE I would be punished if I forgot. Needless to say, I rarely forgot.

So this box is just one more nail in the coffin of our D/s relationship. Aside from the obvious issue of him leaving the box on the counter for me to clean up (because…men). It was just hard to see it there. Like I had failed again. Like I couldn’t take care of him. One more way I couldn’t be what he needed.

All from a bar of soap. Or at least a box that used to hold one.


I realized that following Tuesday’s post I look like I was giving up. And I feel the need to clarify my decision to ask Sir to remove my collar.

I wasn’t giving up. And it wasn’t an easy choice. It’s been a few weeks of considering and figuring out if it was even an good idea. And I still don’t know, but it’s no going back now. As hard as it was in that moment, it forced both of us to look at where we were and face some pretty serious demons.
Sir has been distant. It’s been weeks since we’ve had a scene. We dropped back to pre-BDSM sex levels. My sex drive has been driving me a little crazy, but I’ve been trying to be patient. I don’t like the idea of pressuring him into having sex with me. I just kept feeling him drift further away. He stopped enforcing rules, all our protocols, everything. If anything, it felt like he was giving up. I know he wasn’t. But the emotional drain can put all sorts of ideas in your head. But as much as I have been stressed with this home remodel and the kids, he has been getting ready to start to his own business. He has a lot more reason to be distracted. But I’m a needy slave who is struggling to understand that I can’t be the center of his universe all the time. Or even most of the time.

So I thought it would be a wake up call to talk about the collar as it defines our dynamic. Maybe this bump is just a bump. They happen, just like in any relationship. But what if it’s not just a bump? What if we need to take more than one step back to assess? I really wanted to make sure that I wasn’t overdramatizing a small hiccup.

In my opinion I wasn’t. And, luckily for me, neither did he. So Wednesday during the drive to family we had a good talk about what needed to change. Over the last few days we have brought up past issues and concerns that he has had and we have tried to come up with ways to circumvent them. This long weekend has been about the boys and our parents. It’s been a cabin with close quarters, but we have still tried to keep conversation going, even if the dynamic is on hold.

The next few weeks will mean change. We are trying to come up with a new structure. Master/slave just isn’t working like we both want. Possibly an Owner/pet scenario, or maybe something more esoteric. We have talked about a switch idea. Me taking charge during the day, in a FLM-type set-up, with Sir taking over at night. This would let him focus on work when he needs too, but still report to me and feel like he needs to answer to someone. I can do what I need during the day, without completely losing my connection to him. Then at night I can sink into my submissive headspace and he can be guiltless with his needs. It’s a work in progress. Probably to take on several forms before we settle on something we are both happy with.

But this is part of the process, right? Trying new things until we find something that works for the two of us. What is BDSM but the trial and error of finding how your kinks work in your everyday life. At least I found someone who is willing to stay through the failures until we find the perfect dynamic set-up. What more can a demanding, sex-crazed, stressed, slightly masochistic submissive ask for?

Slavish Emotions

I am selfish. I want to be selfish. I want to be tied to the bed and be Sir’s entire focus. Can you be a selfish slave/submissive? A submissive can negotiate a scene that is all about them, but how does a slave?

I just find it hard to balance my mindset of making his life better and occasionally needing sexual itches scratched sometimes. And then feeling guilty when he does give it to me. I feel like if I have to ask for it, then he doesn’t really want to do it. I mean, we are at a place in our M/s that if he wants to do something, he does it. So by sharing that desire, am I pressuring him to play how I want? So is that really making his life easier?

I think I over think things. I mean, I know I do. But here’s the issue. Sir and I don’t have the same kinks. We love each other, so compromises are worth it. But figuring out that give and take is the hard part. I am not keen on him having sex with other women, but during scenes would that be a compromise? Am I weird for being more comfortable at the thought of him having sex with another man? Somehow I am less afraid of a male sub as he would be less likely to replace me.

Part of it is just where to start. Does it have to be even? Are double standards ok? How do we come together from such different angles. I am a submissive nymphomanic. I like bondage and rough sex. I also enjoy varying levels of control and humiliation. Sir is a sadist, pure and simple. He likes to control his subs through physical and emotional pain. He enjoys sexual dominance and domestic servitude. But how do I take the hard hits like he wants?

And now the new ‘problem’ that I realized yesterday. When I disappoint him I hurt so much. Last week I sent him a text about the Kink of the Week being about nipple play. Apparently his phone was within view of his coworkers. He texted back in all caps. It was bad. No one saw, but I didn’t know that until he got home. It was the longest day I’ve had in a while. Knowing that he was disappointed in me was crushing. And, is that really a good thing? I know for a slave mentality it’s great. I should always want to please him. But, on the rare occasion that I slip up, should it really stop my day like that? I completed my daily tasks, but all I wanted to do was cry. Feeling like a failure for the entire day.

