First, some background info:
I am stubborn, competitive, and fiercely independent. I have been in positions of authority for my entire professional career. I make the plans and oversee their execution. I discipline. I terminate employment. I make the decisions. I have been in logistics and operations for over 10 years. I have been the shot caller on things as simple as run of the mill production operations to complex events (that I won't specify here) that are matters of life and death. I am always in charge. Except in my relationship. And I prefer it that way.
I'd always been a little kinky. Liked it a little rough. My partners were all mostly receptive of that, less one or two. Being in control in the bedroom was hot....but I never got the same or similar treatment in kind. Thus, it was never truly satisfying. I grew tired of being in charge All The Time. At that point, my libido dwindled until it was non-existent.
Enter: My Love. I met My Love 13 years ago in college. She and I were both coming into our own and very awkward. I was newly out as a lesbian. She was becoming more comfortable with being bisexual (her conservative label, identifies as lesbian now). We were both giant nerds with little experience flirting with women. I was a two sports college athlete and she played Dungeons and Dragons. Yet, we were drawn to one another. We hung out several times but neither was brave enough to make our intentions clear. So the connection was missed.
Thirteen years later, I was going through a divorce when I got her message. The spark was lit again immediately as my heart raced at the sight of it. Long story short, we've been together for over a year. I found a new job, quit my old one, and made the 300 mile move to her. We moved in together shortly after. I felt it was my responsibility to keep the household (with her two kids) functioning. I cleaned. I did laundry. I managed the bills, savings, and frivolous spending. She helped, of course. But I felt it was my responsibility. I had trouble relaxing. Letting go and ignoring responsibility in favor of quality time. I began having panic attacks when my To Do list was overwhelming. My only relief was in the bedroom and only when she'd take me forcefully and aggressively. I found myself in a state of relaxation I wasn't sure I'd ever experienced before. It was blissful and euphoric.
We began talking about BDSM in the bedroom quickly after that. We began experimenting with various kinks. Each time I was on the submissive side. She seemed to flourish in her dominant role. She's been in the role in the past so she was very knowledgeable. Most of her subs had been males who were really into humiliation. And since she was into women, she didn't feel the same sexual response or connection as they did. With her and I, there was love and mutual respect. There was need and desire. There was power exchange backed by emotion. There was zero humiliation. I am a prideful person. I have strong and unwaivering moral values. I was clear I would not tolerate any form of humiliation. And she had zero desire to humiliate me for her own gains.
We both noticed the improvement in each other's mental health. I started asking about maintaining our roles 24/7. She and I discussed and researched together. We laid out responsibilities for the roles together. Here's where things become outside the norm...
Typically the sub serves their domme. This is commonly done through routines like making morning coffee, preparing dinner, household chores, etc. I told her I just couldn't be in charge on the professional side AND at home. She felt empowered by me NEEDING her to stay mentally healthy. To keep anxiety and panic attacks at bay. She laid out each of our responsibilities. After answering some questions of mine for clarity, we agreed. I formally submitted to her. She accepted.
I go to work. I pay the bills. I'm available for play whenever she wants, with a few reasonable and agreeable exceptions. I anticipate her needs with hot baths, massages, flowers, and snuggles.
She is in charge of the house. She cleans and does laundry at her leisure. And I'm able to let that go. I help when she instructs me to and that's not often. She manages our bills, savings, and frivolous spending. She manages our schedule as a couple. She manages appointments. She manages the kids' schedules.
In exchange, I get to do a few things. I get to kneel for her in the playroom she made for us almost daily. I get sexual satisfaction. And I get to let go of all the stressors that were keeping me from being the best partner possible. I get to relax when I see dishes in the sink because I know she's going to handle it. I get to have the hottest and most deliciously painful sex ever. I keep telling her I think she's got the short end of the stick in this deal. She says she's supposed to have it. She's the keeper of my mental and physical health and that's a huge responsibility. She feels powerful, trusted, and honored.
I was very against collars of any kind from the beginning of our discussions. After some time being in this dynamic, and seeing how wonderful it was to be loved like that, I approached the subject again. We went over symbolism, both typical and each of our own. We discussed types of collars. What they each meant and were used for. Why she liked the idea of me wearing hers. I decided I'd love to wear hers. She took my tastes into consideration (I don't wear much jewelry) and made me a day collar herself. I accepted it willingly. And we both cried like dorks.
While we aren't the typical D/s relationship, we communicated our desires and developed what fit us perfectly. I am still an equal to her. We use a capital S in D/S. And I belong to her. Completely.
