…and when I bleed
your secret name….
it lingers like libidinous
….echoing metallic euphoria
intertwined with pain…
held rapt by
…and when I bleed
your secret name….
it lingers like libidinous
….echoing metallic euphoria
intertwined with pain…
held rapt by
I’m coming to the conclusion that this body is in collusion with a darkly sadistic mind.
I’m perpetually on my knees with a cunt that sweetly aches for his tease and depraved cravings that strike me blind.
I’m covered in skin that itches for his owners mark as he plays me like a delicate harp, my life purpose he has now reassigned.
I’m the culmination of his diabolical celebration blithely laid out as a sacrificial soul to be eternally tightly confined.
I’m desperately grateful to submit, it’s my will that I forfeit to my sadistic owner as his slave that he has cleverly defined.
It is the darkness which will always
It mimics your footfalls and bleeds your
It will linger behind you as a reminder,
It shudders and sighs, your beautifully
It moves with all of your gestures on
It is your gray side, a curse, a hidden
It can drown without water and burn
It is your truth, your mimic, and your
It will chase you, delicately led on your
It is your nothing, your toy, a flicker, a
It exists for your pleasure, amusing,
It will beg, plead, and whimper, yours to
I love when Daddy treats me as his It. I have the capacity to fully immerse and forget my identity, becoming only a construct of his desires. The hard part is bringing me back, reminding me of my humanity, and making me remember that I have to be a person too. Somedays I want nothing more than to remain It forever, but thankfully he understands the balance that is required.
When two natural leaders come together in a D/s dynamic the likelihood of problems arising from this is very high. I can’t speak from the standpoint of the dominant but I can speak of how I struggle with this as a submissive.
I am a decisive, smart, and educated woman. Not only that, but my education lies in the social sciences. So, it is literally my training to analyze relationships, behaviors, and thought patterns then pinpoint where the problems are coming from. This is great for me as a submissive, I am very adept at recognizing needs in our dynamic. The problem is that I’m also trained to form a plan of action to deal with these problems, correct behaviors, circumvent barriers, and if I don’t feel competent or equipped then I either point the way to find someone that is or research my knowledge gap. So one can see how it is difficult for me to be able to not be that whole plan of action person.
Daddy and I have a minor dynamic issue, which I won’t be discussing in detail. I recognized this issue and I made the decision about how to best handle it for me and for him without even giving him a chance to think about the issue and before I even mentioned it. I basically said “This is a problem and we are going to do this and this, I need it and you need it too.” Daddy agreed with me about the issue, not so much about the plan, because I didn’t even give him a chance to.
It took me about 12 hours to realize what I did. In a normal relationship this wouldn’t have been such a major mistake on my part, although even in a normal relationship I should be working with my partner to come to solutions rather than just deciding for us. My mistake here is a little bit more severe considering the parameters of our dynamic.
We aren’t there yet, but the eventual goal is that he fully leads our lives. So, what I did was I decided what I needed, I decided what he needed, and I decided what to do in order to fulfill both of our needs. Uh, isn’t that kind of his job? Yeah, it is. Now, that isn’t to say that if I notice that Daddy is cranky and he needs a sandwich that I shouldn’t go make him a sandwich. When it comes to the dynamic and how it’s guided and handled, that is all his.
I wasn’t wrong to speak up about the problem, I got that part right! I was wrong in the way that I handled that recognition. I should have presented it to him, told him how it’s making me feel, and asked him to take it from there. I should have trusted him to be able to do that, I should have had faith that he would handle it. Trust and faith aren’t born in a handful of months, but they can’t be born if we don’t give them what they need to grow.
Daddy didn’t call me out on this, I called myself out. Part of what makes me a great partner is that I continually analyze myself, my actions, and my feelings. I’m pretty good at recognizing when I have made a mistake and accepting the consequences. In this particular example Daddy hasn’t imposed any consequences, likely because he knows that I have already learned and grown from it.
I’m sure that I’m not the only submissive that struggles with ceded power. I’m certain that I will have similar struggles again and again, but I also have trust and faith in myself to become the slave that Daddy desires. It takes time, effort, humility, thoughtfulness, and love. I am grateful for the opportunity to commit all of those things to my Daddy.
Some say that it’s unacceptable behavior. Others say that it’s a bad idea. Still more look at it in disdain.
He allows me a space to behave unacceptably and he just happens to find that to be preferable. He is the best bad idea that I’ve ever taken to. He looks at me with curiosity.
Some say that it’s irreparably broken. Others say that it’s a disaster waiting to happen. Still more think that it’s a freak.
In his realm my brokenness is beautiful. He is the safe place that I get to go be a disaster. I am his favorite thing to play with, his toy, his broken little freak.
Daddy and I have recently moved to a new aspect of our dynamic and it is a beginning step towards our ultimate goals. I am no longer allowed to ask for orgasms, I only take what he gives me when he decides to give it. I asked for this!
My sex drive is wild, and I also really depend on orgasms to maintain my balance emotionally. So me putting that into his hands and trusting that he knows what I need and when I need it and choosing if/when he will provide for those needs is a big deal.
I have tried orgasm control with others in the past and it never worked. I would always disobey. Not only would I disobey but I’d also feel indignation. I would think things like “How dare someone think so highly of themselves that they think they can decide what I need?!” Or “This is so stupid and nothing but an ego trip.” Add to that, I never really felt like anyone that I played with knew me well enough, understood my body, or even really gave a fuck about my emotional balance. It was very nearly a hard limit for me, giving over that control. I kept trying though because I found it to be challenging and fun, seeing how long I could make it before I disobeyed was like a fun little game, but I always knew that when *I* wanted it, I’d just disobey and that’s that.
