Punishment

So last night was a pretty big one for me. 

To start with, I received my first ever punishment.  Well, the last part of my punishment since we all know it started days ago.  I knew what was coming, it was that stupid studded belt and I'd been unable to think of anything else the entire day.  I knew it was going to hurt, but how much?  How badly was he going to hurt me?  What if I couldn't handle it?  Would he go straight in or would he make me wait even longer?  I honestly had trouble sleeping the night before.  The waiting and wondering is the worst part and he knew it.

When he came over I was cooking so we had to wait until the food was out of the oven before continuing.  It was this weird combination of relaxed, normal conversation with random moments where he'd grab my throat and just hold it for a minute before continuing.  I think he just wanted me to stay on edge, to remember that there was something coming.  Since, you know, that kind of thing would clearly slip my mind.

I had told myself that when it happened I would be good, I wouldn't beg and I would take it well.  I didn't beg (which I'm actually pretty proud of) but I definitely didn't take it well.  He started out with some normal spanking which hurt, as well as telling me things like how disappointed I had made him.  I think it was partly the fear of what was going to happen, and partly the emotional rollarcoaster that I'd been on for the past couple of days, but the tears started and I couldn't get them to stop.  He tied my hands behind me (since I have a habit of trying to fend off spankings, despite my best intentions) which made me cry even harder and by the time I heard the jingle of the belt I was sobbing.  And fuck it hurt.  The only redeeming thing was the awesome imprints and bruising that it left, but not worth it just for that. 

And so my punishment was complete.  It was exactly and completely different than what I had thought a punishment would be, but it served its purpose.  I don't want to cheat on our deal again.

Even bigger than this though was what came next.  It started out as a demand from him when I asked for a tissue that I refer to him as Sir.  Now I know I've talked about how many issues I have with submission and my worries about getting too deep and so this was a surprise.  He had said before that he wouldn't ever be interested in titles, and I had said that I didn't like saying them, so this was completely out of the blue.  I hadn't stopped crying from the punishment yet mind you and my emotions were still all over the place and this tipped me again.  I spent another ten minutes or so crying whilst giving head (which is really difficult I might add) until he stopped the scene all together and we discussed it.

I see his point.  We've kind of been heading here for awhile and it's the next step.  And obviously we're not just talking about how to address him, but what power that title gives him.  Our dynamic is still mostly only in sexual situations and it would remain that way, but if he's my Sir then he gets "ownership of my sexuality" as he put it.  This means continuing to ask permission for orgasms as well as asking permission when I want to be intimate with someone else.  He can say yes or no or ok up to varying degrees.  I have to admit, the idea of someone telling me I can't sleep with someone else is a bit jarring and my inner feminist gets vocal about it, but I wouldn't have agreed if I didn't trust that he wouldn't abuse it.  It's a turn on for both of us to know that he has control over my sexual life and it's comforting for me to know that he wants to look out for me and make sure I don't get hurt.  Plus, of course, he's a dominant guy and wants what's his to be his.  

I have some concerns of course, we are after all just starting out our relationship in general and this is a lot of trust and faith to put in someone you're still getting to know.  For me personally, I'm very afraid of being vulnerable and I feel that being this submissive to someone requires that you let your walls down.  You can't really give someone else the control if you're not letting them have access to all of you and being that open means that there are many ways to get hurt.  

In the end though, I can't say I'm not curious.  I can't say I'm not turned on and I can't say that I don't want this.  It might frighten me, but it also intrigues me and satisfies me and there's a lot that can happen within this that I might find joy in.  I used to say to people that if you're not willing to do the things that are big enough and important enough to be scary, you'll never end up doing anything worthwhile.  I'd actually forgotten about that until now, I think I need to start taking my own advice.  

And so here I am now, bruised, repentant, and a submissive to her Sir (as he'll now be referred to.  Last time it changes, I promise).  It's been a very long week but a productive one, and I am now off to enjoy my weekend laying in the sun and daydreaming about some very naughty things.  Actually I've already started.  Driving is going to be difficult.  Damn.

