Pick a Dom, Any Dom

As a submissive you are putting your life into a Dominant’s hands, and that can be downright trickyscarydangerousandfuckedup. I was lucky enough to be introduced to BDSM by my first real boyfriend Mike. Throughout the first couple of years of high school I was a pretty good girl. Then Mike came along becoming my best friend, my first Dominant, and eventually the man that stood next to me as I married my husband.

Mike turned me out.

My life has never been the same since meeting him. At the time he had a basic knowledge of BDSM. I was green. The more he showed me, the more I fell in love with him and this lifestyle. We were going strong exploring the BDSM as teenagers.  Then tragedy struck in my life, and while he tried to stay strong for me, we couldn’t make it work anymore as a couple.

We were young and dumb. I still didn’t understand that for me, I wasn’t just “playing a role”. That my submissiveness was a part of who I was, and not something that could simply be turned off when a relationship ended. Cue sub-drop of epic proportions. I can’t even begin to explain how dark that time was in my life. Mike and I remained friends, and he thank goodness suggested that maybe we continue the BDSM side of our relationship. In my head that simply softened the blow of not being together anymore. I didn’t realize that I NEEDED to submit. Which is why, when I was truly no longer in love with Mike I thought I could just stop submitting to him as well. We really were dumb. We started seeing other people, and the D/s stopped for us.

Another disaster, but this time, I couldn’t go back to him and kneel. I was lost. I remember getting on Fetlife and looking for a Dominant. I was going through that nasty nasty thing called sub-frenzy. Except I didn’t know it. I went through Dominant after Dominant giving myself emotional scars along the way. Not knowing what I needed, but simply that I wasn’t getting it.

Enter my dashing mentor. He served a similar purpose as to what ( Insert name here.. I really have to start learning some names) talks about in his Bigger Brother post. He helped me. He recognized my frenzy for what it was. He gave me the Dominance that I needed to be strong. He helped me understand my feelings; helped me understand what I wanted and needed from a Dominant; helped me understand that my thoughts were valid. That being submissive didn’t mean that I had to simply do whatever I was told by any Dominant, but that I had to find the right Dominant for me. For a while I really wanted that to be him. Sidebar:

I remember being in a hotel room with him after he’d provided me with my first anal orgasm. My gosh my body remembers that moment so well. He wanted to push me more. So we went to shower, and that night I ended up having my first and last golden shower. What still touches me about him, is that he didn’t allow me to simply say. I don’t like that lets move it to the hard limit side. He made me explore WHY I didn’t like it. I remember the Ah Ha! moment I had when it finally dawned on me that I do not enjoy feeling truly dirty. I don’t enjoy humiliation. It doesn’t make me feel good about submitting, but it sucks all the joy out of it for me.

It was little and/or big things/conversations like that that enabled me to become a stronger submissive. He let me know it wasn’t selfish or un-sub of me to know and ask for what I wanted. Now… truth be told because of that it took me a little longer to find the right Dominant for me. It was hard work, and there were some bumps along the way. A few relationships that still failed, but even those were more meaningful. My connection with those Doms were strong.

This writing all came about because as I was reading last night I came across a post where the writer relayed a conversation she had with a new submissive. In the conversation the newbie said something along the lines of ‘relationships are two way streets, don’t I get to pick him too’. Then this newbie was told NO. That she was simply to present herself, and if a Dom wanted her, then she would need to respond accordingly. That shattered me, and I politely disagreed. We as submissives are not meat to be picked over  as if meat on the the market. We have every right to choose our Dominants just as they choose us.

(Now, in a sort of Fetlife disclaimer if you are the type of subby to want that meat market style of life then so be it) However, not all of us are meant for that. Just life not all of us are meant to be 24/7 slave. So for those newbies, explore yourself first, and/or find a mentor to help your explore before you go off searching for a Dominant.

Never do you want to be in a position where you simply picking a Dom, any Dom, because your life is in the palm of their hand.

With all that said my experience was my own. I’d like to hear your thoughts on the matter. There should be a comment button somewhere down there… or up there maybe.

 

Just Who OWNS Whom?

Forgive any errors or odd trains of thought within this post. I wrote by the seat of my pants as usual, but I was exhausted when I started writing it and chose not to go back and edit, but to just pick up where I left off.

