Reaction Junkie and I have a little protocol around what I wear. Whenever I’m going out, I ask him what to put on. I’m not asking him to pick out my whole outfit, mind, since that isn’t his strong suit. Instead, I ask him if I should wear a skirt, dress, or shorts. Now that it’s winter, I’ve replaced “shorts” with “pants” and “leggings.” I really like this protocol, since I get to feel that sense of being controlled and Reaction Junkie gets to make pick out some of my clothes, but without any of the pressure of having to pick out a full outfit.
While I don’t ask Reaction Junkie to make all of my clothing choices for me, sometimes I do ask for input when I can’t make up my mind about a particular aspect of my outfit. Last night was such an occasion. I couldn’t decide which boots to wear, these ones, or my big stompy boots. I was leaning towards the stompy ones, but wasn’t sure, so I put these on and asked Reaction Junkie what he thought.
He thought for a second and told me, “Those.” For a moment, I thought about disagreeing and wearing the other boots, but then I remembered my place. It doesn’t matter what I want. What’s important is what Reaction Junkie wants. Even if I think he might be wrong, and that a different course would be better, I need to listen to his decision. If it’s something major, I can, of course, speak up, but even then, if he still wants me to do what he initially said, I must obey. And if I disagree on something minor, I should, no, will obey without question. So I wore the boots that he picked.
The details of Reaction Junkie’s preference or order don’t matter. The important thing I that I remember that I’ve subsumed my preferences and wants into his. If I prefer something that runs contrary to what he wants, I will follow through with his desire. A particular decision may not be or even become what I would like, but by virtue of the fact that it is what Reaction Junkie prefers, I will want to follow through with it. I may not want it specifically, but going along with it will make me happy, because it will best please Reaction Junkie.
PS. Before anyone gets mad, the shirt is from A Softer World, and it’s making fun of people who act like that’s what feminism is about. Reaction Junkie has one, too, which results in some great interactions.
These are Reaction Junkie’s shoes.We have a protocol in place so that whenever we come home together I have to kneel down, take his shoes off, and wait for him to put my collar on and tell me I may stand. If I’m already there when he comes home, I have to go to the door, get on my knees, take his shoes off, and stay kneeling until he puts my collar on and allows me to get up. This protocol is an “us” thing, and it’s important to me, and to him.
On Monday night, Reaction Junkie got dinner with another partner, so I was home before him. I started cooking, and was getting into it. But when the front door opened and I heard Reaction Junkie’s voice, I stopped what I was doing and started towards him to kneel, take his shoes off, and have my collar put on. Then I heard another voice, his partner’s.
I stopped in my tracks and several emotions went through me. I didn’t have a problem with her being there, but he presence was entirely unexpected. I felt blindsided, unprepared for interacting with her. I like her, but she knows about my jealousy issues, some of them have been about her, and I always feel a bit uncomfortable around her, sometimes even anxious about how to behave. So, even though I had been excited to see Reaction Junkie, I was suddenly reluctant to follow our protocol.
I spun around and went back to the kitchen and kept prepping. They both came into the living room, and Reaction Junkie sat down. He took his shoes off with what sounded like a joking/off-hand comment, something like, “You can’t take them off, since that’s [LFB’s] job.” I was already feeling a bit put out because he hadn’t called me over to remove his shoes for him and to put my collar on me, so when he handed his shoes to his other partner, and said, “Put these by the door,” I started feeling upset. It didn’t help that her response was, “Yes, sir,” even if it was said somewhat jokingly.
I looked up and opened my mouth as if to say something, but instead I just glared at both of them. I didn’t feel great about the expression I knew was on my face, but I kind of didn’t care. I was upset and sad and frustrated and I felt let down and really hurt. He was having someone else take care of his shoes. Something that is supposed to be just between us. Something that is very important to me, and to our d/s dynamic. I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, so I focused very hard on the chopping I was doing in an attempt not to cry.
