I am feeling needy today, dirty thoughts dancing through my mind. My inner slut is begging to come out and play. She is hungry, so desperately hungry for her Master.
I mentioned a few posts ago that things have changed regarding the status of my relationship and that I was absolutely not going to talk about it. Just kidding, I’m going to talk about my relationship because this is a D/s blog and I want to use it for it’s intended purpose.
First let me tell you something – submission is hard for me. Not because I don’t want it or because my heart isn’t in it, but because I am always afraid of being hurt. For a long time after the disaster that was my first real love, I truly believed that I was not cut out for this life regardless of how badly I desired it.
Let us rewind to a month ago, almost to the day. I began to second guess myself and what I wanted in this lifestyle. I was also feeling needy. I just wanted attention and, being long distance for now, it isn’t always available when I need it. As much as I love the idea, it isn’t realistic (or healthy) to be in constant contact 100% of the time.
I’m not going to take all the blame here, there were some communication issues on both sides but I was not fair. I wanted him to make me stay. Long story short, a lot of accusations got thrown out about how his feelings are dependent on many different factors. They aren’t, but I made myself believe that they were. I ran away. Again.
Then I self-destructed, which some people may have read about on this blog before I hid those posts.
I expected him to have finally given up on me, but he didn’t. He was still there, willing to try again. Being without him hurt me so much that I promised I would try harder, show him exactly how much I wanted, and needed, to belong to him. And, I do… I do so much. I have renewed my resolve to follow his rules and to learn to give into my submission and this time it feels better. It doesn’t feel so forced, it feels natural… it feels like exactly what I needed.
There are still hurdles to climb. I need him to open up to me more and he is trying, I can tell. I need to learn to be more patient, to remember to take deep breaths, and to stop second guessing him. He has shown me over and over again that he worthy of my trust and submission and it’s my turn to prove to him that I am worthy of all the patience and love he has given me.
The below song is fitting, in a lot of ways. Also, RIP to one of the most influential artists in my life and one of the driving forces behind my treble clef tattoo.
That scene makes me laugh out loud every single time. ❤ Also, it has literally zero things to do with this blog post.
The actual point of this blog post is to complete the next prompt that I received in my e-mail from Loving BDSM (you can see previous writing prompts here). This one is about contracts and negotiations. I added rules to the title because I’m going to touch on that a little too!
“People read the word “negotiation” and imagine some sort of back and forth thing around a table in a formal way. It can be that, sure, but mostly it’s just the conversation you have to figure out what kind of D/s relationship you want for yourself. Submissives have the right to, and should, ask why a rule/task/ritual is being put in place and both sides should have the freedom to disagree, suggest other things, and make sure their needs are being met.
Negotiations aren’t a one time thing either. You’ll come back to this over and over again in your relationship. Will you have a contract? Do you need a checklist? What exactly does a negotiation sound like?”
Well, right off the bat, I will tell you that Sir and I do NOT have a contract and we probably never will. To me, they are a bit unnecessary. I honestly mean no offense to anyone who has a contract as part of their D/s, but it isn’t for me. We haven’t gone through any type of checklist either.
Do we negotiate? Of course. I actually had to discuss this with Sir a little because from our relationship thus far it has seemed like negotiation was never really a thing. Oh, but it was and definitely is a thing! If I am uncomfortable with something, I tell him and, thus, we negotiate. It’s basically a constant negotiation.
Back to the contracts, this doesn’t mean I don’t have rules, tasks, etc. I do and I keep a list of them on my phone. Instead of signing my name to something, I just agree that I am going to follow these rules and accept any consequences for breaking them. So perhaps it is more contract-ish that I though. However, contract or not, the option to walk away is always there. Not that I’m about to exercise that option. I am still a very smitten kitten. ❤ ❤ ❤
Keep an eye out for Sir’s answer to this prompt, I’m sure it’ll be along soon 😉
Also, because I’m now in the habit of adding soundtracks to my posts (literally just songs that have nothing to do with anything and happened to be playing as I typed…).
Today’s writing prompt (from Loving BDSM) is about titles and labels. You can find previous answers to these writing prompts here.