Dazed and Confused

I am normally a very sane and rational human being, but there have been times particularly in the last four months when I thought I was about to go crazy.  Actually crazy.  Last night was one of those times.

Remember that post a couple of weeks ago where I said I wanted to eat healthier and I was going to allow the Trucker to punish me for indulgences that he didn't allow?  Well that started last week and I was doing perfectly fine until the 6 year old in me kicked in and I felt the need to test things.  Not just what the reaction/punishment would be from him, but also that I was going to commit to this and actually tell him when I slipped up despite the consequences.  It was bound to happen at some point, but damn this inner rebellious child!

I had ice cream, and it was good.  It was not worth the result.  First he told me that I was forbidden from any self fun until Thursday, followed with the promise that come Thursday he'd be bringing along his metal studded belt and he wasn't going to hold back.  I'm freaking terrified of that thing.  Perversely curious, but in the way that you wonder what a candle flame would feel like.  You touch it knowing that as soon as the pain hits you'll regret it, and this is something I'm really going to regret.
  

The belt isn't the worst part though.  He told me that if I wanted him to go easier on me on Thursday I could go over there and act the part of the toy for a little while.  No talking, no acknowledgement, just please him and go.  I went.  It was pretty much as he said, I did what he wanted and the only acknowledgements he gave me were degrading.  It was actually pretty hot.  The punishment came at the end.  Normally after a harder play, or when things have been said or done that are degrading or demeaning, there's aftercare and I get the time and attention that I need to put my head back to normal.  This time he just told me to get out.  I knew it was coming and yet it still broke some part inside of me.  Seeing how upset I was he took a moment to remind me that it was punishment and not supposed to feel good, and I know he's right, but it felt horrible.  I cried the entire way home and on and off for the remainder of the night, and today I'm still feeling off.  Not sad necessarily, but not happy.

Here's the thing.  In the last four months I have felt more new and conflicting emotions than I have in most of my walled up 20 something years of life.  Seriously, consider the fact that I'm having my first experience with a proper relationship.  Do you remember the first time you developed feelings for someone, and how kind of crazy it made you?  Suddenly little things become big, emotions go to further extremes, uncertainty and insecurity are ready to jump on any little thing because you never really know what the other person feels about you.  I'm sure after awhile one learns how to deal with all of this and control it, but I'm still at the stage where I'm lucky if I can even realize what it is that I'm feeling.  Do you remember what that's like?

Take that and plop poly onto it.  You take all of that emotion and crazy and put it into a situation where your partner has other people that he cares about as much and more than you.  Where your needs and desires don't always fit in and you have to have complete trust that you won't just be replaced or discarded when something shinier and newer comes along.  Imagine this combination, this situation of a first relationship while sharing in poly.  Do you have a sense of how unbalancing it is?

Good.  Now lets throw a dom/sub relationship onto that.  I assume that if you're reading this you're already somewhat familiar with kink, and if you're not there's no way for me to express how much implicit trust and faith one has to have in the person they're with.  I'm exploring a part of me that I don't fully understand, trust or like.  I'm experiencing new physical and emotional sensations on a weekly basis that screw with the mind and take a lot of reflection and attention to sort out.  With the Trucker I am the most emotionally and physically vulnerable than I've ever been with anyone, ever.  

Is it so strange then that I sometimes feel like I'm losing some of my sanity?  I'm in a new relationship and yet I have to have a level of trust with kink that most people develop over years.  I don't know if he's still going to be interested in me in 3 months yet I have to have a poly level of confidence in our relationship.  To explore the sub in me I have to be more open and honest with my emotions and thoughts than I've ever been, but as a girlfriend I can't let myself go all in too soon. 

