Ashamed Of Myself

There are some things I find very hard, if not impossible, to say out loud. The words may echo round my head, my heart may be shouting them but I cannot get my lips to articulate them. This blog exists at least partly for that reason; because some things may not be spoken but may be written.

Perrin has written of his depression, and it has certainly had an impact on our relationship. While I love Perrin very much, it is hard seeing him so withdrawn and unhappy, and that in itself then affects me, drawing us into a vicious circle of misery that seems very hard to break. As part of this the D/s side of our relationship has almost entirely ceased. This seems to be a sensible decision for the moment and yet I am finding it very hard to be a vanilla wife.

I have finally come to a point where I can accept my submission as a part of me and have found it surprisingly easy to talk of with others. Admitting that I am submissive and discussing kink with other people who can understand has been a liberating experience. Expressing it directly however, admitting my needs and desires to my Dom, that I still stumble over.

In my head I can beg to be fucked, to be pinned down and used. I can ask for a spanking, knowing I would offer my body willingly to the pain. I still cannot speak the words.

I am ashamed. Ashamed of my desires, of my needs. Seeing them as dirty, and expecting to be rejected for them. Sure that I will be rejected. Not that my requests might be turned down; there is a difference between a dominant denying a submissive’s requests, deliberately, knowing what they are doing and a rejection of their submission, a turning away in disgust from them. I am afraid too, that my desires might be met, reluctantly, attempting merely to satisfy me, rather than for my Dom’s pleasure and delight.

I am ashamed to be so helplessly submissive. Unable to completely bury these feelings, unable to be purely vanilla, to forget this part of me for now. Ashamed I cannot let it go. Hating and loving my submission simultaneously.

I read other people’s blogs, read of the pleasure of submission. I see the joy in Mat’s face, head back, eyes closed, his throat bared to me. I remember those feelings. They thrill me, delight me, arouse me. They are more than sex. More intimate, more powerful. More.

But I cannot have them merely by wishing. And pretending would be worse than not having them at all. So somehow I have to let it go for now.

Author: Caitlin

Geeky, kinky and poly. Discovering my Domme side. Sometimes NSFW and 18+.

2 thoughts on “Ashamed Of Myself”

  1. Once we allow ourselves to admit, and embrace submission it is difficult to put it back into the box.
    On top of that, normally our submission goes a long way to relieving our stress, like another might go for a jog, we endure delightful pain, but reach the same place.
    Have you and Perrin explored bringing in a “pinch hitter”? My own Dom is far away so we have no choice but to use surrogates. It might even help Perrin with his depression a bit, anyone who is depressed knows that it affects the people they love and that can make them feel guilty as well.

    1. Thank you for your understanding; I had to look up ‘pinch hitter’ though! 🙂
      I have vaguely wondered about such an idea myself, but part of what makes D/s work for me is the emotional connection. If Perrin was able to give a surrogate sufficient guidance to convey that connection then I suspect he would be able to act for himself. If not it would either feel very empty or I would be in danger of developing too strong a connection with the surrogate, neither of which is appealing.
      For now, patience and love are the better course I hope.

      Caitlin xx

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s