naughtylittlegirl
06-10-2014, 12:24 AM
I wanted to say a few preliminary words about myself to provide context. First, I am new to BDSM: I've only been a sub for the last three months, and I have just scratched the surface. Second, I take submission quite seriously, but it does not constitute my entire identity. Submission (particularly my submission to my Dom) suits me remarkably well, giving me a unique sense of freedom. Yet I do endeavor to keep it separate from the rest of my life, and am cautious as to what I reveal. Third, my relationship with my Dom is precious to me, and thus I am not inclined to share much of what is between he and I. I haven't the slightest problem with people asking questions, but understand that I may sometimes choose not to answer :)
I decided this first post would be about communication. I believe it is without exception a fundamental aspect of any relationship, and at least as important in the BDSM scene.
What I have realized lately, though, is I am not overly qualified to talk about communication, not in the sense that I have thoroughly mastered this skill. For a short time, I honestly thought I had become so much better at communicating in the context of BDSM and kink that I was in fantastic form. There has been clear improvement, but I see plenty of room for more.
The truth is I am extraordinarily lucky. I have a genuinely remarkable Dom (that's Wardell, by the way, he's my favorite ). He is experienced, reflective, considerate, creative, brilliant, a fantastic writer, has a grand sense of humor, and we fit each other so stunningly well that I still pause on occasion and think "...how?". My Dom is an excellent communicator, and so much of what I have learned has come through our discussions and his example. The state of communication in our relationship is largely due to him, because of how he can read me, how he makes me feel comfortable enough that I can speak freely, and because he ensures that we talk about everything we ought and provides ample opportunity in which to do so. I will come back to this more in another post, but suffice it to say I am indebted to my Dom for guiding me. Sometimes I figure things are so good between us that I must be an awesome communicator in general, and therefore when I'm talking with others it must be pretty darn good too. This is not always the case, and I will be coming back to it in a future post.
For now, I want to back up to when I first joined gD at the beginning of March this year. Before this, I had done nothing beyond masturbation, reading tons of erotic fiction, watching porn, and playing with some sex toys. And you did read that entire list correctly: I have done nothing physical with anyone. Ever.
I joined gD almost on a whim, planning to just try a few dares. Then I started playing with doms, which led me to discover my submissive side. In reality, this was an exhilarating yet titanic step for me, and I was trying to proceed with some caution.
Some of you already know that I was briefly a slave shortly after I joined gD, and it didn't go so well. The experience did teach me that I needed to know myself better and place far more priority on communication. When I joined gD, I'd had no interest in becoming anyone's sub or slave, and settled on playing casually. I politely declined a few offers from doms looking for formal submission, and then received another that made me pause. What was offered was far more appealing because it included the opportunity for a real relationship, rather than just ownership. The dom and I chatted a bit and I felt he'd won me over, and in a moment of surreal excitement I chose to become his slave.
This was great for the first few days, thoroughly exhilarating, but by day three it started to break down. Why? Because we didn't know each other.
Looking back, it seems ridiculous that we talked for maybe a few hours, I was nearly clueless since most of my 'knowledge' came from fiction, and then I up and started calling this stranger 'Master'. I realized too late the massive gap between what I wanted and needed him to know and what I had actually divulged, so he didn't know me. And I didn't know him well enough to discern if I could please him.
Submission was far more difficult than I had anticipated. It wasn't simply about doing what I was told. I didn't know what made him upset or disappointed, nor could I read him. I didn't know how to approach him when I had concerns, which meant there was no real trust built between us. I didn't know what to expect or how to handle the accompanying thoughts and emotions. I got lost so quickly that it was truly terrifying. I realized that if I continued trying to be what I thought he wanted, I wouldn't be myself, and that we, in fact, did not fit.
This likely would have become apparent had we actually discussed things thoroughly and spent the time needed to get to know one another before entering into a formal BDSM relationship. I don't mean this to be a criticism of the dom - I am responsible for myself and my approach to the situation, and in the end we just did not suit one another. My impression at the time was that as a submissive I ought to follow the lead of the dom, that I could trust someone who seemed in control and experienced, and that it was largely the dom's responsibility to cover all the necessary bases. So when he knew what he felt he needed to know, I figured it was all set.
I have since learned that it is a right and responsibility, an absolute necessity, not simply as a submissive but as a human being that I require a reasonable amount of communication before I submit to a dom in any way. It does not mean I am making them jump through hoops simply to be difficult. It does not mean I am overstepping my place as a submissive. It means I value who they are and I value who I am, and the better we know the each other the better we can both please each other and protect ourselves. If I shirk this, I usually end up floundering in the session, generally disappointed, and even downright miserable. It's unlikely that the dom enjoys the experience much either.