And so there are days like yesterday when I can't feel something in just one element.  In my emotional  head it wasn't just my dom who used me and kicked me out, it was my boyfriend.  Rationally, I know that he still cares about me and that this was done because of something we agreed on and not out of any malice or dislike.  It's very hard to find the rational though with all the rest of it crashing around in ones head.  With no aftercare my mind hasn't shifted the dynamic back in the same way.  He indicated that part of my punishment meant that he would stay aloof until thursday but my insecurities can't handle that.  There is a part of me that is a desperate, pathetic sub who just wants her dom to tell her that she's good and that he's not angry.  That terrifies me.  I am by nature a rational, calm and unemotional person and yet here is this person to whom I am suddenly vulnerable in every way and who can send my emotions off the scales with a few words or actions.  The opportunities to get hurt are endless.  

And so I wait.  Right now I'm enduring the emotional punishment, and tomorrow will come the physical.  I'd be lying if I said I'm not worried.  I know he won't damage me but I know that he's going to hurt me and I don't know if I'm going to be able to take it.  The waiting is terrible.  I know that this is probably the worst it will be, that he's being strong on my first offense so that I'm not tempted to test him again, but it doesn't make it easier.  What's worse is that despite the fear and pain and tears, the knowledge that he has this much control turns me on.  I'm the most confused person on earth right now, and I don't see it getting any easier.

Fucking ice cream.

Three Isn't Always A Crowd

Ok, so I did it.

I could say that I only did it because I was drunk (which I was) or because I wanted to please the Trucker (which I did) but the fact is I tend to be an 'all or nothing' girl and my curiosity got the better of me.  

The Trucker has a fwb that he sees on a semi-regular basis.  She's been involved in the kink scene for a long time and although she's a switch she's always submissive with him.  She's also bi, and the Trucker has been wanting the two of us to meet for awhile.  This is partly because he thought we'd get on and it would be good for me to meet a more experienced sub, and partly because he really wanted to have a threesome with two subs.  I was curious about her so I agreed to a night out, though the threesome thing was totally dependent on my comfort level.

I felt like I was going on a date.  I was nervous about meeting someone who he'd known for awhile and regarded so highly and I was worried about being the stick in the mud if I decided I couldn't go for it afterwards.  Even worse though was the thought that SHE might decide not to do it because she didn't like me or find me attractive enough.  Seriously, it felt like a first date with a really big 'first' hanging in the balance.  And so I did the only thing I could do.  I drank rum and tequila.

We spent a good few hours at the pub and then ended up back at her house.  You know that first time you're about to fool around with someone but you're both too shy to make a move?  You sit on the couch watching a movie or something and the tension just builds up, you know that it's going to happen but you're both waiting for the other person to take the dive?  That's exactly what this felt like.  And the Trucker is probably the least subtle person I know when it comes to this stuff, so when he did decide to make a move it was literally "Well, I would really like to have sex with both of you.  Thoughts?"  Not exactly smooth, but it worked.  I went for it.

And when I say went for it, I mean I got super shy again and hid for the first few minutes.  I went to walk into the bedroom and saw them making out and realized that I had no idea how to go about this.  Where do I sit or stand or lay?  Was I supposed to fool around with her as well?  She was into girls but hadn't made any indications that she wanted that with me so did I go there or not?  To be fair I wouldn't have had the first clue what to do regardless.  When they were making out did I just chill on the side and wait my turn?  So many questions!  I realize you're supposed to just go with the flow, but I prefer having some idea of the boundaries and guidelines.  A rule book would be extremely appreciated, or some kind of huddle beforehand.  Just jumping in is terrifying.  

Luckily, the Trucker knows this about me and he just took charge.  After that, it was pretty cool.  There were still moments that I didn't know what to do, where hands should go or what was wanted, but I got through them.  One of the hardest things was the knowledge that someone else could see me and my reactions.  I get incredibly shy when being watched, even by the Trucker.  There was a point when we were both on our hands and knees with the Trucker doing mean and nice things behind us.  Her face was so close to mine that I had to turn my head the other way and hide it with my hands so she couldn't see my reactions.  

I have issues, I know.

In the end, it was both what I thought it would be, and completely different.  Technically I had a threesome but it was almost like being one on one, just with someone else working on the opposite end as you.  There was no actual sex involved, so I'm sure that will throw in a whole new dynamic, but it was kind of nice to start with third base.  Baby steps and all that.  I've told him I'd be up for doing it again, and so there will probably be a Part 2 of this little story at some point.  I might even go into more details with my first lesbian experience if it happens, if you're lucky.  

