As we head into Saturday evening, we are high on the electric connection our new power dynamic has created between us. And the evening begins nicely, with Michael tying me in a breast harness. It is like slow hypnosis, as I feel his hands move against my skin, and the rope tighten around me, I feel my body relaxing, becoming pliable.
“I feel like I’m wrapping a precious jewel,” he says, and that’s how I feel as he takes his time, making it perfect, his precious object.
He takes me by the wrist and leads me into the bedroom, then slides my panties down my legs, tells me to get on the bed. I lie down naked in the middle of the bed on my back. I can’t wait to feel helpless, can’t wait to feel myself fall into the net of my trust for him. As I wiggle in anticipation, he tells me not to get too excited, this rope-tying session just for “practice,” not for sex. But I am feeling so lovingly held in that harness, so warm and swollen with pleasure and lust, that I cannot imagine there will be no sex.
He takes my right leg, bends it, moves it to the side, then places my wrist against my ankle and starts to bind them together. My bare pussy is now exposed, open, I can’t close my legs. Oh this is amazing, the stuff of years of fantasies about being exposed, helpless to do anything about it, oh I am happy. But as he continues wrapping arm and ankle together in ever more intricate patterns, I start to feel a trickle of worry. The rope is thick, heavy, and the knots so elaborate, I start thinking about how long it could take to free me.
All at once the rope feels less like loving embrace and more like a trap. I feel a jolt of panic, and my chest tightens with fear. I try to breathe it away, waiting, impatient, for him to finish the knot. When he is done, I go limp with relief, I made it, I can make it through this. I expect him to go around and do my left side, wrist to ankle. Instead he gets down on the floor to secure the rope trailing from the first knot to the leg of the bed. The panic flares huge, takes hold. It’s too much, I’m too vulnerable, too much heavy entrapment, wrapped too many times around me, unwieldy and uncomfortable.
“No, I can’t, no,” I say. “Take it off, can you please take it off?”
He raises up to look at me in surprise. He doesn’t say anything for a long beat. Then, being the sweet and considerate man he is, he obliges. He starts unwrapping me, and I am grateful, and my panic subsides, I breathe.
As soon as I am free of the rope, I sit up and grab a blanket to cover myself. But I am already regretting asking him to take it off. I have failed to submit, I don’t want to fail. I still want the experience.
“Will you try again?” I ask him.
He gives a short shake of his head. “No, I’m done for tonight. We can try again tomorrow.”
I feel an argument jump to my lips, I want to say, no, please try again, just not so elaborate and overwhelming, just a simple knot, please. But if I argue, that will make me a double failure at submission. It will be me trying to take control of the situation, get my way. The rope experiment is over.
I get dressed, and as we settle onto the couch to watch TV, he seems oddly cheerful. I suspect he could be feeling burnt out by all the intensity of the last week and actually prefers to do nothing tonight, prefers to not be responsible anymore.
I don’t really blame him for that, and he has that right. But I am not at all cheerful. My submissive trance of the last week has evaporated, the delicious spell has been broken. In my mind, newly discovered “subspace” is a magical thing, but also a black-and-white thing. I don’t yet recognize shades of gray, it is either all there, or all not. And now it’s not. For the first time since we began, I’ve lost my wonderful dominating Daddy, painful sudden, and I have no idea if he will ever come back.
Quick Cool Kisses
I am all at once relegated back to being ordinary wife with her sweet and considerate husband. I love my sweet husband, but I feel bereft the rest of the evening. And when we go to bed, our kisses are cool and quick.
I wake the next morning, and lie brooding as dark turns to light at the edge of the curtains. I squirm around, “accidentally” brushing against him until he stirs.
Oh, I say, sorry, did I wake you? He yawns, says it’s okay. I roll over to put my head onto his shoulder. I bring up the night before, ask him how he is feeling about it, but I don’t wait for an answer. I need to admit my feeling of failure, tell him how sorry I am I wasn’t able to see the rope experiment through. I tell him I must need to be more slowly conditioned to being bound and tied.
