Sunday, January 27, 2013

Five Love Languages

Until fairly recently, I had never heard of the Five Love Languages. Someone mentioned it to me a few months ago when we were talking about our love of service and she said that service was her primary love language. I, of course, was curious and Googled it. A light went off in my head, sort of like I'd been handed a key to something that unlocked a door I'd never seen before. I found it very interesting and compelling, but never got around to buying the book or looking more deeply into it. Fortunately for me, there is an online quiz!

Learning about this concept, it really made a lot of sense, even if I wasn't sure where I fell in the scheme of things. There are just very clear disconnects sometimes in relationships where it's almost like a lack of communication, in regards to needs. I have historically found it difficult to quantify what this disconnect is, why the pieces don't fit well, but what I realize now, with this concept, is that we simply were speaking different languages. It makes so much sense now, why one relationship would flow better and make me feel happier, more appreciated, and more secure -- thinking about it, those are the people who speak my language.

When I first got my scores, I was a bit incredulous.. I didn't at all expect the result and had predicted differently. I was at first resistant because I don't necessarily like to think of myself as someone who requires a lot of praise or compliments, but as I continue to think about it, about the happiest and most satisfying relationships I've had, I realize that they were with highly verbal and communicative people, and that this all is pretty darn accurate.

So, while I'm still a bit surprised by the result, it makes so much sense. Words and language are like air to me; very important and I love just about everything related, vocabulary and all the nuances, how the words people use are uniquely suited to them. So, it makes perfect sense that I thrive on affirmation and praise. One "good girl" and I'm flying high for the rest of the day.

8 - Words of Affirmation
7 - Acts of Service
6 - Quality Time
5 - Receiving Gifts
4 - Physical Touch

Words of Affirmation
Actions don’t always speak louder than words. If this is your love language, unsolicited compliments mean the world to you. Hearing the words, “I love you,” are important—hearing the reasons behind that love sends your spirits skyward. Insults can leave you shattered and are not easily forgotten.

Acts of Service
Can vacuuming the floors really be an expression of love? Absolutely! Anything you do to ease the burden of responsibilities weighing on an “Acts of Service” person will speak volumes. The words he or she most want to hear: “Let me do that for you.” Laziness, broken commitments, and making more work for them tell speakers of this language their feelings don’t matter.

Quality Time
In the vernacular of Quality Time, nothing says, “I love you,” like full, undivided attention. Being there for this type of person is critical, but really being there—with the TV off, fork and knife down, and all chores and tasks on standby—makes your significant other feel truly special and loved. Distractions, postponed dates, or the failure to listen can be especially hurtful.

Receiving Gifts
Don’t mistake this love language for materialism; the receiver of gifts thrives on the love, thoughtfulness, and effort behind the gift. If you speak this language, the perfect gift or gesture shows that you are known, you are cared for, and you are prized above whatever was sacrificed to bring the gift to you. A missed birthday, anniversary, or a hasty, thoughtless gift would be disastrous—so would the absence of everyday gestures.

Physical Touch
A person whose primary language is Physical Touch is, not surprisingly, very touchy. Hugs, pats on the back, and thoughtful touches on the arm—they can all be ways to show excitement, concern, care, and love. Physical presence and accessibility are crucial, while neglect or abuse can be unforgivable and destructive.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013


Her body was a constant temptation. What I would have given to be able to feel those luscious curves under my hands! I tried not to be overt about it, but I was intensely aware of her body any time she was near. In a group setting, people would be chatting and I would find myself slowly losing all notice of anything beside her hands, her lips, how beautiful her features were. I'd enter my own world of reverie, vividly imagining inappropriate things like the feel of her lips parting under mine. Oh, those lips, so plump and ripe for kissing; I made secret wishes to the universe that some day, just once, I would be lucky enough to know exactly how it felt.