(You'll be lucky)

Learning To Share Your Toys (Also Known As 'Poly')

The first time I heard about polyamory I was in a sushi restaurant picking little orange fish eggs off the edge of my California roll.  I hate those things, they’re an unnatural colour and I imagine they pop or crunch or something when you eat them.  Ugh.  I was on first date with a cute guy and probably not paying him as much attention as one should on a first date.  He was happily chatting away about his views on the universe and relationships, and then suddenly he’s throwing this word out there that I’d never heard of before.  I should say that we met at a kink event, so at first I thought poly was some kind of fetish and I snapped out of my egg obsession long enough to clarify.  Turns out this guy that I liked was into dating several people at once.  My very first gut reaction was “God dammit” mixed with a bit of “why did I have to meet a weird one”.  So, you know, not positive.   

That was almost a year ago and I’m still doing the poly thing.  I wouldn’t define myself as polyamorous since I take that to mean monogamy is never an option, but at the moment I’m interested in polyamorous relationships.  I like the idea that love is something that doesn't have to be confined to one person.  Everyone knows the security, trust and happiness that comes from being in a healthy relationship so why wouldn’t you want to have that feeling twice over if possible, or three times?  There are more people to have your back, more people to share experiences with, and you can get everything you need spread out over a few partners instead of trying to make one person be your perfect match.  Add to that the level of communication and trust required to keep these relationships healthy, and it’s an attractive package. 

With every up there is a down however and poly definitely has its share of downs.  Jealousy is impossible to avoid.  Sharing people that you care about is difficult and insecurity can poison the mind.  Imagine having a horrible day and all you want to do is curl up with your partner but you can’t because they’re on a date with someone else, deriving pleasure and happiness with another person while you’re feeling miserable and alone.  (Welcome to how I spent last night).  There are time conflicts, partner conflicts, new and exciting dates who aren't you.  There are so many opportunities to get hurt, for little white lies to sneak in and turn into bigger lies, for resentment to form and fester against the other people that your partner cares about.  The very nature of poly means that security is never guaranteed and after a million wonderful affairs you could end up alone.  And to create these wonderful, healthy relationships you have to put the time and effort into each one.  Scheduling yourself so that everyone is happy and wanted can leave you no time for yourself, which is destructive.

And yet, here I am.  

I've come to learn that like anything else, it's all in the mind.  I'm going to feel jealous here and there, but it's how I deal with that jealousy that will dictate my relationship.  You recognize it for what it is, you try to figure out why you're feeling it, you allow it to be there for awhile and then you move on.  Nine times out of ten it's all rooted in your own insecurity to begin with, and if I can deal with and strengthen my insecurities every time something comes up, just imagine how much my future relationships will benefit from that.  I'll be little miss confident!  And lets face it, you can get replaced or hurt in monogamy just as easily.  When it comes down to it, people will be with you if they want to be and if they don't nothing in the world can keep them there.  

Oh, and I forgot one big plus.  Poly is an excellent gateway into threesomes.  Lets say I'm going to drinks next week with the Trucker and his casual playmate who also happens to be submissive and kinky.  Let's just pretend that we'll all be getting a bit tipsy.  Who knows.

(Actually, I kind of know.  Remember the fiasco with the double blowjob?  Imagine that level of awkwardness but without clothes and someone getting full on fucked beside me...  I don't imagine it would go very well if I went for it.  Which I might.  Or not.  ...I'll let you know.)

Is the Slope Slippery, Or Is That Just Me?

I feel like things might start to change. 

I decided I need to start eating better.  I have a serious lack of vegetables in my life and tend to forget to make food from scratch.  So I made a resolution that I'd be healthier and stop eating all that awesome junk food that somehow falls into my cupboards.

It's always easier when doing something like this to have incentive and someone to be accountable to.  The Trucker offered to help and so I told him that he could punish me for every unnecessary indulgence (clarifying that some indulgences are completely necessary.)  I was only 80% serious and he jumped on the idea.  