Then, as she walked towards the front door, he called after her, “Can you grab the collar hanging on the hook by the door?” I went cold for a second. That was the last straw. He didn’t follow our protocol and he was having someone else get my collar? Another partner, no less? I now felt angry. When she came back, Reaction Junkie took my collar from her and came over to me. I think he’d noticed something was up by this point, but if not, when I turned away from him and said, “No.” He tried again, and I repeated my refusal. I think part of me was hoping he would slap me or something, but instead he looked sad, kind of wounded, and he asked me, “Please let me put it on you?” I felt bad for a moment, but shook my head and returned to cooking.
His partner was there for a few more minutes, during which (and I feel bad about this), I stared at the counter and didn’t acknowledge either her or Reaction Junkie. Reaction Junkie walked her to the door and then came back to the kitchen. I said, “I’m glad you don’t care about our d/s dynamic,” or something to that effect, and started to cry. Reaction Junkie replied, “I do care. I care a lot,” sounding hurt and surprised, even a little upset.
I told him how I’d felt when he didn’t follow our protocol and then had his other partner take his shoes to the door. Like he didn’t care about our protocol or he wasn’t thinking about it or he wasn’t thinking about me. He hugged me and explained that it is important to him and he had been thinking about it. In fact, he’d put a lot of thought into it. That was why he didn’t have her take his shoes off, and even said that it was because that’s something only I do. He told me that he hadn’t done the rest of the protocol because I was cooking and he didn’t want to interrupt because sometimes I find that upsetting. Plus, he needed to go to the bathroom.
I listened and started feeling bad about how I’d reacted. I started apologizing and saying that I shouldn’t have reacted like that, that it shouldn’t matter so much, etc. He stopped me and told me that no, I didn’t need to apologize for my feelings, and that of course it’s important. He validated my feelings and said all the right things, which of course made me feel worse about how I’d behaved.
He continued reassuring me and made sure that I understood where he’d been coming from. I was still upset, but starting to feel better. Then Reaction Junkie picked up a bag of stuff to recycle and said, “I’m going to take this out,” looking at me meaningfully before adding, “And I’’m going to put my shoes back on.” I grinned at him and he gave me a kiss and left the apartment. I listened until I heard the front door open. I scampered over to Reaction Junkie, knelt at his feet and removed his shoes. He put my collar on me, reminded me that I’m his, and had me crawl back to the kitchen.
In the future, I’m going to do a better job of giving him the benefit of the doubt. He loves me and cares about me, so he wouldn’t intentionally do something like have someone else provide him a service that is just an us thing. He’s very smart, so I would do well to assume that he’s given thought to what he does, particularly in relation to things that are important to me. If I’m uncertain about something, instead of imagining the worst (that he doesn’t care about our dynamic), I should trust him enough to communicate my concerns, not shut down and turn away.
In addition to the relationshipy/love/partner type of reasons I should have behaved differently, there is also the fact that he owns me and I’ve submitted to him. He knows best, so if he deviates from our usual routine, I should trust that he has a reason. Additionally, I shouldn’t allow external factors stop me from doing my part. If I had remembered my place and the promise of my submission, I wouldn’t have stopped on my way to take his shoes off just because I was surprised by another person being with him. I shouldn’t feel shy or embarrassed about demonstrating my submission by following our protocol. I should feel proud and pleased with myself, happy to show off that submission and have others see the connection that Reaction Junkie and I have.
In the future, when I think that Reaction Junkie is showing that he doesn’t care about our dynamic, or does something else that I feel hurt by, I’m going to do things differently. I’m going to assume that he’s included me in his decision making. I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt, not jump right to the worst conclusions. I’m going to remember that he loves me and cares about my feelings. I’m going to communicate. I’m going to follow our protocols and rules and do as he says no matter how I feel or who else is around. I’m going to recognize that he knows best. I’m going to actively remind myself that I’ve submitted to him all the time, not just when I feel like it. I’m going to work hard to be a better partner and to live up to what I’ve written on this blog.
I really like the idea of being trained to react like this.
I already have a rule with Reaction Junkie that I lick the head of his cock after he pees, but it isn’t formalized. Most of the time I just do it by bending over while standing, and usually it’s just a half-hearted thing.
I’d love to have a more formal protocol. A rule that when I’m to lick his cock, I must be on my knees. Or, even better, to be trained to respond like this whenever he unzips his pants.
Outfit resulting from the instruction “Cats and socks,” which is the kind of clothing instruction my owner has taken to giving me. I love it.