Her hands caught my attention frequently. I would sit and watch her hands and think in wonder that so much pleasure and pain came from those hands, the source of so many wonderful things. I sometimes would get a flash of memory, her hand grabbing a part of my body, long manicured nails digging hard into my flesh, and my body would respond with a sharp pang of arousal, causing me to gasp for breath. And oh, those nails, which she gleefully raked over my body, hard enough to leave marks for days, and occasionally piercing my skin. I loved it all. I loved the sensation in the moment, I loved her delight, and I loved the intimacy of the markings coming by her hands.

What I would have given, to be able to give back an equal amount of pleasure. I wanted to worship her,  and to hear her moan in pleasure as a result of my ministrations would have been exquisite.

Sunday, January 20, 2013


Often, when I'm getting a beating, I don't know exactly what my Domme is using on me because I'm blindfolded or facing the wrong direction, heh. There seems to be a disconnect between the way something looks and feels in my hand, even if it's one of my own and I have used it on others, and the way it feels when wielded against me.

I completely mis-guessed several implements that were used on me during my last playdate, including ones that I brought, myself. Interestingly, there were times when my physical response changed once I knew what the toy was; I found it easier to take when I knew what to expect. Of course, it worked the other way, too, and knowing she had something intimidating in her hand made me whimper and brace in anticipation.

I was smacked with a lot of interesting things over the course of an hour and a half... straps, canes, tawses, floggers, a cat-o-nine-tails, a long plastic shoe horn, a cake slicer, a paddle made of a boot sole, a heavy metal abalone opener, a plastic-coated wire cable carpet beater... between us, we have a very fun collection. :)

Friday, January 18, 2013


I met a new Domme recently and we had our first playdate a couple of nights ago, which was my first heavy beating in about nine months. It went well and was a lot of fun, but I was very surprised at how much of my tolerance I've lost! I couldn't take nearly as much as I used to be able to, and frankly felt like kind of a wuss at times, but I consoled myself in the fact that she's only had non-masochistic sensory play partners lately, so I'm sure I'm in a different league, in comparison. A notable and tangible testament to my regained sensitivity is the fact that my ass is bruised and marked up, something that was a woefully rare occurrence in my past experiences.

It's so funny, because ordinarily, when playing with someone new, I find people go "too easy" on me; like if I want to be at a 6 on the pain scale, they're at a 3 or 4. It still feels good and is completely understandable (as in, I would be wary of an incautious Domme wanting things to get heavy really quick), but it's a bit disappointing in a way because, ultimately, I crave more.

I'm not sure if it was because she was going at me hard, but it was tough sometimes; she doesn't have loads of experience, so it's unclear to me how much of the difficulty was because I'm more sensitive, as opposed to her not realizing how hard she was hitting me. I had to explain to her that canes are vicious and that it doesn't take much force to make it painful, for example, and she seemed a bit surprised. So, there will be a learning curve, but she is very warm and kind, as well as powerful, so it will be a fun exploration.

Monday, January 14, 2013


I need someone powerful and strong, who will challenge me. I have a big personality and a sharp mind, and I need someone who can be one step ahead of me, to keep me in check. A guiding influence, who will encourage and help steer me in the right direction. Someone who can engage my mind and can inspire me.

Someone I want to impress. To look up to. Whose opinion means the most to me. To blossom and flourish, I need to be seen, understood, and accepted.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Introduction to Pain

When I first started playing regularly, it was all new and I didn't know how to frame these new experiences. Ultimately, it was fine and I just rolled with it, but I am an unusually adaptable person and I often can suspend my doubts for the cause of adventure.

It felt weird, in a way, to be beaten without any 'cause', for example.. her hitting me with things just because we both enjoyed it caused some dissonance. It felt a bit off because I felt there should be a reason, or a punishment, or some sort of device that would make it feel less like what it was at its most basic. This sounds weird to me to admit now, but I had all these ideas and preconceptions when I was starting out, and no inkling then of who I would develop into as a submissive, or what I would come to like.

I'm definitely a masochist and I love powerful Tops that are into heavy play. The honest truth, though, is that I don't always love the pain in the moment. There are times when my partner is being exceptionally cruel and sadistic, bringing levels of pain which I can only endure, not enjoy. Sometimes it hurts so much that my primal, reactive emotional response is anger, like I'm pissed that someone is doing these things to me, even though I remind myself that I'm there because I like it, and that I'm fortunate to have a partner who enjoys it, too.

