Night of the “Slappy Toys”.

First a back story…

About a week ago; during a scene; ‘Dear’ managed to break His favorite toy (the paddle) over my bottom half. Of course this made Him extremely upset. Not only was this His favorite, but also it dated back to almost the beginning of O/our D/s relationship. It was “old faithful”, and that alone gave it a huge sentimental value.

When it broke, all I remember hearing was the resounding “Fuck”  ‘Dear’ growled; as it cracked completely down the center.. over my rosy cheek. Of course I know I shouldn’t have done or said anything, but like a fool… (and I am not sure why) I giggled. I know.. I know..  that this was a “really” bad idea (in hindsight), and believe me… my bottom was made well aware of that fact too.

Now W/we jump to the present week…

On Wednesday, W/we went to a wonderful dinner at the home of some friends. During the course of the evening, the broken toy was discussed. After the whole story was related and laughed about, ‘Dear’s’ friend offered to show Him some items that were guaranteed NOT to break “unless; of course; she has an ass of steel”.

Soon to follow was a procession of “slappy toys” (amongst other interesting items). It was like going to the “Toys R Us” of BDSM. They ranged from paddles and straps, to whips and floggers… plus everything in between. Each one was analyzed and inspected by ‘Dear’. He meticulously checked the weight, feel, and even the construction of each item as it came up. At times, even smacking the different items against His skin, so that He could gauge the effect that it would produce when used.

( Let me just say at this point… the physical and psychological havoc this created was off the charts.Of course, this was evident by the several episodes of heightened redness(blushing) I exhibited.. and O/others noted.. throughout the night.)

Anyways… after the parade of “slappy toys” was over, ‘Dear’ settled on two items that He believed He would enjoy using. One of them was a standard “harmless” looking 5 gallon paint stick(about 2″ wide and 12″ long)that was given to Him, and the other was a menacing looking… mahogany stained… high glossed paddle that is about 4-5 inches wide by 1/4″ thick and maybe 6-8″ long(not to mention it was pretty heavy) that was loaned to Him with the condition that I post about the outcome of it’s use (hence the reason for this blog.. ).

Now W/we fast forward to last night. As ‘Dear’ and I were relaxing in bed, He informs me that He wants to do some testing with His chosen items and that I am to assume “the position” and get comfortable. (Are you kidding me? Comfortable?… Yea, okay… just remember to breath! *note sarcasm and anxiety here*) But of course, I did try the best I could under the circumstances.

As I lay there with my ass propped up in the air, ‘Dear’ begins to very calmly rub each item against my exposed bottom and explain that He is going to test both items tonight. That way He could see exactly which He prefers most. (OK, the anxiety just went up another notch) In order to do this testing; I was informed that He planned on using one item on each side of my bottom. That way neither item would interfere with the outcome of the other.

So, as I lay there squirming under the feel of each item and listening to His commentary.. He asks out of nowhere “what are you feeling right now?”..

BRAIN FREEZE…  Come on, come up with an answer…  anything…  something…

“Did you hear me?”, He asked.

“Yes Dear”, I replied.

“Then what are you feeling?”, He asked again.

“Anxiety”,  was the first word that popped out of my mouth.

“Why?”, He asked.

“I’m not sure”, was the reply

“Well, which one would you like to start with?” He asked.

HOLD UP… What’s the right answer here?.. What if I pick one and He decides to use the other one, just because?… My analytical mind has now gone into overload. Of course it didn’t help that He was rubbing both of them across my ass intermittently.

“I don’t care ‘Dear'” I replied, and then re-thought “Actually, I want the stick first ‘Dear'”

 He stopped the rubbing and leaned in close to my ear and whispered “Why? Do you think it will be the easier of the two?”

“Yes ‘Dear'” .. Because after feeling the weight and span of the paddle vs. the stick, I was convinced that it was the one that would cause the most discomfort of the two.

After a second or two of thought, He responded with “I think you are wrong.”

Then he sat back up and announced…  “Let’s begin!”.

As requested, ‘Dear’ did begin with the stick. And during the course of the session, I learned three things…

1.”Oh Fuck!” will NEVER be accepted as a safe word.

2. Always.. ALWAYS.. believe that ‘Dear’ knows best.

… and… 

3. Never let the size of a “slappy toy” fool you.

After everything was all said and done, I have come to this conclusion…

The paint stick hurts like a BITCH compared to the paddle, but both items achieve the same results when used by ‘Dear’.