It took Daddy about 12 weeks of constant work to get me to even start considering being a good girl. Add to that another 5 or so to get me to want and need to be a good girl, and to see that I really do trust him with it, I really want him to be the one that chooses now. Granted, I have only gone two weeks without intentionally disobeying, but it feels different now.
I don’t feel like I had anything taken from me, I feel like I have had something given to me. What he has given me is his trust, and a space to exercise the trust that I now feel for him. It has grown so much over the months, and it will only continue to grow.
It has only been a couple of days of trying this, but it hasn’t been hard like before. I’m not having those feelings like it’s stupid, unreasonable, unrealistic, or thoughtless. This time, I feel what I can only describe as a sense of wholeness and a sense of gratitude.
I’m grateful that he cares enough about me to control me, I m grateful that he has given me a way to please and satisfy him, I’m grateful that he spent real time and effort in learning me, I’m grateful that I can trust him with something that I feel is very important to my life balance. I’m also grateful that he didn’t say “Do this” and immediately expect me to be able to, he gave me what I needed to be able to do it first. Then he waited until I came to him and until it was my choice to give it to him.
Well played, Daddy.
Sadism and masochism are often misunderstood because there are so many different variations of it. For some it may be something that they engage in with play partners to feel a sense of power, for others it may be purely about punishment, and for still more it may be the novelty of the experience. I can’t speak for those people but I can speak about what it means to us. For Daddy and I, it is an expression of and avenue to intimacy.
The dance between a true sadist and masochist is intricate, intoxicating, and at all times interesting. I’m going to be leaving emotional play out of this because that’s a whole blog in and of itself. I am particularly speaking about my personal experiences with physical pain.
When I met my first Dominant, a sadist, back in the early 2000’s I had no idea that I was a masochist. Looking back, yes the signs were always there but I was young and lacking knowledge so I didn’t recognize it for what it was. He hurt me in a multitude of ways, and I deeply struggled with this. I couldn’t understand why I kept going back to see him for sessions, and why I would say never again and then two weeks later I’d be ringing him up. This lack of understanding of my nature, lack of knowledge about the lifestyle, and lack of valuable leadership on his part led me to ultimately ending the year long relationship and walking completely away from the lifestyle for 12 years.
From that 12 year point it has now been another 5 or 6 years, and I have had my fair share of experiences, some good and some bad. I also spent time learning about myself, learning about what makes a healthy dynamic, and learning the influences behind masochism. And we can’t forget that addictive little thing called sub space.
I learned not to be ashamed of what I am, and to value myself enough to accept that this is part of what makes me, me. I also learned that what I have to give is quite special and that whoever I give myself to needs to realize that along with the fun comes a responsibility to dedicate himself to our dynamic. The responsibility that he takes on is essential to maintaining the balance required to live this lifestyle, engage in some very deep edge play, and come out on the other side safe and sound.
When Daddy hurts me I feel absolute love and appreciation towards him and also coming from him. The intimacy that we share through experiencing pain together is like no other, and we are symbiotic in the way that each of us needs and provides for the other. He handles me carefully and skillfully while truly putting thoughtfulness behind every action. I rely on him to cultivate and shape my needs into what he wants and I rely on him to bring me back away from the edges that we skirt, never allowing me to topple over. He is my foundation, he is my source of joy, he is my future. He is my sadist.
Thank you for Daddy for all that you are, for all that you provide, and for allowing me to relinquish everything that I am into your capable hands.
He was silent in the way that he strode into my room, that obscure and hidden corner of my mind in which my vermilion submission blooms.
He set a solitary crimson candle alight with his patience and care, never overtly demanding yet always tempting me with his X-ray stare.
The candles flame languidly spread throughout my room, setting my scarlet core on fire. I began to slowly acquiesce my will, as his dominance became my hope to inspire.
Adroitly led by his leash, a newly fortified soul against solitude’s bloodied blade. I follow after him, needing and craving to always be at his feet drenched in his shadows shade.
I hear your voice whispering light into my clouds as your breath envelops me like ocean waves. It is the voice that once taught the world how to spin, and is now the commander of my passions, my hopes, and my dark proclivities. I follow your flickering movements with my insatiable eyes as I relinquish my will into your capable hands, my body aching, my mind enthralled, my soul calling to yours. I’m drenched in gratitude as I place my lips to your feet, worshiping your presence in my euphoric submission. I implore you to continue to guide, protect, and wholly own this slave until our last day.
I wrote this in a moment of anguish, perhaps more than merely a moment. It is, in my opinion, the most raw emotion that I have ever written. I am happily experiencing and writing new chapters now, but I wanted to share this one too.
For V, it was a good chapter.
If I could exist as but one thing in the wake of losing you, I’d be a charred and creased parchment. Crinkled and spotted with inky blots of mercurial tears, my words to you on the softest vellum.
I’d sacrifice myself, with only your will in mind, to feverishly write and burn another chapter. Thousands and thousands set to burn slowly, steadily, unendingly. The ashes of my thoughts, the blackened edges of my being.
If I could be something, I’d be your nothing. The words that you crumpled up and threw aside, pages that you pick up now and again, smoothing out the wrinkles, thoughtfully reading for a moment. The space between a heartbeat in your mind is worth a lifetime of use.
I would not even want to exist, while whispering your secret name, yearning to hear the words that say I am kept as a toy on your shelf. Nothing to you, everything to me. Your smudged and burnt pages.