In the difficult moments, it's not about how I feel right then, but how I feel later, once it's over and I'm able to process everything. The most interesting thing happens: often the things that were most difficult at the time turn into the hottest parts of a session, when it comes to remembering. It reminds me of my submission, my surrender, my handing over my body for someone else's enjoyment. The marks surface and I enjoy those, too, as visible souvenirs of kinky fun, a little bit of ownership, and knowing I have something to show for my suffering is mentally satisfying.

I guess my point here, if I have one at all (hard to tell), is that it's okay to be timid and to take things slowly, but remain open to new experiences because you never know how you might surprise yourself. Once I dove into kink full-time during my service year, I watched limit after limit busted down, found myself interested and turned on by things I had previously rejected or thought I could never be interested in. The key is to go as slowly as you need and to find patient and caring partners willing to explore and experiment.

There's a lid to every pot and nearly everyone can find play partners who want to play like they do. I, myself, have met and played with some amazingly warm and caring Doms that were naturally patient and kind, and who handled me delicately and with respect. Novice subs, I hope that you find one of these, who sees the potential in you and who will gently coax out what you know is inside.

Thursday, January 10, 2013


Whether one does or does not practice punishment as part of their D/s dynamic, it's true that punishment needs to be more creative when dealing with a masochist. I am in the punishment camp, myself, both for recreational and for constructive purposes.

I deeply enjoy the structure and guidance of a firm Dominant hand in my life. I'm good at getting shit done in most aspects of my life, but I often need guidance and the occasional ass-kick, particularly where my personal life is concerned. I do so much better with that dynamic in place, with someone to keep an eye on me and to help keep me on the right track. There's something about this control that is different, and welcomed, when it comes from a Dominant than when it comes from, say, my mom or my boss. The D/s dynamic mellows me and having someone I really want to please inspires me.

Because of this, I do believe that punishment can definitely have its place in a D/s relationship, if it's something that works for those involved. By 'punishment', I mean legitimate punishment for behavior modification purposes, although "funishment" (play punishment for fun) is a really hot thing, too. I'm not alone in liking both kinds; lots of subs and Doms enjoy it for the reasons I listed and more, I'm sure!

The question of punishment methods becomes more challenging when you are dealing with people who enjoy and look forward to being whacked with things. Many Dominants are aware of this and choose silence and lack of attention instead, as these tend to be the things submissives hate and dread the most. With Mistress, I never did earn any punishments (I'm pretty well-behaved); however, the threatened big consequence, should I ever, was having a playdate taken away. She knew that that was the thing that would hurt the most and that I would avoid such a heavy consequence.

Even though she didn't view it as 'real' punishment to beat me for infractions, because I enjoy being beaten, we started up a running list of beatable offenses. It was first kind of a mental tally, started when I was trying to be thoughtful by moving her car on a street cleaning day, but then completely forgot to tell her where I'd moved it, or even that I'd moved it at all. Cue my Mistress, wondering if her car had been stolen, and then having to wander around the block until she found it at last. Amazingly, she was not angry, actually was pretty easy-going about it, but I was mortified. I felt like such a bad, derpy sub.

So, as we were chatting one day not long after, the car-moving incident came up. I apologized again, blushing at my scatterbrainedness. It just felt like such a massive sub fail, you know? My Mistress thought her car was stolen and had to walk around the block to find it... aaargh!!  Anyway, I told her, quite seriously, that I deserved to be beaten for it. I really wanted to be beaten for it, and not in a "Ooooo, I've been bad, I need to be punished, hee hee" kind of way, either, but I felt like I wanted some sort of physical atonement as closure.

She found it amusing to hold the list over my head, so as the months went by, things were added to the list periodically. There were a few things on the list that I felt very deeply sorry for and I actually looked forward to the list being addressed so that I could release the guilt and shame associated with my mistakes.

