Tag: femdom

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Submissively paradoxical

Dev left this comment on my last post:

I wouldn’t judge your “submissiveness” by things like that. That way lies madness as you just get into the whole submissive paradox.

Submissive paradox. Huh. What’s that? I coulda said, “What’s that?” but chose instead to say something like, “Gee, thanks for the comment!” What a dork.

This whole “submissive paradox” thing was bumping around in my head. I was working on defining it because that’s what I do. Instead of asking what something I fail to understand means, I try to work it out based on what I think I know. It’s quite the personality flaw. I assume if someone else knows something, then I should also and to appear otherwise looks bad. Please, if we should ever meet in person, pretend like I know everything. Thanks.

So anyway, I had formed the outlines of a missive when, at the very moment of sitting down to write it, I thought to Google “submissive paradox“. Boom. There it was. I’m a genius. In any event, here’s the basic premise I worked out all on my lonesome.

I’m supposed to be submissive, but I’m proactively doing things in my relationship (or angling to have things done in my relationship) because I like them. It’s not entirely about her. Turns out, I, the supposedly submissive one, has free will, is still a human, and still wants to be pleased sexually. Oh, and folding the laundry doesn’t do anything for me. Check.

I, the supposedly submissive one, am coming up with the ideas, buying the sex toys, and pushing to be whipped and otherwise damaged by her, the ostensibly dominate one. Belle, however, never asked to dominate me. That was all my idea. The fact that she does it at all is terrific, but what does she know from being a dominate? She’s not bad, considering it’s all being done for me. She’s coming along nicely. But I think I’m digressing…

The paradox, as far as I can see it, is that as a male with submissive tendencies, I still do what I can to move our relationship in a direction I want. I don’t let her totally run the show, and honestly, she wouldn’t want to anyway. If some day she does, then great. But if not, it’s no big deal. I, the submissive one, am exerting some level of direction on my nascent D/s relationship.

I’ll leave it with this, quoted from Under the Boot. I think it nicely summarizes the paradox and makes me feel better to see others in the same place we are:

Sustainability. That’s what we’re working toward. Maybe someday…I’ll lose the right to request or recommend or comment, but right now, that give and take is probably one reason why this is working well for us. And when I think about how good things are, I stop worrying overly much about not being a real submissive…

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D looking for T: An addendum

Interestingly, since I wrote D looking for T last night, there are new posts on two blogs I follow which, to be honest, make me look a little shallow.

Over on Devastating Yet Inconsequential, there’s this short missive on keeping a clean kitchen. I suppose if Belle made such service sexual, I’d find it that way. Hell, she could condition me to get aroused at the sound of Larry King’s voice if she stroked me during his show (*shudder*). It’s not that I don’t want to service her in this way, it’s just that I need some sexual attention now and again to keep my mood up.

Meanwhile, Axe posts about massage as service. This is something I can totally associate with. I love giving her body service and don’t need her to “pay” me with sexual attention afterwards. I love touching her and giving her pleasure, whether it’s to bring her to orgasm or just to make her happy. It can be as small as brushing her hair or just stroking her forehead before she goes to sleep. Problem is I offer massage of her back or feet or her entire body a lot more often than she lets me give it to her. I think she thinks it’s going to lead to me rubbing my boner on her, and, again being honest with myself, it often does.

Maybe I’m not such a good submissive, after all. Maybe it is too much about me and my gratification. Maybe she should be firmer with me. Dominating me is not second nature for her – we both know that. Perhaps being submissive isn’t second nature for me, either. Do I just want to be submissive to her or am I really submissive?

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D looking for T

Belle let me fuck her tonight and, even though I was not given permission to come, it was quite the relief. It’s only been four days since my last orgasm, but it was four days locked in the CB6K during a particularly nasty menstrual cycle which left Belle not only disinterested in letting me give her any kind of physical pleasure but her very much disinclined to give me much, either. I do like denial, but I find it has to be balanced with a certain measure of teasing. Denial without teasing is just sad. Kind of like a pony without a saddle.

When I first started learning all I could about all the various ways men get denied by their women, I read a lot of femdom blogs and sites. There are many guys out there who seem to be very happy doing little else than housework for their women (while locked in chastity, of course). I mean, they get off on it. I do understand where that comes from because I’m there with them, to a point. However, for me, the service bit cannot be the only form of submission. I need her loving touch and attention, too. It builds a feedback loop where she arouses me but denies release which makes me more interested in helping with the little things which, in turn (I hope), gives her reason to arouse me again which, conversely, causes me to want to do more and more for her. Eventually, it all spirals into a cosmic orgasm and starts to build all over again.

I admit to not really understanding how all this works in my head. I want to make her happy all the time, even on those days I get to come. But, as the days tick by and I get farther and farther away from coming, the need to please her builds. I want to constantly kiss her and tell her she’s beautiful and pick up both the kids for her and start the laundry and cook the food and whatever the fuck else I think she needs because…because…well, just because. I don’t know. Are men really that simple minded? Are we such simple beasts, so easily conditioned into submission? Um, yeah, maybe. I seem to be, at least.

But only to a point. If I’m not getting attention from her in bed, I start to lose my focus and feel sad and neglected. It happened early on when she and I were apart and the affects of the orgasm denial was particularly acute. I need the semi-regular feedback from her to keep all the hormones surging in the same direction. Without it, they start to meander about and bump into one another like drivers in a Beijing traffic circle. Maybe my neediness is a phase. Maybe, with time, I’ll be like other guys who share my perversion and will be satisfied with folding the laundry and mopping the floors at her command. We’ll see.

But tonight I got to fuck. And it was awesome. Four days with little sexual contact and no opportunity to pleasure her climaxed as it has before with me on top trying like hell not to come while simultaneously giving her as much pleasurable stimulation as possible. Playing the part of the big meat fucking machine, solely focused on her pleasure, is quickly becoming my favorite way to be naked with her. When she really gets into it and seems to stop trying to give me any kind of feedback or pleasure – when it’s all about her and her approaching orgasm – that’s when I’m happiest. I really, really like being her tool. I relish the internal struggle within myself right at the moment of her climax when I feel the reptilian urge to continue fucking her only for my pleasure but knowing I cannot. That I will be left ultimately dissatisfied. Tonight, my internal lizard was left ravenously hungry as I was still sporting a pretty good hard-on long after Belle was asleep. Even now, I’m left typing this – exhausted yet unable to calm the buzzing in my head so I can sleep. The lizard will not rest.