I’ll be taking care of everything from now on.
I’ll be taking care of everything from now on.
Her needs, my terms.
It’s not because of what I say or do.
It’s because of what I am.
Several months ago, I felt like I was drowning. I was on a steep learning curve at a new job where I felt completely lost, and I was rebuilding my personal life on several levels. Every little decision felt heavy. But I kept trudging through, hoping one day the struggle would end.
In the midst of this, my Dominant gave me a daily task. It felt nearly impossible some days. I’d get my daughter in bed and think about the task. I’d watch the minutes tick away before bedtime and try to summon up the energy to complete it. Once I completed it, I felt better. Proud. Accomplished. Connected to him. But before doing it, all I could feel was the exhaustion.
One night I asked permission to skip the task. My boss had completely scrapped my work product—a new experience for this perfectionist overachiever who was used to things coming easily. Suddenly, I felt incompetent. Then my daughter, sensing my stress, argued with me all night. It was all I could do to get her in bed before I collapsed in tears.
So I asked permission to skip the task. And he said no. I was furious. I told him if he loved me, he wouldn’t make me follow through. He calmly told me that he wanted me to follow through because he loved me. I called him selfish and insensitive. I refused to do it. He reminded me that I always have a choice: complete the task or accept punishment.
I sat for about 20 minutes, just staring at the wall. I felt empty. I reached inside and felt nothing. No energy, no worth. Just nothing. And then I got up, and I completed my task. I didn’t do it to avoid the belt; when I initially refused, I knew I’d take the belt for it. But the idea of intentionally disobeying him…that was too much to bear. I couldn’t. So I took my nothingness and made it something. I made it into service.
A few days later when the clouds had cleared, we talked about it. “You know I couldn’t let you off the hook,” he said. “You know it would have been the worst thing for you. It would have left you feeling alone and untethered.” He was right. There were other times when he did give me permission to skip the task, but that night it would have made everything worse. I was so grateful that he held the leash tight in that moment. He reached out to me in my darkness, and he didn’t let go. And neither did I.
I thanked him for the opportunity to submit. Then he said four words that made my heart swell. “I knew you would.”
It’s easy to submit when you have all the time and energy to devote yourself to it. But it’s much harder to submit when everything is going wrong. Dominance and submission aren’t just for when it’s easy. Many people are capable of putting on the role for short bursts. Months, even. But the moment it gets hard, they toss it aside. And they wait for a more convenient time to pick it back up again. It’s not about whether you can play the role; it’s about whether you are the role. Anything less is just D/s dress-up.
A deep D/s connection is about where you find your sanctuary. It’s about what feeds your soul. It’s about what replenishes you when you are stressed or sad or lost or returning home from battle to lick your wounds. If you can only give or take control when it’s easy, then it’s never going to be real or sustainable. You can’t build a relationship on that. But if you ache for D/s all the way down to your bones, then you show up no matter what. You follow through when it’s hard. You meet your partner’s needs, and in doing so, you meet your own. The dynamic can be so powerful that way. Especially when it’s hard.
Thanks so much! Yes, it’s been quite the journey, and very soon we’re on to the next phase :)
You’re so pretty when you suffer <3
Why? Because you’re mine to do with as I please.
Quotes by my mom about us after spending a few days here with us:
“You’re weird.” (True.) “You’re hugging and touching and kissing each other and holding hands all the time. You spend every minute clinging to each other. That’s not normal.” (lol. Btw technically it’s me clinging to Him all the time.)
“When you cut your finger you came running to him crying…” (I wasn’t crying, I was whining and complaining ‘I cut my finger’!) “… and he came running to you, interrupting his work, with a band-aid and spend whole five minutes comforting you. That’s not normal.” (Why not?)
“Does he give you money to spend for yourself? You should get a job! Do you want to rely for everything you want on your man? That’s not normal!” (No He does not because He wants to control everything. And yes I do want to rely on Him for everything I want.)
[At least ten other things that ended with “That’s not normal!” (‘Normal’ is not a criterion that matters to us. But very much so to her as you can see. But it’s kind of cute.)]
“Don’t get me wrong, I really like him!” (Yay.)
“Looks like you hit the jackpot with him…” (Correct observation/conclusion) “…make sure that he doesn’t run away from you…” (Meaning what exactly?/Thanks mom 🙄) “… but wait, does he even know how that works, running away? He probably doesn’t even know what that is.” (He does, He did end relationships that didn’t work out in the past, but anyway this shows that she begins to kind of understand (parts of) His character, endlessly loyal <3 and socially abnormal, haha.)
