Can a M/s relationship really exist?

I'm having difficulty thinking it can.

An obedient sub looks like an obedient slave. They both are complying with their Dom or Master's wishes. The only difference that I can see if that one has the right to say 'no' and the other doesn't.

Or do they?

Let's look at a sub first. As I understand it, a sub can maintain hard limits - things that they absolutely will not do. Then they can have soft limits that they allow their Dom to push on and expand, perhaps turning them into normal activities, perhaps turning them into hard limits. They have the right to discuss and give feedback on the relationship as to what is working for them and what isn't. And at the end of the day, they have the right to walk away if they are not getting what they need or are being forced to do things they don't want to do.

Now a slave ... a slave by definition does not have hard limits. However, I wonder how many "no-limit" slaves would commit beastiality or sexual molestation of another human (especially an underage one) at the order of their Master. Wouldn't their own morals and ethics, not to mention the law, stop them from committing what comes down to crimes? So slaves still have hard limits; they just choose Masters who share the same ones so that they do not have to be subjected to the choice and therefore can still proclaim that they have no limits. Most people that I have talked to who live M/s 24/7 talk, discuss, and give feedback on the relationship. After all, it is between two people and a happy slave serves better than an unhappy one, right? Why wouldn't a Master want feedback? And, at the end of the day, a slave also has the right to walk away. No contract that you sign can bind you into slavery because the reality of slavery is against the law.

So what is a M/s relationship then? Is it just an elaborate pretense between two people? Is it that they make themselves believe that the slave has no right to the word "no"? Maybe it's my background in philosophy which has me questioning the logic, but I find it hard to believe that intelligent people could deceive themselves into thinking that they cannot say no. Maybe they choose not to say it but even in the choosing is an amount of power. You cannot give away the power that makes us all human - the power to make choices for ourselves.

My debate within myself as to how to identify seems to finally have stilled. I am a submissive because I do not choose to pretend. I wish to submit to a Dom and a sadist but I will never fool myself into thinking that I do not have a choice. And besides, the choice is what makes it hot.

It's like a conversation I was having recently about the differences between physical bondage and mental bondage. I said that physical bondage is very relaxing to me because I know that I cannot get loose until he lets me go. There is no fight in me and I can relax into the pain in a different way. Being told to get into a position or hold a position - much more difficult. I am participating. I am choosing to obey, to submit to whatever my Dom wants to do. I cannot pretend that it is not a choice because I am there, rather than not. I see the choice of submissive in the same way. I can choose obedience or disobedience or I can choose to leave. But I can never choose to not have a choice.

Being 'greedy'

Today I bought two new books, "The New Bottoming Book" and "The New Topping Book", both by Dossie Easton and Janet Hardy. I was reading through them today as I was working and they both seem like they have a lot of good information for new and old players. One of the more interesting paragraphs that I came across in the Bottoming book was about being greedy. It's timely because I had a conversation today about being a greedy submissive with a man I hope will become at the very least an occasional play partner.

"'Greedy' is often used as a pejorative term, both outside the S/M communities and within them. We would like to propose the reclamation of the word 'greedy'.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting a lot; there's nothing wrong with getting a lot. In fact, the more you get, the more you have to give.

"In this book we want to teach you how to be a greedy bottom. A bottom who has acknowledged his or her needs and wants, and who is getting them met, is usually an open-hearted, generous, supportive bottom - and we're writing this because that's what we want you to be. Greed and generousity are two sides of the same coin: grasp it firmly and spend it well."

To state one's desires or needs within any relationship is important and healthy. The same holds true for a D/s relationship but it seems a bit like topping from the bottom for the submissive to stand there saying "I like this and this and this but am totally turned off by this." However, without that kind of information, a Dominant cannot prepare a good scene except by trial and error, and one can imagine the kinds of errors that could happen that way! "But my last submissive loved getting slapped across the face!" while this one may have deep emotional scarring from an abusive relationship. Communication is key, as always, and it's not greedy to want to be happy and to want whatever it is that gets you there.

kissing

I miss kissing.

Little pecks when saying hello or goodbye.

Long drawn out, make-out session kisses.

Frantic "need to be in you, part of you, one with you" kisses.

Kissing during sex, during dinner, during life.

The thing is, I find kissing to be much more intimate than any other activity, with the possible exception of anal sex but that gets it's own post. I can fuck a guy, suck his cock, be spanked or tied up or clamped or any number of other (wonderful) activities but nothing comes close to touching me the way a simple kiss does.

Maybe it's a remnant from growing up with "Pretty Woman". She won't kiss but she'll do anything else. Maybe it's the fact that kissing seems to get lost a little bit after sex becomes the norm. Kissing is the front door into the house of sexual practise but once you have the key you don't have to wait around outside anymore.

