When a new year begins people always want to shake things up – quit crappy jobs, get new jobs, start diet and exercise regimes and in the case of D/s relationships, lots of people make noises about going back to basics, to a ‘beat me, I’m your bitch’ regime. These ‘BMB’ regimes are characterised by a general lack of concern for what the non-dominant member of the relationship wants and tend to involve ‘put up and shut up’ activities in which the domly one puts the non-domly one back into their place.
I would say that most D/s relationships start out on some level of BMB-ness. I distinctly remember being peed on and driven around town, filthy and naked on a leash in the beginning of my first relationship and then being ball-gagged and bound with my hands behind my back for an entire night in the first week of my second relationship. We all start out hard and fast, but then as the months go by you settle into a haze of some norti stuff every now and then, and instead a relationship starts to form with all its associated emotions and baggage, because that is naturally what happens when two people spend their lives together.
I think a lot of the problem is that we call it a D/s relationship, when actually all we want is the D/s. Its when the relationship forms that we start getting into trouble.
I’ve lost count of the number of subbies (myself included) who say/whine/lament that as the time spent with their Master gets longer, their level of of BMB-ness gets lighter.
‘He doesn’t beat me anymore!’
‘He doesn’t give me orders or instructions anymore!’
‘He worries too much about what I want!’
All of these laments seem to suggest, not a lack of interest, but in fact too much interest on the part of the domly one regarding the welfare of the subbie one. I’ve even heard my fair share of excuses spring from the mouths of the domly ones when presented with these accusations:
“I thought you were too tired, because you’ve been working so hard.”
“I just thought we’d relax because we don’t get to spend a lot of time together.”
“You’re precious to me, I want to take good care of you.”
And while that’s all fine and dandy on the relationship side of things, what about the D/s that I signed up for????
One thing I said to myself when I got into this relationship was that I was damned if I was going to get another emotional attachment to an owner. In my first D/s experience, I was under the impression that he started caring for me and therefore could not dominate me anymore so on my second go, I purposely chose a ‘hard-ass dom’ who scared me quite a bit, because I thought in that way I’d be able to have the D/s without the side of relationship. I thought he wouldn’t go fuzzy-wuzzy on me – there would be no flowers or romantic poetry. It started out in many ways as a business transaction and I was hoping to keep it that way.
But then we fucked up and fell in love.
I remember the day he told me he loved me. He had this slightly mystical expression on his face and glistening eyes:
“I really do love you, you know.”
I also remember that I seriously did not want to admit the same thing to him. I almost had a Ghost moment and said, “Ditto”, but I couldn’t even go that far, so I said nothing. I just nodded. Unless you are truly a sadist, the L word causes issues. You just don’t want to beat your bitch as hard or as much when the L word is involved. You worry about her health and her welfare, she becomes much more to you than property. Love leads to relationship and once the relationship starts, the D/s just gets fucked up and I didn’t want to go there.
But now I’m at a place where I feel less threatened by the thought of a relationship. I’m quite happy to have a little bit of norti stuff when the mood takes us, but otherwise to share the time we have together in the haze. I said in a previous entry that I was concerned about my place here if I wasn’t his slave, but then I realised that I will always be his slave, by his definition. It doesn’t matter what or who I think I am, he will always think of me as his slave, regardless of the reality of the relationship that has evolved. I will be what he defines me as.
I still find it hard to utter those three little words that would leave me vulnerable and defenceless, but every now and then though I’m tempted to say to Master the three little words that the tortured Alan Shore was wont to say to the woman he deeply loved but to whom he could never admit it to:
You smell good.