“Maybe use a lighter rope next time, not so many knots? Maybe then I wouldn’t panic.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he tells me. “It’s no big deal. We needed a break anyway.”
This isn’t what I want to hear. I repeat again, “But I failed.”
He laughs a bit. “Oh don’t worry, your punishment will come.”
I laugh, too. It is a good thing to say. We had been reading about “training” a submissive, and discussing the idea of punishment. But after my laugh fades, I sink into even deeper brooding. I have the terrible suspicion that even though the D/s has felt very real in the past week, it is still a role play game between us. We had been playing it well, but last night revealed that it is still a game that can suddenly become too much for me, and be dropped any time.
Before I can express this thought to Michael, he tells me to put his cock in my mouth, suck on it until he comes. I kneel between his legs and suck him to orgasm, but the thrill of submission is no longer attached to me. It was just an ordinary blow job, which I wanted to get done. It didn’t make me feel all warm and adoring toward him, not like just the day before, when his cock seemed like a magic scepter, object of my adoration.
I do not tell him how the spell has broken for me. I am too confused, don’t know what happened. What I do know is that I don’t want the failure to be all mine. In fact, I don’t want any of it to be mine. And as we go about our Sunday afternoon, I am secretly assigning the failure completely to him. I decide we weren’t able to complete the rope experiment because he decided to stop dominating me.
I tell myself that when I panicked the night before, instead of immediately untying me, he should have remained the dominant yet still-caring Daddy, and tried to soothe my panic. He should have let me know I was still safe with him, even though I felt scared at that moment. After all, a real Daddy wouldn’t let his little girl quit if she stumbled while trying to learn something new, say for example, riding a bike. A real Daddy would kiss her hurts and give her sympathy, but then urge her to get back on the bike and keep trying, right? Of course, he would.
Clearly, Michael should have tried to calm me down until I could get more comfortable. And maybe I would have been able to calm down, and maybe I wouldn’t have. But if I still begged to be released, and he’d decided to let me go, he should have delivered some immediate consequence for failing to submit. If he’d done that, then I wouldn’t have tumbled out of that lovely subspace.
By evening, I am practicing in my head how I will convince him of his responsibility for the collapse of the dynamic. How can a woman successfully submit if her dominant gives up on dominating when she gets skittish? Even if he finds he wants only to sit around and watch TV at that moment, there must be a way he can do that and still make sure his girl stays in state of submission regardless.
As we sit over dinner, I wait for the right moment to bring it up. But I don’t. Because I know I am wrong. It is not his fault. It is, I am suddenly sure, no one’s fault, but the fault of the dynamic itself. It is too complex a psychological interaction to sustain. It is too burdensome a responsibility for the dominating side to always be responsible, too difficult for the submitting side to always be submissive. My fears have been confirmed, we have been fooling ourselves into believing the game is real.
For the second night in a row, our goodnight kisses feel quick, perfunctory. I can no longer feel the vibrant connection that seemed so life-changing just a little over 24 hours earlier. He falls asleep, but I just lie there, curled away from him on my side, staring into the dark for long, empty hours.
It sounds like you have just hit your first subdrop. It is imperative that you speak to him about it in an honest and open way. There is no fault, it is just part of the process of learning about ourselves and what we need, and so too is it the same for your Dom.
If you want it to be more than just a game, now is the time to make it happen. Real life has it’s ups and downs and so too does the intensity in this life you have chosen, it doesn’t have to be a game it’s just not a story book either.
The more honestly you communicate, the closer you will be and the better He can provide for you, and you for Him. You are right, there is something missing from your experiment, it’s that aftercare that you heard about. It would have let you know that you are still worthy, still His and did the right thing by being honest and basically using your ‘safeword’ in a manner of speaking.
I hope you decide to tell Him your feelings and thoughts because IMO that is the truth of submission. The sex part is easy, this is the work. Good Luck!