All I know is, when I meet a Dom who loves to kiss me as much as he loves to control me, I'll know that I've met a Dom that I want to hold on to. I've met Doms who feel that kissing is too equal and they give it no part in their dynamic and when I played with them, I agreed with their philosophy. But now that I am on the hunt for a relationship, kissing is something that is taking on more importance.

Muscle spasms

This is a funny story, now. At the time it sucked like nothing else!

There I was, riding my boyfriend at the time, when all of a sudden both quad and both hamstring muscles spasmed. For anyone who has ever had a muscle cramp, they know the only way to get rid of them is to stretch the muscle. However, being that the hamstring and quad muscles are opposite of each other, when one stretches the other contracts. One can see my problem.

I went from happily moaning to flopping around the bed like a beached whale while my boyfriend went from being close to orgasm to wondering "What the fuck just happened?" He had to rub the cramps out of my hamstrings so that I could stretch the quads.

One of my more priceless moments having sex. Of course, my personal belief is that sex should be fun and funny, and if you can't laugh with someone in bed then the relationship has some serious problems. Not that I laughed all that much at the time (although I seem to remember him choking back some chuckles at my expense) but I sure laughed about it afterwards.

My dentist

I guess I've always thought my dentist is hot. He's my dad's age though, so it's not something that I've ever really given much weight to - just that he's very attractive for his age.

I had my bi-annual cleaning done yesterday (about four months late - oops, someone spank me for it!) and asked my dental hygenist about the potential risks using gags. I started work at a very vanilla sex shop, so I posed the question as one that my customers had asked me. My whole family go to this dentist, and hygenist, and while they all know to some degree or another about my kink there's no need to have it bandied around. Anyway, for those who care about the response, she was quite concerned about people having their jaw stretched for long periods of time because it can put stress on the joint and cause it to become dislocated. Ouch. This is why my new favourite gag is duct tape - that and the fact that it was so hot when it was used on me. And I couldn't drool, which I hate. Or love. Or one of those love/hate things that D/s and SM is full of. *smile*

Anyway, so my dentist comes in to do his quick check of my teeth and I'm expecting the same old routine that I hear every time I go, which is that I have perfect teeth (when I was younger he told me I should win "Miss-Perfect-Teeth 19-- <-insert year here) and that can you believe that I've been coming to him since I was three? How time flies!

Instead, he's poking around at my back molar where I have a cavity *blush* and then he asks me:

"Are you flossing, young lady?"

Suddenly it didn't feel like an innocent, run-of-the-mill dentist appointment. I'm sure I blushed. I mumbled something - didn't matter what because I couldn't talk anyway with the instruments in my mouth. I started imagining some scene where I defiantly say "No! I'm not flossing and you can't make me!" and him turning me over in the chair (because I'm lying down at that moment in the dental chair) and spanking me until I promise to take better care of my teeth.

Ahhh what a nice daydream.

Of course, I have to go back in a few weeks to have that cavity filled and I know that I will be thinking about this as he's drilling into my tooth...

*grin*

"Until Death Parts Us"

They had met a few years ago and he had almost instantly captured her imagination. Within a few weeks he had invaded her dreams and a few months after that had taken up permanent residence in her heart.

She loved him in a way she had never dreamed possible. She loved everything about him, from his integrity and honour to the glint in his eye when he was being mischievous to the freckles on his arms.

There was a part of her that had thought this day would never arrive – the wedding day. It dawned brilliantly sunny with a clear blue sky; a good omen with which to start a marriage.

She had only her best friend with her to help her dress and do her makeup. She looked beautiful when they were finished, which was as it should be on this important day.

The ceremony was beautiful and everything she had ever dreamed it would be. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t spoil it, and she kept that promise, even when he promised his new bride to love her “until death parts us” and slipped the ring on her finger.

Did you know you can hear a heart break? She heard it, a distinct snap as she looked at her bare hands in her lap and then back at the joyful couple sharing their first kiss as husband and wife.

At the reception she kept a low profile, knowing family and friends would continually surround him and feeling like she didn’t belong. He had kept half an eye on her during the dinner, relieved to see her smiling and talking with her table partners, not realizing how deeply she had dug to find the strength to act happy. He became concerned when the dancing had started an hour ago and she wasn’t to be seen.

He caught up with her outside having a moment to herself. He said her name and she looked at him, one moment of anguish and heart wrenching pain before the shutters came down and left her eyes as blue and innocent as the sky had been earlier. She had admitted once that he was her conscience and kept her from lying to herself and he wondered, not for the first time, how it would feel to have someone that close to you and not be that close to them in return.

“How’re you doing?” he asked softly. She shrugged and laughed faintly.