We discussed it via text last night and today, and then again tonight in person.  In a week, we're going to try a month of him having control over what I eat.  Not everything, but I have to be totally honest about when I cheat.  Exceptions can be made for certain occasions, but I have to ask permission first and he can deny me.  He gets final say.

Part of me is kind of excited about this.  I will never be a 24/7 girl, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about giving up control in more than a sexual sense.  And I like how into it he is.  Making him happy is something I like to do, so even better if it involves something we're both curious about exploring.

Of course on the other hand I'm worried about the slippery slope.  What if we both like it?  What if giving up control in a non-sexual way is something I enjoy?  What happens if we add on another thing, and another?  Three months ago I couldn't imagine that we'd be at this point.  Imagine where we could end up three months from now. 

I'll let you know how it goes.  For the moment I need to go collapse into bed and try and sooth my poor throat.  Tonight I got hit by a truck.

It's Just, You Know, Casual

Casual sex.  I've had a bit of it.  I've had fuck buddies, casual encounters, friends with benefits and relationships.  Yes, I realize that comes across rather... slutty.  I like to think of it as 'curious'.  Through all of these I never had any question about which were casual sex and which were relationships.  It didn't require any thought or contemplation, I just knew.  The other day I had a conversation with someone about one of my current 'casual' relationships, and what made it casual as opposed to something else.  It was an interesting question and since then I've spent a lot of time thinking about it.  What makes a casual sexual relationship casual?  What does one define as intimacy?  Can you have intimacy in something casual or does that blur the lines?

The conversation began when discussing someone who I met about nine months ago, lets call him Mr E.  I was only just beginning to get involved with kink related websites and communities and I was pretty lucky to get a message from him so early on.  We met at a bar, hit it off, made out in the parking lot, and the next night I was bent over his dresser making noises that probably got half his building off.  For the first few months we saw each other every week or so, both excited at the prospect of having met someone that we could be open with about our preferences.  We got to know each other, talked about our lives and the stress we were under, had sex and fell asleep.  In the mornings I would drink some juice, chit chat for a minute, and then I was gone until the next time. We now see each other about once every six weeks, the only communication in that time being the five minutes of texting or so that we use to set up the next booty call.

To me, this is clear cut casual sex.  We don't have contact outside of booty calls, we don't meet anywhere other than each others apartments.  We discuss each others friends and families, but we will never meet them.  We sleep in the same bed most of the time, but there is never an expectation or longing for it.  We are not a part of one another's lives outside of a very specific situation created for a very specific reason.  

My friend saw it differently.  To him, sharing a bed with someone is an intimate act.  Talking about your life, your goals and fears and stress and trials is something you do with someone you care about.  To him, what Mr E and I have has gone beyond casual sex, if it was ever that to begin with.  I find the entire thing intriguing.  If it's not casual, what is it?  At what point does intimate moments become intimacy, and how does that effect a relationship?

Now there are some things that are very clearly defined as intimate, such as laying in your lovers arms and staring into their eyes.  Telling someone something deep and dark about yourself.  I once had a first play date with someone who wanted to bathe me afterwards, which in my mind was way too intimate.  If you were to do any of these things with a partner, I think everyone could agree that something else was going on.    Where does sleeping in a bed fall though?  I crash with friends all the time.  Heck, I crash with people I barely know (in a non-sexual way).  Those aren't intimate moments.  Sleeping in a bed with the Trucker?  Very intimate for many reasons.  What about conversation.  When does it go from chit chat to genuine interest to intimacy?  I've certainly had intimate conversations both with lovers and with friends, but I've had ten times the frivolous ones.  What if they're friends and lovers?  I have a 'friend' who I've never met in person.  We met in a chat room twelve years ago, and we still text to this day.  We talk on the phone, but it's mostly phone sex.  We keep each other aware of the significant events in each others lives.  And yet we have nothing to do with one another.  Even I don't know what to call us.  Friends with technological benefits?