Honestly, I don’t want to live like that. Having a mistake or accident completely ruin my mood. Sir was in meetings all day and couldn’t message or call me to let me know that he wasn’t really that mad. That his yelling response was a knee-jerk reaction and it wasn’t that big of a deal. But I didn’t know that until he got home from his trip late in the evening. I was certain that he was pissed at me all day. Now, obviously, I do everything I can to please him, but when I don’t I can’t let it crush my mental state. His control runs deeper than either of us knew. And I’m worried that that’s not a good thing. I mean, it’s a good thing, if I can process it better.

That is what it comes back to, I need to learn to process slave emotions. And I obviously need to learn to ramble less.

Stove Top isn’t for everyone

Relationships are like stuffing recipes. Every family has their own take on what a traditional stuffing looks like. Even if they go for a modern take, spices and ingredients change from house to house.

However, since Sir and I have added more and more BDSM into our own relationship, I have found this strange pressure to fit into a prescribed box. Slave means this, Master means this, etc. etc. Like we can only be M/s to each other and nothing else. People don’t actually say that to us, but there is a ‘right way of doing things’ mentality.

But Sir and I are weird. Anyone who knows us, kinky or not, will tell you that. And fitting into prefab boxes has never been good for us. Lately, we have gotten so wrapped up in those labels that we are forcing the activity without any of the fun. For me, it’s all about the connection between us. That’s how I can manage to take pain that normally wouldn’t arouse me. The connection of seeing his pleasure lets me relax into my own.

But complete M/s just isn’t working. We have too much with the kids and the new house right now. Maybe if we were more established in our routine I could handle it, but right now it’s just not going to happen. I need help. I want to be stronger, better, faster for him, but right now I’m not. That’s not to say that I’m down on myself. Just realistic. I’ve been on my meds for about six months now and worked through a lot with counseling. But that isn’t to say that my depression has magically disappeared. I still have triggers for that and my PTSD that will pop up from time to time. The meds just help me manage everything day to day. And the new stressors, even though they are positive, create new challenges.

So Sir and I are trying to work through how to make things work with our kinks, keep them fun, and not go insane. It’s a tricky thing. Sharing is important. Which is oddly uncomfortable for me. I have this weird delusion about him reading my mind and always knowing what I want. Obviously, that has not worked. But telling him what I want and need is hard. I think that comes back to a general sexual repression growing up. Something that I need to work on for this to be successful.

But right now we have a lot to be getting on with. Sir wants me to be able to vocalize what I want and need from him. So we can see where our kinks overlap and begin to build our own labels. Our own box, probably with a lot more than four sides. Our own stuffing recipe that works for us. Knowing him, it will have hot sauce in it.



I’m just trying to take everything in from this weekend. Let me show you my dichotomy problem.

Stress relief.
Sir’s Stress Relief.

We need to talk about how much I hate tape. Not the duct tape, though I hate that too. It’s the black electrical tape that Sir wrapped the clothespins with. They stick to the skin and it hurts like a bitch. I’d rather have the splinters.

But anyway, this represents my weekend. We tore out a wall at the new house; at least two more will come down before we’re done. We are still trying to figure out what we’re going to be doing with the kitchen. We have a complete remodel planned, but the space is funky and we still need to figure out where everything is going to go.

The second picture was actually taken first (Thursday night, technically). This was the night that things went terribly wrong. Luckily, my mother-in-law took the kids for some grandma time on Friday. Sir and I ordered a pizza and did a lot of talking. We are both putting a lot of pressure on him. So we are taking a look at everything, maybe taking a step back. Clutching my collar a little tighter the last few days.

I’m worried I can already feel my attitude slipping. I’m not brating, but the thoughts enter my head more than I like. I’m weird about control. Things that I could easily let go of bother me a lot more. And the mounting stress of this renovation isn’t helping. I’m heading to the house two days this week, which is two days of paid work that I have to make up for. Then our budget for this reno is already tightening. At one point over the weekend we had water coming through one of the ceiling fans. Because, why not?

So I’m trying to take one day at a time. We are trying to take one day at a time. And I’m trying to keep everything in perspective. We’ll get there; and this type of relationship doesn’t just happen. Everything takes works along with trial and error. We were just getting so wrapped up in the labels that we weren’t having fun. To be fair, I’m not really having fun now, but at least we will be in the right space moving forward. I just hope that our pace isn’t completely halted by everything else.

I thought for a moment about going to get my hair cut off. A gesture of my ‘freedom’. And as soon as I thought it, I grabbed my long hair and couldn’t let go. I’ve got it bad.