“Fine. It was a wonderful ceremony-”

“I know how wonderful it was; I was there! I’m asking about you!” He didn’t like the wall she was building, the wall that had started growing from the second he said, “I do.”

She turned and looked him full in the face, letting him see the honesty and sincerity there. “If I had lived a thousand years I could never have found a better person to give my heart to. Not only did you never let it adversely affect our friendship but you allowed me the freedom to love you. You didn’t make me shut it up in a box and hide it away from you. You weren’t ashamed that I feel this way and you didn’t make me feel ashamed either. But today, you married the woman of your dreams. Today my dream…” She paused. “Today my dream shattered.”

He held out his hand in silence and she took it, not resisting as he pulled her back inside and onto the dance floor. She had vowed not to ask him for anything this day, to show support simply by her presence, but she couldn’t pretend that the feel of his arms around her didn’t cause the two halves of her heart to tremble. She didn’t speak until the song was almost over, resting her head against his shoulder and breathed in his cologne, letting her imagination go just this one last time.

“I told you once that it was a gift; that you take it with you wherever you go, and that doesn’t change because of today.” She stepped back, and her hands started to shake, caught in his grasp between their bodies. Her eyes filled with tears for the first time that day and as hard as she blinked them away, one rolled down her cheek. It was the first time she had cried in front of him.

“I’m so glad you found her,” she whispered. He leaned forward, caught in a moment with her that excluded everyone else, his family, all his friends, even his bride. He had known of her love for as long as she had, and had never pushed her away or made her life difficult because of it. He knew that she needed to say her piece and he selflessly gave her this moment, as he had done countless times in the past.

“I hope… I hope every day brings you as much happiness and love as you experienced today. I hope that your lives together are full of laughter and joy. I hope that every morning you wake up and thank god that this woman is yours forever. I hope-” She stopped, the lump in her throat keeping her from speaking.

He pulled her close again and wrapped his arms tightly around her. “I know,” he said simply. She clung for a moment, an endless moment where she dreamed that he had never met his wife, and they had not traveled the road that led to this place and this day, but then pushed away. This was not the time or the place to allow for weakness. This was his wedding day and she refused to bring him down.

“I love you,” she said, the first time she had ever said the words out loud to him, and then she turned and walked away. Forever after she thought she heard him whisper after her, “I love you too,” but she didn’t stop or turn around. It could have been her imagination and besides, she thought, some things are better left unknown.

The difference of one word

I just finished watching "Monster" which everyone raved about and said was sooo good. I didn't really think so, to tell you the truth. I ended up skipping through the scenes to find out what happened at the end because I just wasn't interested enough to watch all the way through.

One thing struck me during the scene where she kills her first john, when he has her tied by the wrists to the door handle and he grabs her hair and yanks her head back, before pouring something on her back (I didn't catch what it was) that causes her so much pain that she screams and thrashes around until her hands come free.

I've been there. The only difference? The one little word - consent. I've been tied up, had my hair pulled, played with asphyxiation, been in so much pain that I'm whimpering and pulling at my bondage to get away, thinking "Please, please don't do that again!" ... but it's not abuse.

All of a sudden I could see the picture from a vanilla point of view. To have never experienced sadism in a consenting situation would lead one to believe that all of our consenting play between adults has roots in scenes like I watched in "Monster." Unconsenting, unenjoyable, sick and twisted and perverted.

I'm a Libra. We always seem to see situations from both points of view. Every book I've ever read about star signs says that Libras make good peacekeepers and mediators because of that quality. I have never really been able to understand a vanilla's horror of BDSM play until now, really seeing the two scenes running side-by-side in my head. The only difference between them is that I am in one of them, and therefore I know the feelings and the thoughts that run through my head and his while we play. To someone on the outside, they would look the same.

Interesting thing to think about...

The end of something wonderful

I'm sure that it's silly to some people that I am so upset over the end of the tv series "Queer as Folk" but I am. I loved that show; I taped it religiously every Monday night and watched every rerun during the off-season. And now I just finished watching the Series Finale ...

I just bought a dvd player and I know that buying the five seasons of "Queer as Folk" will be my first purchases.

It always struck me as a little bit funny that so many of my straight friends would not even watch one episode. Because it was about gay people, they were immediately turned off. I'll tell ya, watching that guy-on-guy action turned me on! The lesbian stuff not so much but I'm sure any straight guy watching would have liked those scenes. (Interestingly enough, I know other straight women who think that male gay porn is hot and don't have any desire to watch two women getting busy. So much for the theory that every woman is bi-sexual, hey?) I just thought that the acting was superb and the storylines were great, and really, the issues that the gay community deals with are similar if not the same as the issues that plague the BDSM community.

