A Submissive Side (Or Not)

Who am I? Sometimes it’s simple. Sometimes I’m just a Domme, but sometimes it’s more complicated than that.

I’m confused, lonely, frightened, endlessly searching. I want confidence, reassurance, growth.
Sometimes I’m submissive, wanting to be used, abused and loved. But for me submission turns out to be a road that leads to pain and not the good kind either.

To give myself to a Dom, what would I be asking for? Let me tell you.
I want to be encouraged, I want their hand holding mine. I want them pushing the back of my bike as I cycle along until I’m flying and I turn and discover they let go some time ago and have just been running along side me for reassurance.
But when I wobble, then I need them to be holding fast, to stop me from falling.

No human being can possibly be expected to be that person, to take me to the darkest places in my soul and bring me back safely, to give me strength and never let me down. So, submission, for me is pain, disappointment, damage to a heart already scarred by hurt.

I cannot live those fantasies without harm, so I will not live them.
Yet they resurface now and again, to be enjoyed alone inside my mind and also, it seems, here with you.

A Familiar View

Writing something here is a yearly tradition but there is perhaps little to say. This year has brought little that is new, few startling revelations for me or for you readers. Yet I have relationships that flourish, I am loved and love in return. I even find I have a few people I can talk to, in the flesh so to speak, about my life, my loves and my kinks.

So perhaps all I can say here for now is that it is, what I wish for you all, a very happy new year.

The View Five Years On

Five years ago I started this blog. Five years, of ups and downs and surprises, five years of love, laughter and kink. Five years of writing, photographing, playing and discovering.

Maybe sometimes this year I’ve got a little busy and not written here as much as I would have liked. I know I haven’t found time to read as many other blogs as I would have liked. If you want me to come and read yours then add a comment here and I promise I’ll come and look at it.

Play has been patchy too but what we have had has been fun. There have been a few great opportunities for getting naked outside too.

This coming year, well it may well be the year my Boy gets to suck more cock, maybe even get fucked too (offers always welcome from polite but sexy gentlemen).

I have no idea what it will bring me – but then that was always the point. The view is still changing.

 

I Need To Tie My Boy

RopeMat recently showed me a blog post. Beautifully written, it described how wonderful it felt to tie someone up. Oh, how well I know that feeling.
In fact it described how amazing it felt to tie him up. Oh, how very well indeed do I know that feeling.

Yet despite that, despite my love and longing for those moments it’s something I do very rarely and I found myself thinking about why that is. The reasons are these:

  • Lack of time. To tie my Boy needs a couple of hours without distractions or disturbances. It’s not something you can easily even stop to answer the door. Those hours are hard to find. It means not doing something else. If I tie him up then we won’t have time to catch up on that latest episode of ‘Scott and Bailey’ and I know he’s been waiting for us to have the time to watch it.
  • Lack of confidence. I’m not yet good enough, I don’t captivate him. I’m not the easy confident rigger he desires. Things go wrong and he isn’t comfortable with it. He loses focus, starts commenting and criticising and my confidence dips still further. I become more hesitant and the problem increases.
  • Fear of rejection. I want to suggest it but I know he’ll probably say ‘no’. Now’s not the time,he’s tired, we’re too busy, can we watch ‘Scott and Bailey’ instead? Each of those rejections cuts me, this is something I want, need, so much. It seems less painful to stay quiet and simply imagine the rope twisting through my hands.

But I want and need so much more than that.

So I’m going to do one thing to try to fix this. I’m going to demand some time from my Boy. A specific couple of hours, for me, to do what I need. I’ll blindfold him or gag him if I need to; but I need his body, relatively willing, for me to experiment on.

It may not be exactly what he wants, but it will be what I need. Time to play, with no need to meet anyone’s standards but my own. Time to experiment, to make mistakes but most of all to take pleasure in the rope and in my Boy.

And when he says ‘yes’, I’m going to make sure I keep asking and making that time until I can be the rigger (and Domme) he needs as much as the one I want to be.