My owner and I have started doing something new. As I’ve said, I’ve been having trouble getting into headspaces lately. Additionally, and more importantly, because of a few things, I’m having trouble trusting him and finding it hard to tell the difference between him being dommy and him being a mean jerk to me. So, for now, we aren’t doing our 24/7-esque dynamic. He is still my owner, and I will still be kneeling when we get home, but in the normal course of things he won’t be ordering me around or punishing me or acting dominant.
Instead, we’re going to work on rebuilding trust and practicing getting me in the right headspace. Each Sunday, starting yesterday, my owner will give me a topic to focus on such as “submission” or “being a puppy,” I will then spend at least ten minutes writing about that topic and focusing on really feeling the words and getting into that headspace. Then the rest of the evening will be spent in that mindset. The writing I do will form the basis for my DPAs for the week. Additionally, during the week when we have time we are going to spend together, before we get together, I will spend some time meditating on what I’ve written, reading it to myself almost as a mantra, and possibly writing more.
This week’s topic: The importance of following orders.
I need to do better with orders from my owner, both in terms of obeying them, and in terms of my attitude towards them.
The first reason, and the most basic reason, that it’s important to follow orders is the simple fact that he is my owner, my master, my sir. I have submitted to him, which means I’ve given him power and control over me. I’ve given myself over to him and promised him my obedience. When I don’t follow orders, I’m not living up to that promise. I am his possession, his slave, and an object for him to use. As such, I don’t have the right to refuse when given a command. I need to serve my purpose which is to obey and to please my owner.
While I haven’t been keeping up with these pictures as well as I should be, I have been very good about something else. In another DPA I decided to change my workplace pissing habits. Previously I didn’t have to ask Reaction Junkie for permission to pee while at work. Now I do. Each time I need to piss, I have to text him to ask, “May I please pee?”
For practicality’s sake, if he doesn’t respond to my text within half an hour, I’m allowed to go, but there’s still a challenge there. I don’t want to ask permission before I actually really do need to pee. That defeats the purpose. But I also need to ask early enough that if he doesn’t respond, I can wait the half hour. It’s a delightful balancing act that leaves me desperate, wiggling, shifting uncomfortably, and trying to distract myself so I can hold it for the next five, ten, or twenty minutes.
Sometimes he responds unexpectedly fast. In those cases, I try to finish however much water I have left in my huge one litre Camelbak and wait until the need to pee is more urgent before I get up and head to the bathroom, to sort of make up for the fact that I got permission earlier than absolutely necessary. When I told Reaction Junkie about that, he said, “Good girl,” and it made my pussy twitch. I’m not sure I’ve been doing it every single time he’s responded more quickly than I thought he would, but I’m certainly going to do so now.
Of course, he doesn’t always just say “Yes” when I ask if I may pee. As Reaction Junkie said to me, if he said yes every time, “it would become perfunctory." Sometimes he tells me "No,” but more often he tells me at what time I’m allowed to piss. Late last week, for example, I texted him at 12:11 asking for permission. A minute later he texted back, “1230, slut.” I gasped and moaned a little at my desk, even more turned on than usual by the addition of degradation and name calling to the bladder control and desperation.
Sometimes when he gives me a time at which I’m allowed to go, he also offers me an alternative, some task to perform or action to take. If I choose to do it (If he’s given me a choice. Once in a while it’s a condition of being allowed to pee, no other option.), I’m may piss as soon as I’ve done so. Occasionally it’s something terribly embarrassing, like asking my boss for permission to go to the bathroom. Once I had to do 25 squats while pressing on my bladder. More recently, he’s started using his control over my bladder to get me to do things he wants me to do or that I need to do, such as text a friend to set up a time to hang out, or send an email I’ve been putting off.
When he denies my request, makes me wait until later, calls me names, or makes me beg, my cunt clenches and my head buzzes a little with subspacey delight. Using his control over me to make me do things I’ve been procrastinating on or I’m hesitant to do in order to earn the right to piss is a perfect way for him to reinforce his orders. It helps me learn my place and teaches me to do as he says, even at other times, as I become conditioned to obey him.
