#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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
#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.
#14 – Does religion have any bearing on your decision to submit? If not, are you familiar with religious based submission and do you view it as similar to other types of submission or dissimilar?
While I was baptized and confirmed in the Protestant faith, my religion has little to do with my daily life today. I don’t attend regular services or really take part in an faith-based activities anymore. I’m really not a spiritual person. With that in mind, my religion (or, more accurately, my religious upbringing) don’t have any bearing in my kinks or need to submit.
I’ll admit I know nothing about religious based submission. I don’t see that ever really being part of my kink. It doesn’t have a part in my vanilla life, so I don’t see it playing a role in my BDSM life either.
No, of course not. I just thought you said you were heading upstairs to get dressed. He walked over to brush my bare stomach. Grabbing our son’s school folder, he walked back over the counter.
I think I need to change to a white bra and I know I have a clean one down on the drying rack. I walked into the laundry room and chose one of the lacy white bras that I washed earlier that day. What are you doing?
I’m just finishing up the paperwork for parent-teacher conferences. Did you decide where you want to go for dinner?
No….I thought you said you were doing paperwork. School folder abandoned, he was now back at my side rubbing my nipple piercings.
Wanna play? Of course, he already knew the answer, but I put on the innocent smile anyway. I started to squirm a bit away from him and he reached around to slap my ass. I giggled through a ‘No’ and started laughing. He reached for me again, but we were both stopped in our tracks by the barking.
Our dog, a ten year-old boxer rescue, is a very sweet thing. She is a daddy’s girl and I’ve often said that she would turn on me and the kids in an instant for him. However, his recent action would prove me wrong. Her barking increased until he stepped away from me. As soon as there was space she got in-between us and turned to him. She continued barking as she sat on my feet.
I couldn’t stop laughing. Apparently her face was priceless as she stood her ground to ‘protect’ me. Even when he tried to assure her that it was okay, she refused to move. I bent down to tell her that I was okay. Even rubbing her belly and scratching her ears she kept her butt on my foot and wouldn’t let him get close.
It was the sweetest thing. And she eventually did forgive him his perceived abusive transgression. I think she’s been a little bit more attentive to me though. I would’ve have thought that in all our previous BDSM fun that she would have witnessed him hitting me before. So I don’t know if it was just context, or because I said ‘No’.
In any case, it was really funny. After we both realized that we had not emotionally scarred our dog, of course. I was just so impressed at her immediate reaction and the way she came to my aid; even if it wasn’t necessary. I’ll just have to remember never to take her to any play parties or the poor thing would have a conniption.
I think my answer shocked us both, but I walked away before my mother-in-law could comment further.
I wasn’t shocked that I said it to her. She and I have always been direct with one another and I rarely hold back with her. It was more that what I had just shared was actually true.
Obviously, I want my children to be safe and happy, they need to have food and warm clothes. But they do. They have everything they need and rarely want for anything (except Legos and candy).
Outside my children, however, I am running on emotional empty. My new job is fine, except for my Devil wears Prada boss. My sex life is non-existent except for masturbation videos occasionally shared with my transcontinental lover. And our bank account dwindles while my husband talks about numerous things we can’t afford that he still wants.
I think my current solution seems to be to just emotionally shut down. I’m not saying that this is a good plan. In fact, it’s probably the worst plan, but I’m out of ideas. My doctor has increased my meds, but it will be a few weeks until I notice a difference. Everything I try to reach to make my husband and/or boss happy flies back in my face. So sex and job satisfaction have just disappeared from my to do list. I can function without them; other people do it all the time.
So for right now I’ll just walk around and pick up toys and ignore my bosses glares. I’ll try to lose too much empathy as I continue to shield myself from whatever this is. I just feel bad about complaining, so I don’t. We haven’t experienced a hurricane in Ohio and we still have our health insurance. It could be so much worse and me not having sex for months just doesn’t seem to make the cut. But I still feel the lowest I’ve ever been, and that’s not a pleasant thing for me.
On the positive side, I can still shock my mother-in-law.
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#13 – Is sexual availability, being available to your partner any time he or she wants, part of your submission? Why or why not? Are there limits to this?
Sexual availability is huge for me. I think it’s easily one by my biggest kinks. It was also my first kink realization. Being ready (shaved, wet, etc.) for my partner is a huge turn on. The idea that I am available for use, even when it may not be the most convenient for me is important too. Stopping in the middle of a round of dishes is more than worth my Dom getting their desires.
I think, for me, it all boils down to being craved. The idea that they have to have me right now. They can’t wait another minute. The idea that I could make someone feel that way is so amazing. Even if I weren’t eager for sex before, the idea that my Dom couldn’t stand to wait another moment to use me would certainly have me wet post haste.
The reality that I would be that attractive to someone is, I’ll admit, somewhat difficult for me to believe. But trusting someone to be my Dom and take care of me would mean putting my trust in them. That would include believing them. So if they wanted to use me, I would have to believe that it was because they were truly attracted to me. Not an easy thing for me to accept, but it’s always been something that I’ve wanted to work on within the safety of a D/s dynamic.