The other question is whether or not having an intimate moment immediately cancels out the casual label.  If you have a long distance lover who you see every 3 months for a night, and you fall asleep spooning, does that shift something?  What about if you've been dating someone every day for a month but they never sleep over, they see other people and you've never met their friends.  Is that considered more or less casual than the long distance couple?  

I'm not going to pretend that I can answer any of these questions.  I know that when it boils down to it, it's dependent on the individual people as well as the individual relationships.  I've experienced the kink community where friends can play and fuck and treat it as casually as a trip to the movies.  I've also experienced people in poly who treat every strong friendship as a form of relationship.  I suppose I just like the idea of the question.  It makes me think about things I haven't thought of before.  It makes me take a second look at the bonds I have with the people in my life and the fact that I may overestimate some and undervalue others.  

You must have an opinion.  Thoughts?

Side note : I hope you will all excuse what happens when I write these posts late at night.  I realize that the line between organized thought and organized rambling can be very thin as the brain gets tired.  Consider it a glimpse into my very confused and easily distracted mind.  I know.  You're welcome.

Take My Breath Away

I like getting choked.  

I mean really choked.

When the only outlet I had for my sexual frustrations was me, myself and I, I would do the old 'belt around the neck and tied off to the bed' trick.  I could pull my body down until the belt was taut and I had slight restriction on my breathing and I'd stay like that until I was in blissful orgasm land.  That was enough for me.  

I remember the first time I made out with the guy who was my (shortly thereafter) 'first', he put his hand firmly on my throat while he kissed me.  No breathing restriction, no overt pressure, just a firm hand.  I nearly came just from that.  I don't need to tell you about how the neck ties into dominance vs submission.  It's a primal feeling, the neck is a vulnerable spot.  Allowing even the hand of someone else to take hold of that area is immediate submission, trust, and thrill.  

The first time CP choked me, it was more than just a firm grip.  (Sidenote: I told CP that after sex with him I sometimes feel like I've been hit by a truck.  I think he liked that, and so it is that he will from this point on be referred to as the Trucker)  He squeezed just a bit more than I'd experienced before and I panicked and tapped out almost immediately.  It's the first rule of dating; if someone is going to knock you unconscious they should at least buy you dinner first.  

That was three months ago.  Tonight there were several times when I was right on the verge of passing out and I freaking loved it.  I don't know if it's the knowledge that I'm putting my life into someone else's hands, the moment of pushing it just that little bit further, or the blissful emptiness that I feel for a little while afterwards (with a side of confusion).  If it were all the time it would just be that other thing that happens, but it's that wonderful sense that every now and then, he's going to push it just that little bit.

Now please understand that we are incredibly careful about this.  The Trucker doesn't just squeeze and hope for the best.  We have safe words and safe signals.  When his hands are on my throat all of his attention is focused there too and he's incredibly in tune with my body language and mannerisms.  There are times when he stops before I want him to because he can tell that my body is done before I can, and unconsciousness is not a goal or a desire.  We can only do it to this point because of the level of trust that we've developed.  

So there it is, my confession.  I am a choking slut.  Hands on my neck (front or back) is a sign to me that I am no longer in control of the situation, that there is someone bigger and stronger who can essentially do what he wants with me.  It turns me on, it puts me into a deeper state of submission, and it's fucking hot.  

Thank you universe for large men with large hands.  

Some Sex With My Dessert Please

I was at an event recently where among the multitude of goodies there was a tray of the most amazing chocolaty, gooey, calorie loaded bars that you can imagine.  They were rich and taunting and no one could resist.  Everyone had one, and raved.  Some people went back for seconds, and it was maybe a little naughty but understandable considering the high yummy factor.  No one, however, went for a third.  It's not that we didn't want to.  For a long time conversations were held in a huddle around the tray just so people could look at them and smell them, and experience them without the consumption.  Eventually a friend of mine made a joke about taking them home and eating all of them later that night.  We all smiled and made comments about 'only if' and 'I wish' and continued to stare longingly.  The same friend leaned over a second or two later and whispered to me that she hadn't been kidding, when she was alone those bars were goners.  It was at exactly this moment that I realized that this decadent tray of dessert was in fact, my sex life.