“You two are like children.” (Sometimes true. I much more than Him though.)
“You’re the perfect match.” (YES!)
“I’m happy for you. Both of you.”
Oh well, my mom ❤️
Gaslighting is just bullying, and bad for any relationship unless you’re both in it for that particular kink.
Casual humiliation comes down to your own attitude.
Let me put it this way. Does your car have any say whatsoever in:
When you own an object, its “opinion” is a preposterous idea.
The next level is a pet. A pet is your property, but is also a living being, and that gives you special responsibilities to keep it alive and well. However, most of that pet’s opinions once again don’t matter.
When you own a slave, their status will be somewhere along the line between object and pet (or perhaps even more towards “daughter” for ddlg). You choose what control you will take over her, and that level of ownership gives you natural rights over her.
Where I’m going with all of this:
When you own something, you just naturally make casual use of it. When you own a slave, how you use her is what trains her to your rhythm. Casual humiliation is simply taking what’s already yours whenever you feel like it, sometimes because it’s what you want at the moment, other times just to prove a point (to her or to yourself or both). It’s the regular day-to-day humiliation of accepting whatever you do to her that keeps her in her place, both physically and psychologically, always aware and accepting of her station. Whether that’s leading her around the house by a leash and tethering her wherever, deciding her clothes, swatting her ass, grabbing her, manhandling her, grounding her, making her adhere to your protocols, locking her up… whatever. It doesn’t matter WHAT you do, so long as you’re doing it BECAUSE IT IS YOUR RIGHT TO DO IT.
Casual humiliation comes naturally with real ownership, because it is the normal, natural state of things in such a relationship.
What she needs.
9.930683765E+34 x 7.425512824E+34 x 8.144305559E+34 Planck lengths due to the local gravity.
That’s just a rough estimate, of course. I’d need to take more careful measurements once I’m there.
Trivially. Even something super primitive made out of a bunch of 2x4s would be strong enough.
(Please read my introduction post to #llwmd for a description of this category. Thank you.)
A few weeks ago we were sitting on the deck after dinner and had the following conversation:
I: How are you doing?
He: Terrible. I have a terrible headache. The whole day already, it started right after breakfast.
I: And you didn’t tell me? You have to tell me these kinds of things!
He, confused: Why?
I, confused: Why?! Because…because… I love you! I need to know! (I couldn’t think of an explanation why I need to know when the person I love is in pain at this moment, it’s so much a matter of course to me, I never thought about it rationally before, hence this stupid answer)
He, more confused: But you couldn’t change it anyway. There’s no point in talking about it.
I, finally able to come up with a better answer: The point is that I love you. That implies that I need to care for you, and not making you worse. For example I asked you to help me with dinner because I wanted to do it with you together. If I would have known you are in pain I wouldn’t have asked but let you rest on the couch. I probably worsened your situation, at least I prevented you from getting better. That is terrible. You can’t allow me to do something that hurts you. You have to allow me to care for you. This is important to me. It makes me sad to hurt you, and happy to serve you. Also it’s not necessarily true that I couldn’t change it. Stress and activity make physical pain and discomfort worse, so I could make sure you are as relaxed and un-stressed as possible. And having someone comforting you when your’re in pain helps in general, psychologically I mean. Don’t you feel better when you have someone being there for you, when you’re suffering?
He, confused: I… guess.
I: Meaning, no?
He: Well, a headache is a headache. That doesn’t change…
I: Hm… okay, I see. Then let’s just say it feels always good, headache or not, to have someone caring for you, right?
I: Then let me care for you. Then I’m happy because I can care for you and you are happy because I care for you.
I: Okay. Now tell me, how can I help you to feel better right now?
I hoped the result of this conversation would be that from now on He would tell me when He feels bad. But this didn’t happen. He understood now that and why it is important to me to know how He feels but when He was in an actual situation where He was feeling bad or stressed, He just didn’t think of saying something. The thought to speak it out loud simply doesn’t occur to Him. I thought these situations would trigger a memory of this conversation but that didn’t happen. It wasn’t in vain to talk about this anyway because it made me aware of the problem, and I came up with a solution: Since then I actively ask Him at least twice a day, most times more often, how He is doing, how He is feeling. And when i can see that He is stressed or something is wrong I’m the one to start talking about it and say “You look stressed. Are you stressed? What makes you feel stressed? What can I do to help or support you?” And then He tells me what stresses Him and if there’s something I can do to make Him feel better. And it does help Him that I do that. Of course not because I could do something about the actual stress or pain, because these things are caused by some real world stimulus and the effect never disappears before the cause is eliminated *rollseyes* but because by care and compassion I show Him how much He means to me, that I’m genuinely interested in Him and my need to have Him happy. And that makes Him happy. And me too. Problem solved.