I have heard several stories and warnings on this site regarding jumping in too soon. I wish I'd taken the time to watch and learn first, because even though my ex-master and I parted decently, it still hurt me far more deeply than I had expected. It's been months, and I can still remember quite clearly how it made my chest ache so much I couldn't draw a full breath, how I was on the edge of tears the whole day, sobbing violently once I was home and the door shut behind me, how scared I was when I realized I had come so far from being myself having agreed to things with which I was not comfortable, how disappointed I was that I had let down this dom and that I had made such a big mistake, how lonely and bruised I felt, and how discouraged I was at making such a mess so soon. I even felt somewhat betrayed and abused at the time. I considered leaving, and would have if several people who had been reading my posts (my blog was originally a journal of my submission) had not reached out and helped me through it all.
I did decide to stay and go back to doing tasks and playing casually, resolving to take the time to figure myself out and genuinely get my bearings. And perhaps after a while, when I felt I had sufficient distance, I would consider submitting formally again. But I was going to pursue this well or not at all, because I could not bear the thought of living that day over again.
One of the problems with my first foray into formal submission was that I was more focused on the idea of being of a slave than I was on the reality, which included the dom to whom I was submitting. I know that sounds remarkably obvious, but I really didn't consider it. If I had been thinking it through properly, I would have gotten to know him better before I placed myself in a long-term relationship wherein I would offer my submission and work to please him. I hate committing to something and then having to back out of it, because broken promises cause me a special kind of pain that I wouldn't wish on anyone. I don't want to fail anyone or cause anyone pain. In this case, I couldn't please the dom. I stepped into a role for which I was ill-equipped. I didn't know what to expect, how to separate the fiction from reality. I didn't even know what I really wanted, and it turned out I didn't want to be a slave. This in turn meant the dom didn't suit me either. So the whole thing was a lot of flash, and no substance.
These are just the first few thoughts I have on the subject of communication - I'm likely going to come back to this a lot as I continue to learn. What I have touched on above is largely why I insist that I talk for some time with anyone before I consider playing with him or her. Even though it is only casual play, I don't want to just take random stabs in the hopes of ending up with a decent session. But that's for another post.
I wanted to end by saying that taking my time with something that intrinsically carries such depth of impact is not a bad thing. Patience and clear, honest, thoughtful communication make a world of difference. The stakes are fairly high. On the surface it appeared at times to be just playing, just a stress release, or just exploring. Sometimes that was true. But when it came down to an all-out relationship, involving real commitment, there was significant gravity to that choice, and in my enthusiasm I did not treat it with the consideration and care it deserved. I was thoroughly unprepared for the intense emotional and psychological effects of submitting as I did, besides the physical aspects, and I did not know what submission really meant to me.
So that's how it all started. A whim, a message, a hasty decision, a notably fortuitous end, all culminating in an unforgettable lesson.
Good grief, I hope the next post comes out a little more cheerful.
I decided this first post would be about communication. I believe it is without exception a fundamental aspect of any relationship, and at least as important in the BDSM scene.
What I have realized lately, though, is I am not overly qualified to talk about communication, not in the sense that I have thoroughly mastered this skill. For a short time, I honestly thought I had become so much better at communicating in the context of BDSM and kink that I was in fantastic form. There has been clear improvement, but I see plenty of room for more.
The truth is I am extraordinarily lucky. I have a genuinely remarkable Dom (that's Wardell, by the way, he's my favorite ). He is experienced, reflective, considerate, creative, brilliant, a fantastic writer, has a grand sense of humor, and we fit each other so stunningly well that I still pause on occasion and think "...how?". My Dom is an excellent communicator, and so much of what I have learned has come through our discussions and his example. The state of communication in our relationship is largely due to him, because of how he can read me, how he makes me feel comfortable enough that I can speak freely, and because he ensures that we talk about everything we ought and provides ample opportunity in which to do so. I will come back to this more in another post, but suffice it to say I am indebted to my Dom for guiding me. Sometimes I figure things are so good between us that I must be an awesome communicator in general, and therefore when I'm talking with others it must be pretty darn good too. This is not always the case, and I will be coming back to it in a future post.
For now, I want to back up to when I first joined gD at the beginning of March this year. Before this, I had done nothing beyond masturbation, reading tons of erotic fiction, watching porn, and playing with some sex toys. And you did read that entire list correctly: I have done nothing physical with anyone. Ever.
I joined gD almost on a whim, planning to just try a few dares. Then I started playing with doms, which led me to discover my submissive side. In reality, this was an exhilarating yet titanic step for me, and I was trying to proceed with some caution.
Some of you already know that I was briefly a slave shortly after I joined gD, and it didn't go so well. The experience did teach me that I needed to know myself better and place far more priority on communication. When I joined gD, I'd had no interest in becoming anyone's sub or slave, and settled on playing casually. I politely declined a few offers from doms looking for formal submission, and then received another that made me pause. What was offered was far more appealing because it included the opportunity for a real relationship, rather than just ownership. The dom and I chatted a bit and I felt he'd won me over, and in a moment of surreal excitement I chose to become his slave.