 

** Special credit given to Golden Butterfly for the term “Slappy Toys”, and her Master for the Blog inspiration and use of the paddle. Thanks! **

 

Analysis of a Choice

Don’t you just hate it when you are pulled up short and forced to really analyze what it is that you want out of life?..  Or better yet, what you want out of your life with someone else?

I have come to realize that in the world( D/s or vanilla),  knowing and understanding what you want is the foundation for almost everything. The only way to achieve this knowledge and understanding is to analyze.  To really step back and look at everything that is involved. I mean think about it…

Knowledge and understanding is such a powerful thing.  It decides if you are looking for something that is 24/7, or maybe just a play date.  It decides if you are going to be a top, bottom, or anything in between.  Hell,  it even decides if you are going to participate at all.  But, because life is ever evolving and people are always changing; analysis becomes a stepping stone that constantly gets revisited. And at this time, it is one that I am visiting.

Over the past couple of weeks I have been throwing around the idea of becoming a slave…  this of course, is in lieu of being a submissive, which I already am. However; I feel that this would be the next step in my journey. I am not really sure why/how the change will make a difference, but it is something that the inside of me wants… and that’s where my analysis lies…

When I first came into this relationship,  my vision wasn’t so completely blinded to the expectations of  a D/s relationship.  Thankfully, I did a lot of reading and research. That alone helped to put me in a decent frame of mind for where I am now.

Sure, I had some misconceptions when I first started.  I think we all do, because fantasy is nothing like reality.  Hell; I even remember thinking at one point,  “oh yea, a little spanking now and then would be kinda hot”.  Well let me just say this… spankings hurt!  All pain aside though, do I still think they are hot? Yes, but in a different way.  Now they take on this new type of  allure…

This allure is sort of an unconscious understanding.  An understanding that your mind makes during the process ..  especially for a submissive.  It  does this by reminding you that your body is not your own.

This lure can be so compelling  at times, that for me it’s almost embarrassing. Sometimes even to the point of acting out… just to fulfill that need.  All because I am to embarrassed or ashamed to ask for it. Call me a masochist if you will, but for me… it helps remind me and reinforce my position as a submissive.  However; that is a whole other story.

Sorry for the sidetrack…  but as you can see, that is where the lifestyle of  D/s catches you. Once you begin to truly delve into it, it begins to change your mindset. It draws you in deeper and deeper. Opening you up to so many possibilities, that it is almost impossible to return to anything that you once believed as “the norm”.  But alas, that is not what we are here to analyze. Therefore; lets get back to the thought at hand.

After some discussions with ‘Dear’, some really thought provoking questions came into play.  So,  I thought I would try to tackle them the best that I could. And what better way to analyze them, but to document them in a blog.

So…  Without further ado, here is what my analytical mind came up with…

Why do I want to take this step now?

Well…  Because I believe that I can give more.  I feel the need to offer more…. I am not sure what that ‘more’ is, but whether it is my trust,  love, or submission…  I just feel the need to offer more.

What would my expectations be, as a slave?

Now this one is a little more difficult.  I almost feel that by answering this,  I am trying to tell ‘Dear’ how to be master…  I know this may not make sense to others, but for me it causes a glitch every time.  Therefore; I will try to answer the best that I can.

If I were to be truthful, I would say that I expect Him to be compassionate and understanding.  Yet, at the same time I would want Him to be firm and in control.  I expect Him to be considerate and patient, but also would want him to be concise and consistent.  I expect that He will have rules and guidelines. Without them, how will I know what He expects of me? I expect that there will be discipline. Discipline is good, because that will teach me how to grow and be all that He needs. I also expect that there will be punishment…  some to reinforce the structure of discipline, and others to empower His sadistic side. And the last thing that I expect…  to no longer be in control. To no longer have my life be my own… but instead become an extension of  His. Much like an appendage that works for His will.

All of these things…  that is what I expect.  However;  I also know that life doesn’t always meet our expectations.  However; sometimes… just sometimes…  it exceeds them.

Would I have any limitations?

Besides the basic protections for life and limb, the only limitations that I can foresee are in regards to my children. This is not because I believe  ‘Dear’ wouldn’t keep their safety(physical, mental, or emotional) in mind.  I know better!  That would always come first. More so because, when everything is said and done… I am ultimately the responsible party. Not only responsible to them, but for them as individuals. Therefore, I would always have a say.