I can imagine that there lies a huge potential for trouble here for neurotypicals. To see it all written down like this, problem - analysis - solution, it’s easy to understand what’s going on and it seems obvious how to solve this. But how many couples have problems comparable to this one, not because they’re autistic but for other reasons, and don’t even know it? They don’t talk to each other and get the feeling the other is shutting them out of their world. Which makes them drift apart. Which makes them talk even less. - Talk to each other! Without judgement! Everybody is different and needs an individual way to cope with their quirks. With some it’s easier and with some it’s harder but for all it is possible when you are willing to understand each other, to learn what’s behind certain behaviors. Don’t just assume someone is doing x because… but ask ‘Why?”! Ask your partner questions and tell your partner about yourself. Communicate. This is the short version of the answer to every relationship problem that ever existed, exists and will ever exist.
I won’t buy a cage. They’re too damn expensive. Better to just source some scrap bar and build one to my taste.
Depends on how much it costs to ship. I might be better off just building one.
A good man is gentle but firm in all he does.
Have you learned your lesson?
Nope. Never had the time.
Nope. That’s Rain Degrey.
Just the cage. I’m not building anything while in Canada.
Aww! Are you uncomfortable? I could distract you from your troubles…
Every part of you is for my use.
A pretty shower for my pretty girl.
I hit a snag with my distribution channel. It’ll be up again, but might take awhile.
This’ll stop her fidgeting.
The original is here: https://www.deviantart.com/a-sennov/art/Experiment-5-759604138
I just gave it a different feel.
I take good care of my things.
“Dumb cunt” doesn’t necessarily mean “stupid”. It’s just a blunt way of reinforcing her position. Her status is lower than mine, which makes her opinions less important than mine, and so she bears no responsibility in the decisions that are made. In fact, I won’t allow her to make important decisions.
However, I must stress that this has no bearing on her intelligence. I may take her thoughts into consideration. I may even take her advice. But the final decision is my right, and my responsibility alone.
The other part of that post refers to her tendency to overthink and get anxious. She’ll get fidgety or run her mouth and not be able to stop even though she sees the sickening train wreck starting in front of her. If she’s left hanging, she’ll start floating, unable to feel the boundaries, start saying MORE stupid things as she tries to backtrack, etc.
I won’t judge her for this; I’ll tell her to shut the fuck up. I’ll overrule her, stop her dead in her tracks, show her the boundaries, maybe punish her if she said something bad, remove responsibility, and her anxious mind will quiet down.
I’m a mix of my father and mother, with other things thrown in. I’m the only dominant personality in my family, which came from my grandfather, along with his love of brawling.
Yes, my father is available, and I’d be happy for him when he finds someone. He is submissive (in a non kinky way), and so would only be happy with a “take charge” kind of woman.
The metal bar.
10% of the stuff I post is stuff I made (photos I took, videos I screengrabbed, animated gifs I made, pics I colorified, witty things I wrote). The rest is a mix of reblogs and shit I downloaded from disparate places and posted for you to enjoy, same as most people do on Tumblr. If you have a problem with that, you have a problem with all of us.
No such thing!
Easy does it!
Why aren’t there any pics of me fucking her?
Why aren’t there any pics of me using the paddle?
Why aren’t there any pics of XYZ?
I share what I choose to share, when I choose to share it.
I don’t hide anything from my immediate family. One of my father’s friends is into BDSM, so I told him about this blog. I think my father was in the room at the time. I’m already known as an oddball by pretty much everyone due to the autism, so nothing I do is that shocking to people who know me :P
Check your facts before you accuse.
My good girl <3
Thanks so much! The tumblr community has been a wonderful and loving bunch :)
Thank you :)
Hey, I kept up my end of the bargain! They’ve got nothing on me!
If they try to take my council seat away over this shit, there’ll be hell to pay.
Thanks so much :)
We do our best to practice what we preach, and have a reasonably good track record for the most part :P
Thank you :)
Things will be a bit erratic on the blog since I’m entertaining guests and also starting with a new job.
Thanks! As for our dynamic, it will continue as before, evolving over time.