Labels aren’t always essential, but they can help.
Good morning Twisties,
I started taking the 30 Days Of Submission challenge last year. Unfortunately, I think because of the loss of my father and events surrounding that, I think I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind to complete it, and so I quit. Not only that, but my blog became about BDSM and nothing else. As I now write about an array of topics, I wanted to start again, and complete it this time!
As a rule of thumb, I’m not someone who likes to follow trends and fashions. However, I think that when it comes to blogging and the BDSM lifestyle, it’s important to show some flexibility and willingness to participate in order to see your blog grow. Not only is it a great way to network with other writers and gain and learn from each other, it’s also a great way to publicise your blog!
I’m going to be doing each of my ‘days’ on a Saturday. As some of you may know, I try to keep things varied in the week and just focus on the kinky bits on Fridays and the weekend. That way, the filthy bits aren’t too overwhelming for those who just aren’t interested.
Alright my lovelies, let’s dive in with day one!
Does your submission – either what you practice or what you strive for – have a label? Do you view your submission as Taken in Hand, domestic discipline, top/bottom, dominant/submissive, master/slave, owner/pet, or some other description or combination? If you do not use a label, why?
Wolfie and I are a mixture of things, we’re a little bit generic Dominant/submissive and a little bit Daddy Dom, add in a splash of primal play and possibly even some Taken In Hand and domestic discipline. To a lot of people I perhaps would appear to have no boundaries, but really, I do have some rules.
For us personally, contracts and labels are something that we have long shunned. We are we, we are us. We like to laugh and we like to have fun. We tried contracts for a while but soon found that we kept scurrying back to a sheet of paper to see if I’d broken a rule. Some things were clouded vioalations and some things seemed like petty transactions that were simply me speaking my mind and that Wolfie felt shouldn’t be punished. In the end, we gave up on the cotract.
Wolfie will swat me if I’m cheeky, he will give me the “Dom stare” and he will hold my jaw if I gob off to him. I can be exceptionally bratty and challenging, so he knows he has to catch me fast if he’s going to reprimand me. I’ve also worked in business negotiations and fought in a court of law (civil, not criminal) so he knows that I know my rights, I know what I’m entitled to and so on. For his worth, Wolfie pushes me back just as hard as I push him. If I express my right to speech and my right to freedom, he will express his right to spend his money as he chooses to and order a taxi, pay for dinner or rent a movie – possibly even all three. We have an almost Mr & Mrs Smith-style tension at the best of times, and we wouldn’t change it.
Sometimes though, just sometimes I get shy. Sometimes I get insecure about talking about sex (particularly my needs, rather than the purely physical transaction). When I was young, I was hushed and spoken over a lot by my brother and so I’m now used to being repressed and forgotten about, I’m not used to having anyone who wants to listen to or hear me. Even my mother thought I was autistic (I’m not), so I’ve spent a lot of time hushing my thoughts and silencing my words, fearful perhaps that what I said might be wrong or stupid in some way. I was also repeatedly refrained from talking about sex, so when it came to sex, I came to believe that talking about sex was bad. Even today, I revert to the little girl in me when it comes to talking about what I need in sex, I don a more immature voice, I blush, I pout, I whine because I don’t want to talk about why I need (I prefer to talk about other peoples’ needs instead) and I hide my face. Wolfie is still trying to turn the ‘tortypoise’ into the ‘talkypoise’ but we aren’t there yet. I looked at the Daddy Dom lifestyle for a while but it never really called to me and I always felt a bit on the outskirts of it all. I had a water bottle and a teddy bear but that was about all, and even that irritated me. I hated my water bottle being called my “juicy” (though I’ve weirdly retained that, old habits die hard) and my bear is now ‘accidentally’ under the bed. It’s not that I don’t love Badocks, I just love my maximum sleeping space much more. I get hot at night, so sandwiched between Wolfie and Badocks (who was held up by a wall) was hell for me.
On the primal play front, primal play was just something that we got into, I think quite naturally. I think it started with me wanting him to bite me, then choke me and it all just went from there. Light bites (called “tastes”) became the new alternative to kisses and ‘licked it so it’s mine’ became the new game we liked to play, usually with only one inevitable conclusion which left us both satisfied but tired!
At the heart of our relationship, it’s important to remember and understand that Wolfie and I started off as colleagues, we started off as best friends and we started off as two people who saw one another through some extremely difficult times, and have continued to do so throughout our relationship. Even in spite of all of the kinky little bits that make up a part of our relationship, Wolfie and I are best friends first, husband and wife second and Dominant and submissive last, regardless of what dark and deviant shenanigans we may get up to along the way.