This was great for the first few days, thoroughly exhilarating, but by day three it started to break down. Why? Because we didn't know each other.
Looking back, it seems ridiculous that we talked for maybe a few hours, I was nearly clueless since most of my 'knowledge' came from fiction, and then I up and started calling this stranger 'Master'. I realized too late the massive gap between what I wanted and needed him to know and what I had actually divulged, so he didn't know me. And I didn't know him well enough to discern if I could please him.
Submission was far more difficult than I had anticipated. It wasn't simply about doing what I was told. I didn't know what made him upset or disappointed, nor could I read him. I didn't know how to approach him when I had concerns, which meant there was no real trust built between us. I didn't know what to expect or how to handle the accompanying thoughts and emotions. I got lost so quickly that it was truly terrifying. I realized that if I continued trying to be what I thought he wanted, I wouldn't be myself, and that we, in fact, did not fit.
This likely would have become apparent had we actually discussed things thoroughly and spent the time needed to get to know one another before entering into a formal BDSM relationship. I don't mean this to be a criticism of the dom - I am responsible for myself and my approach to the situation, and in the end we just did not suit one another. My impression at the time was that as a submissive I ought to follow the lead of the dom, that I could trust someone who seemed in control and experienced, and that it was largely the dom's responsibility to cover all the necessary bases. So when he knew what he felt he needed to know, I figured it was all set.
I have since learned that it is a right and responsibility, an absolute necessity, not simply as a submissive but as a human being that I require a reasonable amount of communication before I submit to a dom in any way. It does not mean I am making them jump through hoops simply to be difficult. It does not mean I am overstepping my place as a submissive. It means I value who they are and I value who I am, and the better we know the each other the better we can both please each other and protect ourselves. If I shirk this, I usually end up floundering in the session, generally disappointed, and even downright miserable. It's unlikely that the dom enjoys the experience much either.
I have heard several stories and warnings on this site regarding jumping in too soon. I wish I'd taken the time to watch and learn first, because even though my ex-master and I parted decently, it still hurt me far more deeply than I had expected. It's been months, and I can still remember quite clearly how it made my chest ache so much I couldn't draw a full breath, how I was on the edge of tears the whole day, sobbing violently once I was home and the door shut behind me, how scared I was when I realized I had come so far from being myself having agreed to things with which I was not comfortable, how disappointed I was that I had let down this dom and that I had made such a big mistake, how lonely and bruised I felt, and how discouraged I was at making such a mess so soon. I even felt somewhat betrayed and abused at the time. I considered leaving, and would have if several people who had been reading my posts (my blog was originally a journal of my submission) had not reached out and helped me through it all.
I did decide to stay and go back to doing tasks and playing casually, resolving to take the time to figure myself out and genuinely get my bearings. And perhaps after a while, when I felt I had sufficient distance, I would consider submitting formally again. But I was going to pursue this well or not at all, because I could not bear the thought of living that day over again.
One of the problems with my first foray into formal submission was that I was more focused on the idea of being of a slave than I was on the reality, which included the dom to whom I was submitting. I know that sounds remarkably obvious, but I really didn't consider it. If I had been thinking it through properly, I would have gotten to know him better before I placed myself in a long-term relationship wherein I would offer my submission and work to please him. I hate committing to something and then having to back out of it, because broken promises cause me a special kind of pain that I wouldn't wish on anyone. I don't want to fail anyone or cause anyone pain. In this case, I couldn't please the dom. I stepped into a role for which I was ill-equipped. I didn't know what to expect, how to separate the fiction from reality. I didn't even know what I really wanted, and it turned out I didn't want to be a slave. This in turn meant the dom didn't suit me either. So the whole thing was a lot of flash, and no substance.
These are just the first few thoughts I have on the subject of communication - I'm likely going to come back to this a lot as I continue to learn. What I have touched on above is largely why I insist that I talk for some time with anyone before I consider playing with him or her. Even though it is only casual play, I don't want to just take random stabs in the hopes of ending up with a decent session. But that's for another post.
I wanted to end by saying that taking my time with something that intrinsically carries such depth of impact is not a bad thing. Patience and clear, honest, thoughtful communication make a world of difference. The stakes are fairly high. On the surface it appeared at times to be just playing, just a stress release, or just exploring. Sometimes that was true. But when it came down to an all-out relationship, involving real commitment, there was significant gravity to that choice, and in my enthusiasm I did not treat it with the consideration and care it deserved. I was thoroughly unprepared for the intense emotional and psychological effects of submitting as I did, besides the physical aspects, and I did not know what submission really meant to me.
So that's how it all started. A whim, a message, a hasty decision, a notably fortuitous end, all culminating in an unforgettable lesson.
Good grief, I hope the next post comes out a little more cheerful.