 

Anyone that has been in this lifestyle knows there are rules. For the most part I say fuck them. No one knows where the rules came from. No one knows why some people tend to cling to them as if their whole world would fall apart. Some things you just don’t say when it comes to wiitwd. One of my bloggy besties (can I refer to a Dom as a bloggy bestie? feels odd, yet fitting…) said one of those things.

He came out of the Dom watering hole, walked right into the middle of town square and said ‘ his submissive has all the power‘. The slightly amusing part of this was the title, and a request he had not to tell his submissive this secret. So I decided to let him in on a secret of our own. We know! *looks for lightening* If you are going down I am going down with you JK!

Now for all of you “rules” people, give me a moment, and let me explain.

I will be the first to admit this doesn’t apply to all D/s relationships. Though my guess is the better majority. Many of us subbies are strong, confident, amazing specimens of dominant women. One of my favorite shows is “Suits” have you seen it? Jessica Pearson is fucking awesome. She is one of my favorite characters. I see so much of myself in her. Essentially she is me, without a husband and child. I also see what the writers don’t write. You see, a woman like that can’t stand a pussy of a man. (rules people I KNOW men can be submissive too, but for the purpose of this post they aren’t attractive) Jessica Pearson finds a man that can go at her toe for toe. She finds a dominant man that can and will put and keep her in her place, and let me tell you she OWNS that man.

Kind of like how I OWN my Dom, and how Sofia (not to be too presumptuous) OWNS JK.  It isn’t some screwed up switch of the minds. The thing is these men are exceptionally strong—that is half of the appeal. Yet if they were to have an Achilles heel it would be their submissive. The D/s bond is so strong as submissives we have the power to turn our Doms into putty. Yet, we never will. We never use that power in a way that would destroy the dynamic we have worked so hard to build. We yield to them, and to their power with every fiber of our being. Hmm did I just define submissive?

Might I just say I am writing this knowing my Dom will never see it, and that these words, would never actually come out of my mouth in his presence. Full disclosure and all.

Forever Sir

This is the best day of my life. I thought that to myself Saturday evening when I was dancing with the best bridesman EVER. I thought that, until today, when I thought again, this is the best day of my life.

I am taking a minute to write, because I don’t want to forget a minute of how I felt this morning. I thought writing would help but I find myself at a loss of words describing my feelings. Great, wonderful, blissful, gleeful, complete contentment– none of those fit. So I will write what happened.

Sleeping in never felt so good. Brunch was at 11, and we partied too hard again last night. When Jackson and I finally made it back to our cabin It was 9:30 and I awoke to an absent husband. That was disappointing. It got better. I rolled over to see he was sitting in the chair across the room.

“Good morning Sir” … he didn’t respond, just looked at me. His face so unreadable I began to worry for a moment. His eyes moved from me to the floor. I obeyed promptly, kneeling at his feet, still slightly concerned.

““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““

A certain someone distracted me yet again. It has been days now, and my emotions from the moment aren’t as strong, but every word is seared into my head. I shall finish telling my story though.

““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““““

“It was difficult keeping this from you, but the moment had to be perfect. Timing is everything wouldn’t you agree.”

“Yes, Sir” I said head bowed. I could feel his eyes on me, his left hands smoothing the hairs on my head.

“Look at me baby” he said softly in an odd tone, for an odd mood. When our eyes met he was quiet again for a moment. “Saturday I made promises to you: to treat you as my own body; to stick by you through thick, thin, ugly, and nasty; to love you no matter what as your husband. Today, I make promises as your owner.”

Stupid tears came, I promise I didn’t turn into a complete blubbering mess.

“Today, I promise to lead you through your journey as you accompany me on mine. I promise to not only love you as my wife, but as my submissive; to never take for granted the trust and faith you’ve put in me.”

My head fell again, the intensity too much. Surprising me, he moved to the floor with me. Kneeling in front of me, he still towered above me. His hand finding my chin, he pulled it up.”Look at me. I promise to never forget the strength and courage you displayed in choosing to be mine. I promise to own you forever.”

The box sitting on the table went unnoticed until he reached for it. When he pulled my new adornment out I thought again this is the happiest day of my life. It was so beautiful. When he placed it around my neck the cold metal sent shivers through me. It was so heavy. He stood, and held his hand out to me. I took it and followed him to the mirror. The chain maille surrounded gorgeous gemstones that match my wedding ring perfectly. His eyebrow raised at me, and his lips in a slight grin, “would you like to say anything?”