I love that we’re doing this additional bladder control and desperation. As I go about my day, I’m mindful of the fact that I have to ask him if I may piss. Because of this, I have to actively think about my place in our relationship whenever I need to use the bathroom, whenever I drink my water, whenever I refill the bottle, whenever I go into a meeting. It’s a constant reminder that he has such ownership and control over me that even my most basic bodily functions are subject to his will. It’s impossible to forget that, even for a moment.
Reaction Junkie owns me, I have submitted to him, and I have given up power over myself to him. He has complete control over me everywhere, even at work. This was all true before, but now I am consciously aware of it throughout the entire workday.
“… And then you’ll bow your head down, mouth, nose and forehead touching the floor; palms too, by the side of your bowing head and maintain that position until I give you further instructions or until I leave the room… After all, it’s all about introducing and maintaining protocols that reflect our respective positions in life!”
Life can be cruel, thrusting you alone into something that you have no precedent for, no experience to draw from and nothing to guide you. You can't intrinsically deal with the realisation of your submission, because it’s not an intrinsic issue. You’re not submissive genetically, just as much as you’re not an extrovert genetically, or a bookworm. I’m sure genes play a part, but it’s just as much in the process as the ingredients. That’s what the amateur sociologist in me says, anyway.
So, naturally, you turn to those more knowledgeable than yourself. The Dominants, the kinksters, the submissives, the slaves, the masters, the lifers. Those who have been doing this for a long time, and turn up at the Munches looking like aging secret agents who haven’t quite given up on leather as a fashion statement yet. Shared glances under secretive eyes, inside jokes and welcoming arms. It’s a massive comfort. I get it.
But I want to throw in a conflicting philosophy for you, because if you do go to a Munch, or talk to people involved in D/s online, or even mention it in passing to someone who likes to tie people up, or being tied up, you’re going to, eventually, have someone tell you that there are rules and protocols and standard practice that you mustfollow.
I’m not talking about safety rules. Safe, sane and consensual is always applicable, and that’s the kind of tenet that you should have tattooed on your soul. Always in mind, never forgotten. That sort of thing is fucking essential, and if you throw that out of the window you’re being very stupid.
What I’m talking about are people trying to dictate your attitudes to your Dominant, or your Dominant’s attitudes towards you. Those who say that you have to have certain rules in place for it to even be considered a D/s relationship. I’m headed into the extreme of the example here, but you get the idea, I’m sure.
The problem is it’s a pretty comforting thing to have. It’s a framework that you can work with, something to fall back on if you ever find yourself lost in a scene, a safety net. It’s at this point that you furrow your brow and look at me with that adorable quizzical expression on your face, and you ask me something like:
“Well if it’s all those good things, why is it a problem?”
Good question, have a biscuit.
Pavlov had a dog. He’d feed it and ring a bell, every day for weeks. Then, after all this time of ringing and feeding, he stopped with the second half. Crazy thing was, the dog started salivating just because he’d heard that bell ringing. His brain had made such a strong link between the sensation of eating the food and hearing the bell that they were the same thing in its head.
I always felt incredibly sorry for that dog. Thought it was going to get some food, and all it got was some stupid bell. Pavlov was an arse.
Honestly, I don’t know if this is going to be as big an issue for them as it is for me, but I don’t want to be Pavlov’s dog. I don’t want to have someone else’s ideas, decided by them (or, more likely, the people before them, and before them, and before them, ad infinitum), making links in my head about the way I live my life. And D/s is such a big part of my life that to have someone else’s ideas about it dictating my behaviour is genuinely scary.
Far more importantly is that D/s is such an unfathomably broad umbrella of things that to be prescribed to anything without your explicit considered thought and decision is doing a disservice to yourself. Yes, you’re new and completely overwhelmed with the options and choices presented to you, but that’s not an excuse to blindly follow the first dogma placed in front of you.
You don’t have to call your Dominant ‘Sir’, or 'Master’, or anything. You can call him by his first name, his surname, or an invented name that you’ve come up with together, that means something to you. Just because something is accepted practice doesn’t mean it has to be your accepted practice.
Just because you’re in a D/s relationship it doesn’t mean you have to be in a sadomasochistic one. Just because you want to be owned doesn’t mean you have to be spanked, or tied up, or anything. I’m going to give this next sentence its own paragraph.