When she had me bring her the list in our final session, had me over her knee, it felt completely different than any of our other play beatings. My headspace was different, my emotions were different. There was humiliation, shame, relief. I found the whole thing incredibly cathartic and, as I suspected, the punishment, even as a ritual, was extremely successful in allowing me to release a bunch of emotions. Mentally, I felt lighter and better afterward.

I feel like I've had only a taste, though.. I am looking forward to exploring both sides of punishment more, though hopefully weighted toward more of the fun variety! I am ridiculously turned on by being lectured and chided, mmmm mmmm mmm.

Tuesday, January 08, 2013

Variation On the Word Sleep

by Margaret Atwood

I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head

and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear

I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center. I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside me, and you enter
it as easily as breathing in

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.

Sunday, January 06, 2013

Poly Ponderings

Before last year, polyamory was a subject of fascination, but not something I at all expected to fall into. I knew a couple of sets of people over the years who were practicing poly relationships and I found it both interesting and hot, but I suspected that it might not be a good fit for me. As a Scorpio, I have a definite jealous streak and had never much wanted to share the object of my affection. However, when I thought about it, I could see, given the perfect set of circumstances, how it could work for me... but being the reasonable person that I am, I thought it unlikely that I would ever find these mythical perfect circumstances.

Then I met Mistress (who I really need to re-name here now that it's over, but I am terrible at clever pseudonyms), who was married. I found myself so infatuated with everything, the newness of the kink and the dynamic, the fact that such an amazing and beautiful creature wanted anything to do with me, that her being married didn't matter. I didn't quite understand everything at the time, as it was all terribly new, but I thought her husband a lucky, lucky man and was grateful that she had the freedom to explore things with me.

It turned out that we were, all three, a great fit for each other. One of those beautiful chances of fate, where you meet and connect with people with whom you have so much in common. It was really lovely and it wasn't long before we began to feel like a family.

Last year, for sure, was the Year of Poly for me. Poly is great, don't get me wrong, but I feel a bit frustrated that I am now stuck on the poly track, in the secondary position. My frustration comes from feeling disposable, as well as the fact that I cannot figure out why I keep attracting these women that I can't really have.

For the most part, while we're dating, these women have made me feel cared for and special. I enjoyed these relationships quite a bit, in fact, and I have come to find that these kinds of relationships can work for me. It makes sense, as I have always been very good at (and have much enjoyed) friends-with-benefits situations. I am, however, getting very tired of being dropped like a hot potato when something arises in their lives, some difficulty, some stress, something that requires full attention.

Four breakups last year, four poly relationships where I was the secondary. You do the math. It blows.

Two of these were very abrupt, in that I was pretty much dropped without much fanfare and the person barely or doesn't speak to me, another a bit less so, but still unexpected and sudden. It's the reality of being someone's secondary, where one is essentially welcomed into someone else's life (as opposed to the merging of both lives in a primary), but it feels as if my feelings are inconsequential in the grand scheme of their lives, as if their world is more important than whatever shitty bag of feelings I'm left holding as they walk away.

I'm getting tired of being everyone's secondary. I want to be someone's primary for a fucking change! I want someone I can actually have. It's been... jesus.. 3 and a half years since I last had a "real" relationship. All I want is someone to love and to be loved in return. I miss having a partner, someone to snuggle with in bed, someone to whom I am the most important person. Someone who is committed to me and our relationship, with stability, and who will not drop me because other things are happening in their life. I want to be part of the support system and the person they turn to for solace.

I'm a good person, a thoughtful partner, and I have a lot to offer. I'm always working on myself. And waiting... perhaps 2013 will be the year of the primary. :)

Saturday, January 05, 2013


A numbness rushes over me and the world slowly fades out. A pang-like sinking in my stomach, sending ice coursing through my veins. My cheeks get hot and I find it hard to breathe. My mind races, flailing in every direction, ricocheting off the inside of my skull. I tremble and rage. My heart in a vise, I nurse the gut-punch ache in my belly.

Wednesday, January 02, 2013


Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands; how did your lips feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks, the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten your eyes.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of you. I live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you will do me irreparable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.
Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting stars, falling objects.

-- Pablo Neruda