I couldn’t speak. Looking at him through our reflection in the mirror, I was able to get out two words. “Forever Sir.”

When He Said. . .

“You’re such a filthy cock sucking whore, I love it.”

 

My heart swelled with adoration, lust, and love.

when he says

 

And I said. . . “Yes Sir, I am your filthy cock sucking whore.”

 

There was a time not so long ago I would have taken offense to such a statement. Moments like these lets me know that even when I don’t feel him pushing me. When I don’t feel him taking me places that I may not have wanted to go, he is. He subtly pushes me to become better version of myself for him, and I love it.

 

 

The Angry Dominant

Dominants are known for their control. They feel emotion of course, but it is rare, if ever, you will find them losing control of their emotions.

But when they do….

Just hope it isn’t directed at you…

 

I’ve seen Jackson visibly upset. I’ve heard the change in his voice when someone pushed the wrong button. I have seen him when someone touched me in a way he wouldn’t allow. I’ve seen his emotions range, but always cool, always collected.

A few days ago I saw him angry. I watched his face turn a color I have never seen before. I heard his voice lower to a tone I have never heard before. I watched the veins in his neck, and arm come to life. It was scary and it was HOT.

It is quite amazing what makes a submissive want to kneel. Seeing him like that, all that perfect masculine power on the verge of explosion (that wasn’t my fault) was by far one of the hottest moments I have ever witnessed.

The best part of all? He turned to me to make it all better. There is such honor in that. Being his haven of reason. Getting a chance to give him a little of what he gives me everyday.

The Invisible Ring

As soon as I titled this post, I thought about the hobbit. This is NOT a nerdy post, about middle earth.

A few weeks ago, or a month ago or so, I really don’t remember, and it doesn’t matter. We were watching How I Met Your Mother, Robyn and Barney just got engaged, and suddenly Robyn could no longer be seen by men. Her bright and shiny engagement ring made her invisible. Apparently, it happens, let me tell you why…

 

Yesterday I had a lunch meeting with a bunch of guys, my boss, his boss, a secretary, and a head hunter they were meeting with. Now that I think about it, I am not sure why I was needed. Yet I was there. Toward the end of the lunch I excused myself to head to the ladies room. When I came out the head hunter was there, leaning against the wall.

I looked at him questionably while I placed my compact back in my purse. He finally spoke “hi.”

“hello again” I said before continuing down the hall. He stepped in front of me. Way too close. My eyes narrowed. “What can I do for you Mr. Nguyen?”

“You clench your teeth when you hear someone say something ignorant. Did you know that?”

“Yes” I did actually, a lot of times my jaw would hurt after meetings like this. It is sad, but a woman must know her place at a table of men.

“Your eyes, they narrow slightly when you’re thinking of what to say, like you did a moment ago, like you are now.”

“I answered your question, are you going to answer mine?”

Ignoring my inquiry he said, “Have dinner with me tonight,” with that tone, making it perfectly clear that he wasn’t asking. That tone, that made my body respond in ways out of my control.  I quickly wondered if he had pegged me some way. He smiled, “you’re doing it again.”

“My fiance wouldn’t appreciate that.” I swallowed watching his reaction.

He reached for my left hand, “A fiance that hasn’t appropriately claimed you?” I glanced at my hand and sure enough my ring wasn’t there. The slight differentiation in my skin tone gave it away though. His thumb skimmed across the ring of flesh. ‘Stop touching me, my god this is how things start’ I thought.

Retracting my hand, “I must have left it after cleaning the kitchen this morning. We should get back,” I said excusing myself.

 

So… the entire afternoon I had the fun time of trying to figure out exactly how to tell Jackson of my little encounter. This whole honesty thing is a pain sometimes. Then I realized, I hadn’t been getting hit on. It has been forever. That ring!! The thing made me invisible. I guess it I should see that as a good thing. It spares me the conversation I had to have. The guilt I had being turned on by another man. I am all for appreciating someones looks, and Jackson is free to look all he wants as well. Getting all turned on by some other female is out of the question. It was the tone though. I think I shall discuss that in another post. Along with the question about my being pegged. Yes, another post, until then.