I had an interesting comment the other day on my blog:
‘bdsm is for simps’
Now I’m guessing that the anonymous soul was saying that people who are into bdsm are simpletons (I’m not 100% sure though because, you know, the young folk and their vernacular these days…lol….) but actually the comment didn’t bother me in the slightest. I’m rather quite proud to say that I am a ‘simp’ who likes things nice and simple. Nothing is better for me than to have just one answer and one direction. While having options x, y and z is occasionally comforting, it’s so much nicer to have an order for ‘bdsm’ and that is what you serve up. There is no need to weigh up the pros and cons of x, y or z because bdsm is the only thing on the menu. I find that bdsm takes away all the complicated bullshit of life and breaks it down into a common denominator that I can cope with – Master and I.
I am a simp who can’t multi-task. I can’t be pulled in several different directions all at once and still be required to carry out each role equally as well. Seeing that my personality quiz results show that I am conscientious but neurotic kitten (Gotta get the string, gotta get the string, but what if I pull it and something falls on me?) I get super stressed when I can’t do every role I’m given to perfection. Thus came the decision for me not to work, but to stay home and concentrate on my slavery. I knew that my slavery would suffer if I was out there working 9-5 and I didn’t want it to be something that got pushed aside in the crush of other things. As Master says, ‘You’re not fit to be anything but a slave.’
I don’t see Master’s frequent observation that I am ‘not fit to be anything but a slave’ as negative in the slightest. He knows what I am, I know what I am, there’s no point denying the fact that I am a slave and slavery is what I do. Being what I am keeps things nice and simple for this simp.
Once upon a time I believed that you had to beowned in order to call yourself a slave. By my previous way of thinking you were a sub or a dom until you were owner and property and then you became Master and slave. But now I’m thinking that if you’re a slave, you’re always a slave- owned or not. I think if the seed of slavery is planted within yourself at any time, there’s nothing you can do to stop it taking root. It might die back from time to time or be choked by weeds, but it’s always there.
My subby friend who abandoned me for Japan about a month ago told me the other night when we were chatting that she had deleted her blog. She was worried about someone finding ‘inappropriate material’ about her on the web and so had chosen to delete it. After I assured her that no-one would recognize her and she had thought about it some more, she decided to reinstate it. The minute she clicked to activate it again, she said she felt relieved. I said that that was a side of her that wasn’t likely to go away. The seed has been planted and now it won’t go away.
Perhaps ‘slave sans owner’ and ‘Master sans property’ would be good titles for those folk who have yet to make a property transaction.