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Thank you, yes we are so new at this point in our journey that it doesn’t unfold like we expect, and the emotional vulnerability is very surprising. It is hard to think in concrete terms like “subdrop” when in the middle of the dropping, ha. So thank you for your thoughts and advice, I promise I can and do tell my sweet Daddy Husband everything, we cannot cure each other’s confusion immediately, but we work through these things together very well.
Some of the most vulnerable feelings come from some of the most surprising activities! Some will even be things you’ve done many times before, you just never know how this closeness will surprise you!
I would suggest that now would be a very good time to start looking into aftercare and the types of things you can do with each other since everyone is different but some ideas are valid across the board.
If ever I have to stop or am not feeling certain of myself before or after play of any sort (or in general) Sir’s first question is “Are you okay?” followed by, ‘Come here…” you’d be surprised how effective that is at starting the conversation. Whether I then sit at His feet or snuggle into His chest, the problem never last long after that ..
The D/s dynamic is first and foremost about honesty. If you can’t bring yourself to say all of what you wrote above to your husband, your lover, your Dominant – what does that say about your communication and your relationship? How can he trust you to tell him if he’s going (or gone) too far at all? How can he trust you to use your safeword properly? You both should in all rights have continued the conversation at some point (now is not too late) to figure out what went wrong during the rope play. You must speak up when things feel wrong, so he knows you need to feel his comfort and connection.
D/s can be a game – that is, not a 24/7 total power exchange lifestyle. It’s fun! Maybe you both aren’t ready for more than playing from time to time. There’s no shame in whatever you choose, as long as you choose it together.
Dominants are not mind readers any more than we submissives are. They want and need to know exactly what it is we want. My husband (my Dominant) and I still are defining our D/s relationship after several years. It’s constantly changing and mutating (maybe evolving is a better word.)
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You are absolutely right, we should have continued the conversation that night, it was our “first time” of things not working out well, we were both confused, both had to figure out how we were feelings. It is such an emotionally powerful dynamic not easy to figure out how to manage it, and without a lot of experience, it all seems difficult to understand and negotiate at first, unsure how much faith to have in it. At this point that I am describing, I really didn’t know how to look at it — is this a game or sexual twist or true life for us? You are right that defining a D/s relationship evolves over time. We have been loving the process though, nothing is more engaging!
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Wishing you both well no matter what you decide!
D/s is hard for many reasons, one of which being the very thing you are experiencing. It isn’t possible to be “on” all the time, so breaks are needed to recoup. Time spent just being vanilla, no added pressure or responsibility. It’s especially important for the Dominant to prevent burnout.
I’m the same way as you, I want the constant rush of actively submitting to my Dominant (my Fiancé, luckily) all the time, to have him Dominating me all the time. It hasn’t worked that way though. I have times when I panic, like you did, and we call thugs off and just cuddle. Sometimes he needs a break and just wants to watch TV when I’m really aching for a sound spanking. I try to be as communicative as I can during these times and understanding, because this is about him also. The point I am trying to make (in case it’s gotten lost in all my rambling) is that this happens. Not your fault, not his. It just happens.
My advice echoes what the others have said. Communication is key, from both sides. I agree with nijntge, it sounds like you are in drop. The best way Fiancé and I have found to combat this is lots of physical, vanilla attention: kissing, cuddling, non-sexual stroking. He likes to hold me against his chest and stroke my arms and back, or lay my head in his lap while he plays with my hair and strokes my face. We find it soothing and it helps us reconnect on an emotional level. Also, we talk. A lot. You need to find what you and your husband can do to make you feel centered and grounded and safe to help with drop.
Don’t give up if it’s something the two of you really want. It’s an evolutionary process, a learning process. Some aspects are simply more gradual than others.
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Yes, you are telling me wise and calming things that I do appreciate. I am finding that the bumpy parts of the D/s journey are perhaps even more valuable to us than the scorching hot sex part — well at least equally valuable. When it all sort of collapses around us, we are very vulnerable to each other, and very tender, and we have no choice but to communicate and I get the chance to see what a truly good person he is. So thank you for validating for me that it’s no one’s fault, just happens, and probably an integral part of the journey.
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*things, not thugs. Stupid fat fingers 🙄