Happy Slave Place


Happy places can be mental. A head space that one can call upon when needed to get them through a stressful or emotional situation. Usually coffee helps me through these. But for me, my true happy place is where I can just relax. Not have to worry about screaming children or mounting bills. Where I can think about nothing at all if I want to. This is a physical space for me rather than a mood or idea. Doing a relaxing activity can help; I enjoy sewing or reading. But these really only help for a short period. And Sir was becoming frustrated with my poor mood every day when he got home. He had enough stress with work and needed me to be a my best. So we both knew that I needed to try and find whatever it was that provided that place of calm and rejuvenation.

DSCN1546Over the last few years that place has been harder and harder to find. Everyone always wants something and I’ve run out of hiding places. Sir’s wants and needs are important to me, but those are a joy to give. Sir wants me to have a quiet place where he knows that I will rest. I can’t be my best slave when I am at my worst. So he decided that I needed a place where I could get into the right head space. He decided that sleeping next to him every night wasn’t good for me.

DSCN1547I’ve been sleeping on the floor on and off for the last four months now. And I can honestly say it has been some of the best sleep I’ve ever had. I am still right next to Sir; he can reach me if he needs anything. I always ask him if he requires anything before I fall asleep. But after he gives me leave to go to sleep I rarely lay awake for more than a few minutes.

It’s just a happy spot. I can stretch out. I don’t have to worry about stealing the blanket. I can lay on my soft pallet and see Sir’s collection of belts. It’s a very calming. For me it’s a representation of how much Sir cares about me. And how that manifests itself in different ways. DSCN1551Even a year ago, if you had told me that Sir loves me enough to order me to sleep on the floor I would have called you a fool (probably several expletives thrown in there too).
But it is a constant surprise to me how well he knows exactly what I need. Even when I don’t. I would never have thought that sleeping on the floor would put me in a happy place head space, but it does. Give me a book and a cup of coffee and I could spend my life there. Occasionally brought up on the bed for a suck and a fuck and back to my happy place I would go.


Click below to read about others’ happy places for this week’s Wicked Wednesday.
Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Twitter Query

@thes1lverf0x: Serious ? for my submissive friends for blog piece: what is the essence of submission for you? What’s important about it? DMs welcome.

This question was posted by @thes1lverf0x a few weeks ago. I keep coming back to it and changing my answer. The word ‘essence’ keeps throwing me. How can I possibly clarify properly what draws me to submission? Here is my attempt:

Submission is the feeling of being complete. When I finish a task or an order I have this sense of purpose. Not in a boastful way, but have an internal smile that I have met Sir’s high expectations of me. Before I found D/s, I was often depressed because I couldn’t meet my own impossibly high expectations. Becoming a submissive and eventually a slave forced me to let go of that negative cycle and trust Sir to tell me when I am not preforming. That was a lot harder than I originally thought. Walking away from my mother’s instilled personal requirements was difficult, but honestly one the best things for my emotional well-being. Sometimes I struggle with putting so much of my mood on Sir, but he has taken the challenge in stride.

I think submission, both inside and outside the bedroom, has given me the opportunity to discover everything that I can be. Having the chance to explore my slutty nature in the safety of Sir’s structure and rules has helped me to feel more comfortable. And, feeling more comfortable with my sexual and control fantasies lets Sir push me into things that I wouldn’t have considered. When I was judging myself, I would never have felt comfortable allowing anal play or any of the erotic photographs he’s taken. But by removing those insecurities and just focusing on pleasing him, I want to succeed. If he wants me to lose weight or shave better, he’ll tell me. I don’t have to worry if I’m good enough, which was always a problem in previous relationships.

It’s been two years since I read Fifty Shades and I experienced that pull toward a kinky life. Regular romance novels never drew that sort of response from me before. Whatever you feel about that book, it showed me a world that has made me happier than I ever thought I could be. And that is the essence of submission for me. In it’s rawest form it’s me finally finding a way for me to be selfish. I know, I know, that sounds counter-intuitive, but stay with me. I live to care for the people I love. I would fly out to L.A. to help my cousin find an apartment and I would stay up to talk to a friend whose husband is being a prick. Those things do make me happy. But submission is something that I do for me. Allowing myself to be taken over and at someone else’s whim is so refreshing for me. I don’t have to worry about holding the world together. I can focus on what Sir needs from me and giving everything I have to that. It’s a focus that I have never had in my vanilla life.

That is why I submit. I’m not sure if that is good or not. To enter it with such selfish motivations. That may be something that changes over time. In fact, since moving into 24/7 service, I have seen that begin to shift. My motivation is to show him how much he means to me. How much I want to be his. So that he knows that his control is the reason that I am so happy. Submission to him makes me whole.

