- Kinky Girl brings the BDSM Bookapalooza!
- Making Over Maris—A Funny, Scorching FemDom from Sabrina York
- Annie Nicholas and Open Relationships
- Sidney Bristol–What is this BDSM thing?
- Giveaway Alert with Carrie Ann Ryan!
- Zenobia Renquist and BDSM
- Giveaway Alert with Gia Dawn and Taste of Winter
- Elise Logan dishes about Tentacle Fetishes
- Kayla Lords: The Adventures of Sir and Babygirl
- Kayla Lords: What Being a Babygirl Means to Me
- Giveaway Alert! Sidney Bristol and Bound with Pearls
- Serena Biggs: Spouses who share
- Giveaway Alert: Roni Loren and Need You Tonight
- Keira Kohl: A swinging apartment complex
- A. Catherine Noon and Rachel Wilder: Realism
- A. Catherine Noon and Rachel Wilder: In the Lifestyle
- Delphine Dryden: Feels Like the Last Time
- Lea Griffith: The Things We Think We See
- Eden Bradley~A Kinky Writer Talks BDSM and Books!
- Shelley Munro, spanking and The Bottom Line
- Stacey Kennedy: What do you wear when you’re sizzling hot?
- Joey W. Hill: BDSM : For the body AND soul by Joey W. Hill
- Giveaway Alert: Holly Trent and O For Two
- JB Brooks: The Ins and Outs of Pervertables
- Lex Valentine: My Road to Writing BDSM
- Giveaway Alert: Elle Wylder and Saving Grace
- Liv Honeywell: Tease and Denial
- Tina Donahue: The delicate balance of pleasure.
- Cari Quinn: No Romance Required
- Roz Lee: I never meant to write kink…
- Rayne Millaray: being a 24/7 owned pleasure slave
- Giveaway Alert: Portia Da Costa and Delicious Pain
- Jennifer Kacey: A rope girl learning whips.
- Jodie Griffin: The Lighter Side of Kink
- Jennah Scott: Exploring BDSM
- Sadie Haller: Kink is music to my ears.
- Tilly Greene: Ups and Downs of Trying Something New
- Stories from the BDSM Life: Chevrolet
- #BDSMBookapalooza and Kinky Girl have come to an end.
Giveaway Alert! Elise Logan has a contest going for a copy of her back list, I’m giving away a copy of Bound with Pearls, Roni Loren is giving away a signed copy of her book, Need You Tonight, Keira Kohl has a giveaway from yesterday AND you can win a prize from Noon and Wilder from their first post yesterday.
In the hot seat this afternoon is a lady who has become very dear to my heart. We “met” on twitter, and I’m pretty sure I was far more creepy-stalkerish than she realizes, but we got to meet earlier this year and I totally adore Delphine Dryden. She’s writing today from the point-of-view as someone in the BDSM community.
Sounds like the title of a smutty romance, I know. Maybe one with a professor Dom, even! Right up my alley. Sadly, sometimes we have to learn patience not as part of a delightfully hot narrative, but because we simply don’t have any other options.
I’m a submissive, and right now I don’t have a regular partner. Not for playtime, not for sexy playtime. Not even for vanilla sexytime, should I want such a thing (though that, I could have if I chose to…but I’ve recently decided I’m pretty much no longer looking among the vanilla folk for partners, like ever again).
I do hook up with a delightful dominant sadist a few times a year, and have other occasional frolics. But for the most part, for going on two years now (since I split with my ex-husband), I’ve been going it alone. So I’ve been learning a lot about how I’m affected by long, long stretches of time with no sex and no subspace.
It might not surprise any of the other submissives out there to hear that while I miss the sex, what I really miss is the subspace. Because you can accomplish orgasms solo, no problem (hello, Hitachi baby. I see you over in that drawer. You and me, Hitachi, you and me forever). You can find things to cuddle. Might not be quite as satisfying as naked sexy cuddle times, but there are platonic hugs to be had in the world. There are big, friendly dogs to snuggle with while watching teevee. There are ways to fake it.
But there is no good way that I’ve found to fake having somebody spank/beat/flog/whip/bite/zap my (preferably restrained) person into subspace. And definitely no way to approximate the feeling of that, plus subsequent aftercare.
Self-denial is not my kink, so there’s no way I’d have ever set out to pick this as a lifestyle. And I hope it doesn’t last forever. Probably it won’t. But in the meantime, it’s been really informative. I’ve learned, for instance, that getting a tattoo puts me in something a lot like the right headspace. If I could afford it, I’d have so many tattoos right now, y’all (It’s been awhile, too. Like, I might need to do a Kickstarter for more ink, or something). I’ve learned that the whole, “it will only be better for the buildup” trope is only true to a degree. Past a certain point, for me, anxiety and overthinking interfere with that, leeching away some of the enjoyment when the event finally comes to pass. I do better with organic, spontaneous encounters than stuff I’ve had too much time to think about. Possibly because I’m not particularly patient, and my inherent impatience gets toxic after awhile.
I’ve learned, most of all, to truly appreciate the times I do get to have with the occasional partner, and also that it’s up to me to make the most of those times. To go ahead and ask for things. To go ahead and say no to things. To use that time to get what I need out of it, because it might be my only chance for a loooooong time. It’s hard sometimes. I’m not perfect at it. It’s not my nature to be demanding in that particular way. But I think it’s worth it.
And I think that’s my real takeaway from this time of forced patience. That those rare encounters aren’t extraordinary because they’re rare or I had to wait…but because for the first time in my life I’m actually communicating with something like my whole heart about my own desires, needs, preferences when it comes to scenes (and sex). I should’ve always been brave enough to speak up. To be honest with myself, with my partner about what I needed. To encourage them to be every bit as honest, because helping them get what they need out of a scene is one of my kinks. To treat every occasion as something to make the most of, as if it might be the last for a really long time. As if it might be the last.
The bruises have faded, but I have a kickass set of memories from the last time. Memories that are so good, in part, because I spoke up and said, “Yes. That. I want to. I don’t want to. Please let me. Don’t let me. Don’t make me. Make me, please.” Memories that I’m learning really are good enough to be enough, for now. Enough to sustain me until the next time.
Do you have a thing you’re afraid to ask for? A thing you’re too anxious to decline? If it felt like it was going to be the last time…would you speak up?
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