Having sex any which way that does not necessarily include a man and a woman with "normal" penetrative sex into the vagina is considered deviant by society. I'm not homosexual but I am a masochist. Try explaining to one of those Christian fundamentalists that are running rampant in the US that pain is the only thing that truly turns me on and they are going to call me a freak and probably think that I am possessed by the devil. I say fuck them. Isn't it healthier, not to mention happier, to live your life by your own rules? As long as no one is getting hurt (unless they want to be ...) then do what you want, with who you want.

That attitude was what I loved about "Queer as Folk." They were completely unashamed of who they were and what they wanted, and I applaud the show for created such a wonderful hour for me to watch every week.

My first spanking

I knew it was going to happen; I just didn't know when.

I had been talking to this man that contacted me through a spanking website (spankinginternet.com) and we had planned to meet. That night we were talking on the phone and I was being a bit bratty. I admit it! I didn't want to study, didn't want to get down to business. He bribed me with a good girl spanking if I accomplished everything on my to-do list. Suddenly, I was flying through my books!

I had the most intense butterflies when I arrived at his house. It was actually going to happen! I had been fantisizing about spanking for so long but had never really imagined what it would be like for me in real life. I just lived vicariously through other people. But now, it was going to be me.

He was larger than I expected, and I thought to myself that I would not be able to get away from him easily if I tried to fight. The thought made me more nervous and more excited, all at the same time.

After a tour of the apartment he asked if I wanted to get started. I took a deep breath and said yes so we went to his bedroom. He positioned me nose against the wall, hands on my head. He then tucked my skirt up and pulled my panties down to my knees and then sat on the bed and admired me. It was difficult to stand there and not move. Not that I'm shy exactly (ha! not that I'm shy at all!) but I had never had anyone spend a lot of time on my bottom before.

He sat in the chair that was positioned in the middle of the room and called me over. I looked at him, a natural reaction but he snapped, "Eyes down!" He had two rules for me to follow that night: no eye contact, and I was to call him Sir with every response.

He positioned me on his right side, took both of my hands in his left one and guided me over his lap. I had never been in this position before but I felt like I had come home. I didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable at all. He petted and stroked and caressed my bare bottom and told me when I would jump, "You'll know when it starts. Just relax."

He started very gently at first, in very short bursts, and gave me lots of praise. I had my hands wrapped around his ankle and he took them from there and held them in the small of my back while he spanked a little bit harder.

There was a leather paddle lying on the floor beside the chair that I was doing my best to ignore but then he took it up and showed it to me, letting me touch it. He positioned me over his left knee instead of his lap and gave me eight strokes, having me count, thank him, and ask for the next. It was stingy but I liked it! Leather was immediately on the "love" list.

He left me standing at the wall again and got me a glass of water which I thanked him for but forgot to say "Sir". He was going to spank me for it (which would have really been too bad <-- tongue in cheek) but relented when I quickly corrected myself.

Then I was back over his knee, my upper body supported on the bed while he used his hand again, and then showed me paddle number 2. It was wooden, thin, and forked. He used it lightly until I made a slightly bratty remark; then I received a few sharp smacks. His comment: "You can see the potential of this to correct your behaviour?" My internal comment: "Wood is on the 'hate' list." *grin*

After a little bit more with his hand he positioned me with my hands on the chair and my bottom up in the air, displaying for him his handiwork. It could have been embarrassing but it was so right, to finally be submitting to dominance.

He asked if I had anything to say, which I now know translates to "say thank you." *lol* At the time, I chose to respond with "Nothing at this particular moment in time, no." He spun me around and started lecturing me about brattiness and how he didn't stand for it, and I made the mistake of looking at him. It was a new habit for me, to keep my eyes lowered at all times in the scene. I remember the feeling that shot through me when I realized instantly what I had done.

"I guess I'm showing you the cane sooner than expected," he said. "Hands on the bed." He swished it through the air a few times, making me jump and squirm with the anticipation. Did I mention he's a sadist? He landed one stroke and asked if I wanted any more. I said yes and I heard the amusement in his voice when he asked me to count. I think that he expected me to say no. He only gave me about four strokes in total, then sent me back to the wall for a brief bit.

Then I was called over to him to sit on his knee while he hugged me, and then he made me a cup of tea and we chatted. We realized that he hadn't given me any birthday spanks (it was the day after my 25th birthday) so he took my wrist and pulled me back to his bedroom where he threw me over his knee and gave me 25 quick spanks that I had to count, but I could hardly keep up he went so fast!

On the drive home I was so satisfied. I was high, really, on the endorphin rush and the feeling that finally I had figured out a piece of my sexuality. He never touched my pussy the entire time but I was so wet throughout the entire thing. A piece of me clicked into place that night and I started to embrace my masochistic tendencies that I had hidden from myself for so long. Like he said, I took to it like a fish to water.