You do not have to do anything you do not want to do.
This is your fucking life, and your fucking relationship. Have it however you want it, so long as you’re both happy. Do the things you want to do, and leave the rest of them on the buffet for other people to enjoy. Mob rules are, by and large, the most ill-informed, idiotic rules that exist. So don’t go with the mob. Find an alleyway away from the crowd and start making out. You’ll have much more fun, I promise.
Build your own damn house. If you want to use bricks and support beams that other people give you, then that’s absolutely fine. Just think about it for a while, make sure that you really want those bits and pieces of other people’s lives become bits and pieces of yours. Because, if you leave it long enough, you’re going to have a hell of a time getting them out.
And you don’t want to be the dog salivating when the bell rings. Trust me.
I had a conversation with a cop last night about how they perceive BDSM practices and what you should do if the cops come calling at your door because a neighbor has complained about ‘Loud Noises’ coming from your home. Here is what he told me:
If a cop comes to your door from a noise complaint, and you are in the middle of a BDSM scene, the first thing you need to understand is what the cops are going to be looking for and what kind of action they may take on questioning you. Be HONEST with the cops, tell them that you are engaged in sexual activity and that it is consensual. Both partners should be talking directly to the cop, but if the cop notices the female looking towards her partner before answering questions, this would be taken as a red flag and a sign of potential abuse. So you must break all of your D/s expectations during this conversation. Some Dominants may have rules for their submissive about talking to other men, making eye contact with other men etc… But when dealing with the police at your door, these rules need to be suspended. You should acting like any other vanilla couple that are simply engaging in some kinky sexual practices.
The Cops will most likely separate both partners for questioning, asking what is going on, but paying special attention to the female partner, asking her questions such as; are you here against your will? Are you being hurt? Do you wish to leave? The female needs to make it clear that they are NOT being hurt and are simply taking part in adult sexual activity that IS consensual. They may also ask to come in and have a look around to satisfy themselves that all is well. So be prepared to discretely conceal any whips, floggers, knives etc before opening the door. Providing that the accounts of what is going on they get from both partners match, then the cops will most likely just ask you to keep the noise levels down and be out of your hair quickly. They have much more pressing issues to deal with than interrupting two consenting adults from enjoying themselves in the privacy of their own home.
When I asked the Cop about what would happen if the couple were participating in edge play such as blood play, and the female was bleeding from an inflicted wound, then his answer was loud and clear. The person that inflicted the wound, whether inflicted consensually or not, would be going to jail that night. The law makes no allowances for consensually allowing yourself to be cut, beaten, whipped, flogged etc. The cop gave me this example… If I was called to a fight outside a bar, and a guy was getting beat on by another, but he tried to tell me that they were ‘ALLOWING’ the other to hit them for some reason, it would make no difference to my interpretation of the law. One was being beaten by the other which is against the law. Whether consent was present or not, the aggressor would be locked up.
In this context, we as BDSM practitioners must be very aware of what we do even in the privacy of our own homes. Understand that there can & will be consequences if the Cops see cuts or bruises on one of the partners during questioning. Talk about it together as a couple, take precautions to ensure that neighbors are not given cause to get involved and call the cops for unusual noises.
“When the Levee Breaks: A guide to dealing with and avoiding arrest and prosecution in BDSM scenes.“
“When the Levee Breaks” is a companion to the NCSF publication, “The Aftermath,” and is a guide to provide a perspective for those who have, through mistake, misunderstanding, or a fleeting lapse of reason, committed an act of criminally actionable sexual assault. It is not intended to provide a defense for indefensible acts.“When the Levee Breaks” also provides information on how to better protect oneself against arrest and prosecution.”
October is Kink Awareness Month. It’s a great time to spread awareness of kink and how to do it safely.
In that spirit I thought this was a piece to share. Kink by it’s very nature exists at the fringe of society. It is misunderstood, and when the uninitiated, or uniformed catch a glimpse of our fun and games, whatever they may be, chances are strong that the authorities will get involved. So if you’re going to be playing then you owe it to yourself and your partner to be prepared for when that happens.
