Some Thoughts on D/s…

For a D/s relationship to survive long term, couples need a solid foundation of vanilla (yes, I did write vanilla) love; it will carry them through the hard times all couples experience. For D/s isn’t constant and unchanging, it ebbs and flows in the way of all relationships. Stronger one day, weaker the next.

So many factors play into how intense the D/s dynamic is day to day: physical health, depression, work, family, separation, to name just a few, can take their toll. In other words, life gets in the way. And if we demand our Dom/Domme or sub to always, no matter what, fulfill their agreed-upon roll, it can harm the basic underpinnings of the relationship. Wants and needs of both can fluctuate, and the dynamic has to be adjusted accordingly.

Sometimes, amping up the D/s gets you through; but at other times, taking off the pressure by stepping back is the way to go. Each situation is different, and must be handled using your best judgement. There can even be times when extreme circumstances cause the relationship to have a distinct vanilla flavor, but that’s okay. It will not last. Not if the relationship was first built on unconditional love. (And not just lip service claiming unconditional love.)

Unconditional love accepts who you are, including the person you were before D/s. It says, “I love you, and will accept and stick by you irregardless of D/s.” It says, “If all we have from this point forward is vanilla, I am still here, will always be here.” That tells your partner you are safe with them, that you never have to pretend to be something you are not; love and commitment should not be contingent on playing a certain role.

When each person is given the freedom to just be who they are (or need to be) at any given time, without fear of consequences, they feel validated, and it enables them to meet in the middle and get the relationship, whether D/s or vanilla, back on track. Sometimes the track veers off in a slightly different direction afterward, but that’s okay. Nothing that grows stays static…it’s always in a constant state of change.

Most couples implement the D/s dynamic because one—only one—desires it. And though the one who is led to it may not need it, they recognize the other’s need, and out of love, agree. And here’s the slippery slope: if the one wanting D/s cannot compromise, if to them it’s all or nothing (the me-me-me mentality), their love is not unconditional, and the relationship will eventually fall apart. Unconditional love sees what the other needs. Unconditional love is not selfish. And unconditional love compromises.

Compromises—so much of our relationships are built upon them. Give me this, I’ll give you that. I’ll take this, you take that. And we can’t resent our partner if they aren’t playing the game exactly like we want them to. After all, are we playing exactly like they would like us to? Think about it…look at it from their side. And then meet in the middle.

What Happens In Dallas…

Missy, Sissy, Lizzie, Millie, Susie, Betty, and Debbie, known back in high school as the “Seven Blonde Babes”, still did everything together. Though their high school days were far behind them—most had children and all but Lizzie were married—they were still best friends, and no matter how hectic their lives, still got together the last Friday of the month for a girl’s night out.

They met up at Lizzie’s after work, did each other’s makeup and hair, put on their party clothes, then piled into Lizzie’s Suburban. From there it was about a thirty-minute drive to Dallas, where they hit the bars and drank and danced into the wee hours of the morning. Sometimes they did more than drink and dance, sometimes the night’s entertainment contained a man or two. Or more. But they always had to be the right sort of men, the alphas who were into rough sex, spankings and such. All the Seven Blonde Babes were into kink, and none of the six who were married ever got enough from their husbands. And since they always spent the night at Lizzie’s following their night out, no one was expecting them home. They could let go.

It was all just innocent fun, and what happened in Dallas stayed in Dallas.

So, when two guys came on to them, two good-looking macho guys dressed in expensive suits, then invited them to take the party to Mitch’s (the taller of the two) house, the Seven Blonde Babes conferred and all agreed that it sounded like fun. Two guys, seven girls…the possible combinations were endless. And who knew, they might get tied up and face-fucked, or at the very least get a good spanking out of it, especially if they asked nicely and said pretty-please. Continue reading “What Happens In Dallas…”

The Mind-fuck

Mind fuck definition—

1. An experience that causes intense and usually disturbing emotion, such as shock, confusion, or fear.

2. An imaginary act of sexual intercourse.

The above are two simple definitions I found when googling mind-fuck, but neither are quite right in how I’m using it here—though #2 is closest. And there’s a form more extreme used in hardcore BDSM, but I’m not going to touch on that in this post; I’m using the term here when referencing how Alpha can arouse me with only words. He fucks my mind.

Ah, the mind-fuck—every good Dom/Domme knows how to do it.

I can’t speak about the giving of one—maybe Alpha will do that in a future post—how it’s done, and how it feels to penetrate your sub’s head and causes her/him to want to please you, to want you to take their body and do with it as you will. My thoughts don’t go in that direction; they sink into that shadowy, simmering world of Daddy taking control.

I love a mind-fuck. And Alpha is an expert.

For much of our relationship, especially at the beginning, Alpha and I were apart for extended periods of time. We loved each other and didn’t want to bring others into our relationship for sexual release, so we did what we had to, to keep intimacy alive over the miles: we used phones and computers in place of physical touch. Yep, we had phone sex.

Alpha gave me specific instructions as to what to do in the hours leading up to our phone conversation, to get me in a submissive, horny mood. And when the agreed upon time arrived, I got comfortable—having toys nearby, and anything else he’d commanded me to assemble earlier in the day. Then I called. After a settling in period, he asked me what I had on, and I knew it was time to begin.

