I Want a Puppet, Not Play

she doesn’t want another submissive guy, she wants her personal … boi!

Original post can be seen here

reblogged:

I WANT A PUPPET, NOT PLAY

I didn’t find D/s through the BDSM community, I entered by way of blogs and my Dom was my husband of twelve years. I didn’t have to worry about predators and finding the right Dom. I didn’t have to build trust the same way people do with new partners. I haven’t had play partners (Dom or sub), therefore I have never had to follow the rules that go along with that. I have never been to a play party or anything other than a munch — and the only munch I’ve been to was this month, five years after finding D/s. What I’m trying to say is that my views were not formed by the scene. And now I’m (somewhat) stepping into it and I feel like I’m in a completely different world. Things are just not done the same way, and there are good reasons for it.

I completely understand the need for protecting new subs with a bunch of guidelines, spreading the word about what they should expect and what they should absolutely not put up with. There needs to be rules for play parties, dungeons, and all that. I also think new Dom/mes should be armed, as well. It is a crazy world out there to begin with, add BDSM and… you just need to be even more careful.

I think the BDSM scene will end up being a world I only visit. I can’t see myself submerging in it ’cause there’s this other world that is… my home. I am excited to meet kinky people, I am excited to learn, but when faced with play parters and such, I just can’t seem to get excited. It’s like… meh, that’s cool, but look over here! Look at this!

There’s a boi kneeling for me. I could pass over a million kneeling subs without a second glance, because they aren’t kneeling for me. This one doesn’t kneel because he is a sub, he kneels because he is my slave. He is there for me — to please me, obey me, endure for me. He is my puppet. He will be whatever I want him to be. My personal massage therapist, done. My sex toy, done. My crying, helpless bitch, done. We don’t negotiate, his limits are where I put them, I don’t need his consent because he is mine. It doesn’t end, the chains don’t disappear, we don’t part ways. He is mine, always.

That is what I am invested in. That’s what feeds me and calms my mind. I know there is a lot of surface I could scratch, but I want depth.

About dave94015

interested in alternative relationships, visual artist, erotic romance writer and reviewer of erotica, drug rehab clinic intern - early 30's
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