Technically I suppose there isn't much chocolate involved in what I do in bed (although it's not such a bad idea) but in those moments that tray represented everything I feel about kink and submission.  Everyone has sex and it's publicly acceptable to acknowledge both that people have it and that they enjoy it.  Everyone has one little piece.  Some people go a little further and tell giggling stories about the time their boyfriend brought out a pair of handcuffs, or how they tried a vibrator or anal and how exciting it was.  Not everyone goes in for this second piece and it's not something that would be acceptable every day, but on certain occasions it's understood, appreciated and probably envied by those who stopped at one.  And then you have the people who want (and take) the whole tray.  These sexually open, experimental kinksters know the joy that can be had from going all in, but the social stigma of gorging yourself keeps it hush hush.  Try telling your girlfriends that last night your boyfriend slapped you so hard across the face that you bit your tongue, and that you asked for more.  Try telling your work colleagues that you finally got choked hard enough that you lost consciousness, or that you had a belt used on you like a leash and you loved it.  I'm no different from my friend, publicly showing the same restraint and respectability as everyone else only to sneak off and privately demolish everything later.

I have had a lot of difficulty coming to terms with myself.  I can type about sex all day but if you were talking to me in person you'd be lucky to get the word kink past my lips.  When I'm with partners I'm incapable of explaining what it is that I want and like.  I cannot say the words "I want you to call me a slut" or even "please fuck me".  Yesterday CP had me in my favorite position, on the floor with my chest and face on the ground and my ass in the air while he went for it.  I loved it, I was incredibly turned on and all I could think of was that this is what I need, this was where I belonged.  I know that he would have enjoyed hearing me express it, but all I could manage was a mumbled "this is what I wanted".  Once.  After that it was just a lot of moaning.  Even while experiencing something that is clearly working for both of us, I'm incapable of expressing myself for fear of judgement.

My life has been full of strong female role models and that's how I was raised to be.  Everyone who knows me well will tell you that I can be an utter bitch, that I am stubborn and willful and that I will tell people exactly what I think of them.  I love being this person.  I also love being held down by my neck while being told that I'm nothing but a whore.  Can you see how these two might clash?  How the people who know me as one way would have difficulty understanding why it's ok to need and want the other?  I don't imagine that they could, and more importantly, I have trouble understanding it myself.

Sometimes I wonder how other subs do it.  I read blogs and articles or look at pictures of real people who are happily giving up their control and aren't ashamed of it.  They openly and proudly discuss their devotion to their Sirs and Masters and how content they feel when they're being of use.  I think it must be a peaceful thing, to be that comfortable with yourself and your desires.  Part of me thinks my life would become much easier if I could be as at peace with myself, but the other part of me is frightened of that state.  If I do allow myself to find total joy and contentment in being submissive to someone, what's to say that it won't take over a larger part of my life?  That I won't suddenly want something deeper or more rigid or 24/7 and that bitchy, willfull person will gradually disappear?  One of my biggest fears is that I'll wake up one day to realize I'm living in a cage in someones living room.  My actual biggest fear is that I'll be happy there.  

How does someone raised to be a strong, feminist woman come to terms with the fact that she really just longs for dominance?  How do you resign yourself to the fact that you're only ever going to want to push the boundaries, to try something a little bit edgier and a little bit more submissive?  How does one convince themselves that the person treating them as an object still respects them as an equal outside of the bedroom?  How does wanting to be strong mesh with wanting to be weak?

I don't expect that anyone really reads this blog, I can't imagine it's high on the list when people type in 'kink' to google.  If, however, you have found your way to my array of confused thoughts and you have any insight or opinions to give on this particular matter, I would greatly appreciate it.  Leave a comment, give me your advice, tell me your experiences.  I've come a long way so far as coming to terms with myself and understanding that wanting one thing doesn't cancel out another, but there's a lot more to learn.  Fortunately I'm willing to put in the miles.  And the inches.

Especially the inches.