I closed my eyes, and his sexy voice guided me. He described in detail where and how I was to touch, and told me to imagine it was him doing it. My mind could see it all, and so could his (we both have vivid imaginations). He started slow, then gradually built the intensity. And his voice reflected that intensity, becoming more commanding and urgent. Soon, he has me begging to be allowed to cum, but just as he does when we’re together, he refuses me release for a time. Then when finally, he does…all I can say is: Oh. My. God!

I guess you could say that Alpha mind-fucks me in some fashion about every day, whether in person or hundreds of miles away. He reminds me that he owns my body, that he has full control of it, and what he wants to do/is going to do to it. And his voice—masculine, smooth, but with a bit of a growl—can make me weak and wet and wanting long before he even touches me—or allows me to touch myself.

Men, vanilla or otherwise, who take the time to understand women, know that most need to be emotionally touched to crave physical touch, most especially in a long-term relationship. And being touched emotionally doesn’t always have to do with love (though it makes the experience even more intense). Building the desire for sex can be done in many ways: a look, a touch, using certain words and phrases. And in D/s / BDSM, the added element of control is a powerful aphrodisiac. A Dom/Domme who knows how to utilize control using only their voice and words will have his/her sub aching for their touch. They know the art of a mind-fuck.

I’ve read that D/s is a dance between the Dominant and submissive. And a Dom who learns the steps of the mind-fuck, and leads his/her partner in the dance as old as mankind, will have a happy sub.

And lots of fantastic sex.

Taken in Hand

Ordered to lie
Facedown on bed
Blindfold on eyes
Hands tied, legs spread

Hard smack of hand
On panty-clad ass
Wanton hips rise
Lips gasp

Rough hand jerks panties
Down to quivering knees
Leather softly caresses
Please, Daddy, please…

Slap…squeal of pain
Slap…moan of pleasure
He knows what she craves
He’s taken her measure

Rosy blush that blooms
Dusky bruises that form
Will color her world
And keep her heart warm

His marks on her body
Will be a reminder every day
To mind her Daddy Dom
Or she will pay

But please tell me this—
Is a sound spanking really pay
Since she’s been a good girl
Or instead fundamental play

For kat needs Daddy
To take her in hand
To tame her wild side
And prove he’s a man

Feeling Submissive

Recently, I asked Alpha to implement a ritual that would reinforce my submission to him; and I requested that he create it. Me not having a say in what the ritual is, for me, deepens that submissive feeling: I am doing what my Dom commands. And he composed a lovely mantra for me to recite while kneeling, each night before we go to sleep.

It has been hard for me to turn over control to Alpha. In the beginning, D/s sounded wonderful in theory but proved somewhat troublesome implementing. For awhile, life would go along fine for Daddy and his girl, then I would sink into depression causing my obstinate nature to kick in, my inclination to balk at any sort of authority. I wanted D/s and I didn’t want it. And added to the mix, because of past experiences, I would find myself mistrusting Alpha, though he has never, ever given me any reason to do so.

Alpha has always remained calm through my storms, even the last one which was on par with a hurricane (I wrote about it in Humble Pie, and Alpha responded in Alpha’s response to a humbled kat.) I think his background in psychology helps him understand me, so that when I’m hanging out in the wind twisting and turning and not knowing which direction a gust might blow me, he knows I need him to be my rock, solid and strong and calm. And he provides just that.

Then, when the storm passes, he soothes my fears, reassures me of his unconditional love, and makes me feel protected and safe. And we talk about what happened. Alpha knows that parts of me are broken, and wants to help me fit the pieces back together. He wants me happy, not just part of the time, but all the time. And a good part of being happy is being able to let go of the garbage in your past that has hurt you—and lord do I hang onto the bad stuff as if every rotten piece were a life preserver!

Because I agreed to a D/s relationship with Alpha, I also agreed to bare myself inside and out to him. He is privy to the real me that can be a mess at times, and he loves me in spite of myself. He loves me with a selfless love that I’ve never come close to experiencing before. That doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences when I go too far. Alpha will mete out appropriate punishment as he sees fit, which I agreed to at the start of our implementing D/s in our relationship. And putting control of my body into his hands, for both pleasure and pain, contributes to my feeling of submission to him.

When I feel submissive to Alpha, I also feel loved and safe. I feel both a mental calm, and an urgent physical need for him that ranges from desiring sweet cuddling to being ripped apart and devoured by my big, bad Wolf. Those are some powerful feelings. And you can’t get them in a vanilla relationship; at least I never have.

Giving over control to Alpha has brought me more peace than I’ve had in a very long time. And recently, I’ve been able to do away with a few of my soft and hard limits, and Alpha and I are taking my submission deeper—we’ll do baby steps, he says.

You can’t just claim you’re a submissive, and poof, you are. Just like a Dom has to walk the walk, the sub has to do it also. You can’t feel submissive without being submissive.

It may not work for everyone, but my way of feeling submissive is clearing my mind and actively listening to Alpha when he tells me in his own way that he is my Dom, that I belong to him, and will do as he says. I allow myself to feel submissive, to not let the thoughts creep in that try to tell me I am weak and needy because I want this, that I need to pull up my big girl panties and face the world alone. I let his words wash over me and through me. I don’t think; I don’t fight; I just am, and let him take control and lead us where he may.

This is not to say everything will always be smooth sailing. I’m sure in the future I’ll screw up in some fashion, for after all, I still possess a stubborn streak so ingrained I must have been born with the damn thing. But Alpha will be there to pick me up, dust me off, and set my feet back on the right path. And spank my butt if needed.