And the final question…

Would I be comfortable within my choice?

I believe that in the beginning, I might possible rut and buck at some of the control transfer. I may even revolt! This will not be because I don’t desire the outcome, but because of the deeply ingrained self-reliance that I have lived with for more than a decade.  There may even be times where I feel that I resent it. That will be because of an old mindset. One that I realize no longer works for me.  However, with understanding, love, and patience; I believe that all of this will eventually subside. Not only subside, but possibly find that I will grow pleasingly comfortable within my chosen position.

And that chosen position would be one of slave.

 

The need to be broken

For this submissive, inside there lies a need so deep..  so inherent, that it refuses to be ignored.  This desire is so strong that it gnaws away at your inner most being until it’s demands can no longer be ignored…

What is this thing? This entity that consumes this submissives thoughts and desires? It is the need to be broken… To be torn apart piece by piece. To have everything that you are and all that you feel stripped away and laid open and dissected, so that it can be seen for what it is. That complete and utter release of control. Control over thoughts…  emotions… reason…  everything.  With nothing left but just to exist.

For in that state of brokenness, I believe that one can be rebuilt again. Rebuilt with no claims to jealousy, pettiness, or manipulation; but built whole… in love, honesty, and trust. Completely true to one’s inner desires, and finally becoming one with your true nature.

The Blog of ….

Sitting here, I started thinking about what I wanted to write.  Amazingly enough (note sarcasm here), I am sitting here with writers block.  I tried looking at journal prompts and other writings, just to see if something would excite the artistic side of my brain.  But alas, nothing really tickled my fancy.  So guess what? …. Yippee you….. You get a blog about not being able to write!

Disclaimer: The following is probably just going to be a bunch of drivel, but it’s all I could come up with.  So as a fair warning, you may just want to skip this blog post and move on.

I think this is probably one of the areas that frustrates me to no end sometimes. Mostly because in a normal day I can come up with all kinds of witty, sarcastic, or humor dripping quips. But do you think for one second that I could make those appear on command? Maybe even something so small that I could write about it?

But Nooooooooooooo…………

That’s right…  even though I can’t get my stupid brain to shut off have the time… I have come to realize that regardless of whether it’s shutting off or not, it’s apparently not running in circles to help me.  Believe it or not, that shit is running to please it’s self!  And there is not a damn thing that I can do about it!

*grumble*

Not only does this frustrate me, but at times it frustrates ‘Dear’.  It frustrates Him because this is the type of thing that keeps me from writing in a journal like a good little submissive. Thankfully He is a very understanding Master and doesn’t think to harshly about it, otherwise my backside would probably be bright red all the time(and even though He would probably enjoy that aspect, He doesn’t use it as a reason to incite punishment).  Otherwise; He would probably end up with a bunch of journal entries that said “Blah, blah, blobbity blah”,  just because I am a smart-ass like that… and well… to keep my ass from smarting too.

So there you have it. My blog of not being able to blog. Now that I have gotten it out of the way, maybe… just maybe…. my brain will decide to cooperate and allow me to actually come up with something mind blowing and life altering later(okay, that is wishful thinking). But it’s a thought!

Anyways, hope everyone else has a great day otherwise.

Putting Myself in His Hands

I can totally relate.

deviant wench

BDSM.

Such a short acronym, and yet it encompasses so very very much.

Bondage & Discipline, Domination & Submission, Sadism & Masochism.

When I was young, I knew I was kinky. I liked bondage, giving and receiving. I had fantasies, which I never admitted to my ex (and first lover), about being tied to an altar, fucked by a long line of anonymous men in hooded robes. In another favorite, shared (for many years) only with a BFF when we were both in middle school, I was tied up so that a waterfall hit my clit, forcing me to have orgasm after orgasm. I got turned on by the idea of forced sex, the stereotypical “rape fantasy” that most men (including too many in the BDSM world) don’t understand at all. But somehow, the power exchange inherent in most of those fantasies escaped my conscious notice. I certainly never envisioned…

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A Path of Slave…

Soooooo…………..

The other day, ‘Dear’ sent me a message referring to me as His “sexy little slave”… And let me just say, that’s all it took…. My mind took off at full gallop.