Organizational Plan

Yesterday was all about a clean start, literally. I cleaned the house from top to bottom. Every room was scrubbed, vacuumed, and dusted. I even cleaned off the ceiling fans, which, if I’m honest, I’m not sure I’ve ever done before. They were gross. But it felt good to wipe away the dirt and grime. Not just because it makes my body twitch when I see how dirty the boys can make our house in one afternoon. But because I know it’s something that Sir appreciates. With his work hours he comes home tired and looking at a mess when he walks in the door isn’t really helpful. He knows that I have a lot on my plate, and anyone with kids knows that most cleaning is an exercise in futility.

So I was happy to see his smile last night when he got home. I think I was able to show him how much I enjoy my service. I don’t take it for granted. And it really gave me a chance to clear my head and remember what is important. Last night he used me and I wasn’t sure if I would get to cum. And the best part, I didn’t care. I came back to bed as satisfied as if I had an orgasm myself. To be used by him and to hear ‘good girl’, was the most relaxing feeling in the world. It reminded me why I crave this. I want to make him happy that I am his.

So today starts the next step in my organizational plan. I’m going to try and complete one small task each day. Probably not sexy, but something that will show him that I appreciate the chance to serve him and make coming home a little easier. The next few months will be hectic with the renovation and the move, so my daily tasks will help to chip away at that. Packing, sorting, cleaning, hoping every little bit will make a small difference. He’s allowing me to have the kids in daycare and preschool all day so I can be more productive; I don’t want to waste his generous gesture.

In any case, we are both feeling better today. Sir and I talked about some new rules regarding talking to him if I feel that we are getting too distant. Life happens, and I need to be more direct when that starts to get to me. As going forward, bratting (per his definition) will not be tolerated. He has enough to contend with and doesn’t need my poor behavior on top of it.

I’m sorry that my actions upset him, but at the same time, I’m glad we had this hiccup. We were able to work through it and realized a lot about how we deal with situations. We have a way to go, but I think, all in all, we processed it well. Not perfect, but well. These problems will happen from time to time and we’ll need to keep working through them. It was nice to know that we can without falling apart. We both want this enough.  That realization for the both of us was worth the bump in the road.

Two sides to every story

Every story of a fight that is. Each person has their version of events; their own hurts and grievances. There is probably a justified wrong party, at least at the beginning. But eventually, after enough yelling and mudslinging, everyone is at fault. It’s just a mess of confusion and just about everything you say is misinterpreted.

That is not to say that fights don’t sometimes lead to positive results. Sometimes yelling your feelings out is the best way to clarify them. And all the misunderstandings usually come out as each person tries to make their case.

I’ve found this to be difficult as a sub/slave. Sir and I have arguments about non-kinky things like the kids or housing decisions. So I have to find a way to stay respectful, but still fight for what I want regarding those topics. He respects that, slave or not, I still have to live in whatever house he chooses and right now I spend more time with the kids. There are still several aspects of our lives that (at least for now) I need a say in. But that doesn’t mean that I can yell or be bratty. Not something that I have perfected yet.

I also have to keep Sir’s whims in mind. If we get into a heated debate about something, he can quickly decide that a comment or gesture is taken too far. And backtracking, even if I stand by my opinion, is always recommended. It’s a hard line to follow. I’m sure, over time, we’ll find a better way to deal with these situations. Of course, I guess he could just tell me what we are going to do and not give me any sort of say. With the kids so young though, I don’t know that he wants all that on his shoulders just yet.

Besides, I think part of him still likes it when we argue for awhile. There is no cure for sexual tension quite like make up sex.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Time to Process

Well, the roller coaster has left the station. When the ride ends in a few months I hope we don’t have too many bumps and bruises. Our offer on the house has been accepted and now onto the next of a million steps. And you never realize how many steps there are to buying a house. It’s endless. But positive, so I will continue to check them off without complaint.

But the processing of which this post is titled isn’t actually about me or our house buying at all. It’s about Sir. Sir wrote a piece on Fetlife looking for some opinions on some play that he was interested in. He didn’t really get the response he wanted. And he was upset at how defensive he found himself getting when he felt attacked for his views. I think that hit him harder than anything. And that led to a very serious discussion last night. About his kinks and mine. How we are working to make each other happy. How all either of us really want is to make the other happy. It was late before we turned out the lights.

But we have a long way to go. And I’m not sure where it will lead. But having both of us just trying to please the other isn’t working. Maybe the 24/7 needs to go. Maybe it’s just not sustainable with our vanilla responsibilities right now. Maybe we were just venturing outside the bedroom a little too soon. On the other hand, maybe it is exactly what we need to get over this hurdle and strengthen our D/s bond. I just want to be enough for him. And I feel him pulling away from me. He says I’m sexy, but that doesn’t mean that I can give him what he wants. And I want him to want me like I am.

I asked Sir if he wanted to take my collar off last night. He said no. I was comforted by how quickly he responded. I held it while I struggled to find sleep. Through everything, I am his.