I’m not looking for D/s or kink to magically fix my self-esteem issues, but sexual availability would certainly force me to deal with several aspects of my poor self-image. I don’t want it to seem like I’m looking for a Dom to fix me (not holding my breath there), but I would appreciate help in working on my flaws.
As far as limits go, I guess just within the hard limits that our relationship includes. I have two kids, so there may be some instances where their care would have to come before sex. My availability couldn’t threaten my job either. But in general, common sense terms I would happily be available whenever our dynamic is active.
Check out my 30 Days of Kink to read my previous answers and those who are writing along.
He had a tattoo. It was one of the first things I noticed about him. Honestly, it’s the first thing I notice about most people. But there was something that caught my eye from across the room.
Rope. It was so close to my lace that I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It weaved around his arm in this interesting pattern. There were even items and symbols within it that I couldn’t make out from across the room, just like my cameo pieces. No wonder he wore a sleeveless shirt under this suit jacket.
All the Doms finished hanging up their jackets and began mingling around the bar getting drinks. I stood with the other subs as we finished removing our clothes. Some collared subs walked back over to their Doms for direction; one woman crawled. Those of us without a partner sat together. We chatted about how good the dinner was, and what new sex blogs we’re reading. It was nice to sit and chat with them, but I kept an eye on the tattooed Dom.
He didn’t appear to have a sub, the was sitting with a few other guys at the bar. I kept watching him and telling myself to go talk to him. My confidence just wasn’t letting me get out of the chair. One of the other subs saw me staring and encouraged me to at least go say ‘hi’. She didn’t recognize him as a regular. I told her that I really like his tattoo; she told me that that was a good start. I felt like a teenager wanting to tell a boy I liked him.
I’m sure it was because I was staring, but one of the Doms he was sitting with noticed me and pointed me out. I couldn’t avoid it any longer. I thought about crawling, like the one earlier sub, but I thought that would be a bit too much for an initial meeting. So I set my drink down (luckily just water as I’m sure alcohol would have made me even more nervous) and walked over to the bar. He had turned toward me when the Dom pointed out my staring, but I still bowed my head as I approached.
“Hello. My name is Rye. I really like your tattoo.”
“Hello Rye. My name is Stephen. I like your tattoo as well. Is that why you were watching me?” I was pretty sure the shade of red that my face turned was evidence enough, but nodded anyway. He smiled. “Would you like to come sit with us Rye? We were actually just talking about Master/slave tattoos.”
I smiled and knelt down on the floor. If I’m honest, about half out of respect and half because there wasn’t an empty chair. Stephen smiled at my gesture and brushed a strand of hair out of my face. It was very sweet and I could feel nervousness subside a bit. The conversation quickly returned to lock and key tattoos. I just sat and listened for awhile, but when Stephen asked my opinion I had an answer ready.
“Kink tattoos in general really appeal to me. I have a tattoo that represents my submission as a whole, but I would be hesitant to get a name, kink or otherwise, tattooed on me. I prefer symbols to represent a person or relationship, rather than a name. You can remember a period in your life for it’s good points, but sometimes a name can carry a negative weight.”
“See Stephen, if you were smart like her you wouldn’t have had to get that huge cover up on your arm to remove your ex-wife’s name.” A few of the other Doms chuckled and my eyes went wide. I was so afraid that I had offended him with my opinionated mouth. I sighed at my own stupidity and waited to be sent back to my sub’s table.
Instead, Stephen reached down and rubbed my shoulder. When I looked up he nodded to let me know he wasn’t mad. He traced one of my larger cameos and followed the lace down my arm.
“Rye, would you like to get a drink and private table with me?”
Considering that I thought I had just offended him, I balked for a brief moment. His face was so kind, however, that that concern vanished quickly. “That would be wonderful. Could I have a cream soda please, I have to drive home?”
Stephen ordered our drinks, helped me up, and led me to an empty table across the room.
“I didn’t even know they had cream soda here.” He said as he pulled out a chair to let me know that I didn’t have to kneel on the floor.
“Yeah, they get it from a local brewery that also makes a root beer. It’s quite good. One of the bartenders recommended it when I said I was tired of being the DD who always got diet pepsi, now it’s all I order.”
“Sounds like you could teach me a lot of the hidden gems of this place. How long have you been coming here?”
“About three years. A previous partner brought me for demo sessions, but when he moved on and stopped coming I stayed. I like the community here.”
“I’ve been coming to Dom meetings here for a few months, but this is my first member dinner.”
“Well, I hope you’ll keep coming. Assuming, of course, I stop making a fool of myself with my comments and opinions.”
“Don’t even worry about it. It was my own fault for getting her name tattooed on me in the first place. It was supposed to be a surprise for her and she hated it. Guess I should have know then.”
“Whoever did your cover-up did a great job. It looks amazing. I have a huge thing for rope, so it caught my eye immediately.”
“You don’t say. Well, you should see some of my other tattoos.” He leaned back in his chair and took a drink.
“Yes, please.” I grinned as he smiled at me. A jolt of excitement and nervousness ran through me. I set my drink down on the table as my hands were starting to shake a bit.
I really wish I had asked for something a bit stronger than cream soda.
To be continued…
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