Over and over again, the same thought kept passing through my brain…” What are you?”

Now to most, this simple statement would have been chalked up to a very endearing sentiment. I even thought it was sweet for all of about 5 minutes. However after that first 5 minutes; with the way my mind works; I disassembled and analyzed it 5 different ways from Tuesday. Oh don’t get me wrong, I didn’t analyze the intent behind the statement, because I know that it was intended in the most loving and endearing way. What I analyzed was the fact that ‘Dear’ had actually referred to me as a slave. When did that happen, how was I a slave?

You see, since the beginning of O/our D/s relationship, I have always maintained the “submissive” title and position. Not because I felt there was anything wrong with being a ‘slave’, but mostly because I just didn’t believe that I fit it. After all; slaves give up everything, right? They give up all choice, and bend to their Master’s will. Therefore; since I still hold a lot of power being a mother and a wife, there is no possible way that I could be a slave. Or could I?…..

After some more thought, I realized that this wasn’t the first time that a reference was made in regards to my nature. No I haven’t actually been referred to as a slave outright, however; it has been stated that I have some slave-like qualities. So it got me to thinking. Maybe there is something to this… just maybe… could it be that my submission is transforming?

Possibly taking on a new level of transcendence?

Is that even possible?

I guess that will be something that I will have to delve a little further into, to find the answers that I seek.

**Picture Credit: (taken from Google pictures), I do not own the rights**

Sadistic fantasy

I begin to stare… enthralled. I can’t seem to look away.
My breathing hastens, adrenaline pumping, and my heart begins to pound…
harder and faster.
I follow on, unable to leave or divert.
Suddenly the end approaches…
I am left detached… floating… spent!
I have never had any writing affect me the way that this one did.

And…. They are not the SIR!

Obviously since I have only been involved in D/s for about 6 months, I still consider myself fairly new to the ins and outs of how things work. However; I have come to notice that there are a few things that kind of irritate the heck out of me… one of them being “submissive trolls”.

Throughout the entire time I have been involved with a D/s relationship, I have done a lot of reading and studying. Mostly because I wanted to understand more about myself and my inherent nature, but also to see what others feel about having the same nature. While doing all of this research, I have come across the same statement time and time again… “Why do some Doms’ feel that they can just approach any old sub and expect them to bow down to their particular brand of domliness!” Well guess what… you can expect a lot more of it because there are to many submissives that have given them the wrong impression of what submission is and how it works.

But I digress, so let me explain….

What is a “submissive troll”, you ask? Well…. it is one of those submissives’ that wander around the realm of BDSM and salutes anything and everything with a resounding “Master/Daddy/Sir…or any other title you can come up with”. Now I am not talking about the occasional Sir/Madam used as a term of politeness when addressing someone, but the out and out… “Please abuse me, because I will never know the difference since I want to be dominated by anyone that thinks they can”  type of address. You ALL know who I am talking about… those submissives’ that creep/troll around looking under every single rock for someone to dominate them. Even if that person doesn’t want to be their particular brand of dominant.

What bugs me so much about this particular kind of submissive?

Well first of all, they give out the wrong kind of impression to a vast majority of Doms’, especially newer ones. I even believe that is why there are so many Doms that use the “I am Dom, hear me roar and you will bow down” approach. Just like a child taking it’s first step, new Doms’ need to go through a learning process. And guess what? Part of that training process comes from the submissives’ that they align themselves with… and in the beginning… it will probably be one of these types, because they are so easy to find. Therefore; they are going to be trained wrong right from the word BOW.

Yes I know that this seems a little short sighted when you first think about it, but honestly… it is probably more true then anyone realizes… maybe even more than anyone cares to admit.

So… now the question is, how do W/we attempt to change this behavior?

Well that is a whole other blog…

~the submissive~

~the submissive~
Hello E/everyone… I am sweetcheeks. I also go by the tag ~the submissive~.

The name “sweetcheeks” was given to me about 2 years ago (when my current Dom /husband first began dating). It was originally bestowed as a term of endearment, but was carried over as my submissive name, when W/we decided on a D/s relationship.

My Dom and I married about a year and a half after W/we first met, and began O/our D/s journey about 2 months into O/our marriage. So far, W/we have been living 24/7 in the lifestyle for about 6 months, and this is to document some of those stages along the way.