It’s 2:30 in the morning and I can’t sleep. Thoughts are swimming in my head about all the things we’ve done and tried and looked at and explored, and more and more it’s becoming clear what I don’t want. I have no idea how to classify myself in fetish identity terms, or how to label my “lifestyle” but I know what I am not. I am not a masochist. Yes, I enjoy nipple clamps.Yes I enjoy a good spanking now and then. And I can even cum when being smacked in the face and called a whore in the middle of sex.
But today I saw pictures on a fetish community site and thought of scenarios that seem to define a masochist and I was only turned off. Mutilated flesh. Bruised breasts. Stretched and torn pussies. Asses that were bleeding from their beatings. The women looked so haggard and depressed and were obviously not big on self-image. They all looked like misery to me.
Is it so superficial of me to think that a pet or slave should be a prized possession? That they should be required to take care of their bodies like any other trophy or esteemed item belonging to their Master? Is it wrong that I am only attracted to those who have pride in being a sub, not just a girl who can take a beating?
I’m beginning to see the line between Dom/sub and BDSM and finding that I am most DEFINITELY a sub, and most DEFINITELY a swinger, but that BDSM is only a part-time beginner’s interest. Mostly the BD and not the SM even. I’m afraid of talking too much to my Master about it because I know he enjoys everything we are doing and seems to only want to push to the next level and I hate, I HATE making him feel like he has to hold back in any way. But at the same time, I fight so much fear and pain and stress when paddling is just for the sake of the paddle, or when biting feels like it’s breaking skin.
My vision of the perfect life is that not too long from now, my Master will not have to lift a hand or his voice to get anything he wants. That I will be able to anticipate his every need and serve him completely. That he and I will enjoy all of life’s little treats together with me at his every beck and call. That each day will be defined by his orders and routine (and I feel about half way there so far) and that he should never have to hunger for more than the time it takes to tell me what he is hungry for.
I believe I can do this without cuts or bruises or being made to feel like nothing like so many others do.