“Beyond the basic title of Dominant or submissive, are there other titles you prefer or are interested in exploring? Are there any that turn you off or don’t seem like a good fit for you?
Some titles for Dominants may be Master, Sir, Daddy, Mistress, Lady, etc. Titles for submissives can be pet, babygirl, little one, boy, girl, etc.“
To be completely honest, I have never EVER cared for nicknames or any type of title/label other than my own name. Stella is an alias that I use for this specific blog, otherwise I prefer when people use my actual name. That said, it’s a little different when it comes to my little D/s world.
Sir calls me a few different things: my love or my slave, for example. Outside of this blog, I actually refer to him as Master. Sometimes it gets a little more toward the degradation side of things with titles such as ‘slut’ or ‘fuckhole.’ I enjoy that in moderation. I have a nasty little habit of internalizing things like that – heavy degradation or humiliation is damaging to me.
There are names that turn me off. I hate the word ‘cunt’ when specifically directed at a person no matter the context. HATE it. Being referred to as an animal, specifically a farm animal would also be an absolute no-no. That would actually probably make me cry. LOL. Kitten is probably the only acceptable animal, because kittens are fuzzy and warm and cute unlike other animals that are fat and stinky and make gross grunting noises.
And, on that note, I am ending this post. 😉 If you have thoughts, let me know in the comments! Keep an eye out for Sir’s response to this same prompt!
Either I have far less feelings than I thought or my mind specifically goes blank when it comes time to blog. I stare at this blank page for 30 minutes before an idea even begins to float in my mind.
I’m just not an open person. Of course, I’d like to think I am. I am trying to be though, especially with Sir. Especially after Sunday’s mini-meltdown. It seems like all the parts of me that I consider scary do not scare him. I still don’t feel like I really deserve him, but I am so thankful I have him.
The distance still gets to me, but I’m doing my best to stay patient. I have expressed my fears regarding this matter to him a few times and I’m sure I will again at some point. That was one of the driving forces behind my meltdown. The anxiety just got to me. I have never been a patient person.
Yesterday was rough. It’s better now but I still feel a little off. To be honest, I’ve just overwhelmed with life. Being in the hospital threw me off and stuck me with so many bills I can’t afford. It’s okay I guess. Somewhere along the line I have to understand my life is more valuable than money… that infection could have killed me. I know that. But why don’t I believe It?
I have Sir and I am thankful. To be quite honest, I worried very much that my rash words would be enough to drive him away. I just had so many feelings… so many anxieties and fears and they all came tumbling out in a series of poorly thought out text messages.
I spent the last 30 minutes writing “I am a good slave because Master tells me so” over and over again. Even now I’m trying to repeat those words in my head, to make them stick. I want to trust him and part of me absolutely does. But part of me is still a terrified little girl.
Every Sunday I type out a post about how much I hate Sundays. Today is no different. I don’t hate them because I barely get to talk to Sir (although I do miss him) but because these are my last hours before yet another week of a job that is boring me to tears.
This particular Sunday is made worse because it’s also my last day of being 27. I know that 28 isn’t old, I don’t think it is… I just thought my life would be a lot different by now.
On a different note – Sir sent me a few links yesterday to posts he thought might interest me or be helpful. Every single one spoke to me in various ways and made me realize a few things. The first being that I need to be better at trusting him. He has given no indication that he is going to hurt me and, unlike all the others, he has raised no red flags in my mind. The second, I need to learn to completely give up control to him.
It’s a defense mechanism, trying to keep hold of even the tiniest shred of control. I love Sir and I want him to have it all. It’s a choice I need to make. My submission at its deepest level is not a choice. I need it, but I still need to make the choice to trust and obey. The choice to hand over the leash.
Rome wasn’t built in a day and none of this is going to happen overnight, but I’ve renewed my resolve. There is a lot of physical distance between Sir and I and it would be easy to just pretend to give up that control, pretend to follow the rules and complete my tasks. I do not and will not do that because I respect (and love!) Sir far too much. Besides, a lot of those rules are propelling me toward my own goals and I would only be selling myself short. He is in control and I trust him. Pleasing him makes me happy and that’s really all I want.