When the D/s Dynamic Gets Slippery

I was a bad girl last night.  Those are the first words that came to mind as I sit down to write this while it is still early morning dark.  I don’t know if that’s literally what I was; more like imperfectly submissive.  I upset Daddy for sure.  I got myself in a mental tangle, one of those stupid things, for stupid reasons.  It is the first time that has happened like that.  I have been shaken and rattled by this dynamic before, scared by it, but I have not felt … Frozen in mind, unable to willingly surrender.  It was strange …

Daddy came home from his trip last night, and I was nervous, but I was so relieved when he walked through the door and immediately pushed me down to my knees to take his cock in my mouth.  A little later he tied me in wonderful rope, tight around my breasts, and I felt that delicious submissive spell creep up on me.  Then he said it was time for a spanking.  But instead of lying across his lap like I was told, I said, “Wait!”  And I ran into the bedroom to get the tray of butt plugs.  I planned to ask him to put one in me before he spanked me.

I had spent some time on Fetlife earlier in the day, and saw again the submissive girls posting videos of themselves showing how much they can take in their ass, how big the toys, how they train themselves.  Or their Daddies post the videos of themselves ass fucking his sub with captions like “see what a good baby girl I have.”  It’s clearly a prized submissive skill, to take your dominant’s cock in the ass, and so of course this is what I aspire to – for that, and many other reasons, pleasure reasons, submissive mindset reasons, spiritual reasons.  And after Daddy had been gone so long, I’d thought, Damn, after all Daddy’s efforts to get my ass to open up, I am probably back to where I started, and I need to get back to some kind of training …

But as I started to open the drawer for the tray, I didn’t feel right taking it back into the living room and trying to get him do something I wanted.  It seemed it should be his idea, not mine.  And what if he wasn’t in the mood for that?  I closed the drawer, went back to couch where Daddy was waiting, and started to lie on his lap.  But then I had the thought, no I’m allowed to at least ask, and so I straddled his lap and started to talk to him about it …

But I couldn’t quite get the words out.  I felt embarrassed and stupid that it meant so much to me.  I felt I’d already made a fool of myself asking for anal training too many times, mentioning it over and over, writing about it, and leaving the stupid tray of plugs laying out on the coffee table.  I’d been hinting, hinting, but he only reached for them a few times on his own.  So I sat there facing him, frozen, unable to say what I wanted.

“What?” he demanded.  “What do you want to say?”

I could only shake my head.  I felt like a bad submissive for having my own agenda, and then I suddenly I felt upset at him.  Why did I have to keep asking (pleading) for ass training?  Why did he keep telling me he was into that if he really wasn’t?  Why did he agree it was an important thing for us to accomplish and then make so little effort to get there?  Was it because he was tired of working on my stubborn tight butthole?  Was it because it had become a chore?  It was agonizing to be spinning in such a mental circle over something like THAT.  My fear of turning him off made my mind freeze up, and then the ropes on me felt ridiculous too, I felt the urge to get them off me.  And so I asked him, please take them off …

But he said no  (oh, I did feel relief when he said no, if he’d said yes, then that would confirmed that I was indeed ridiculous).  He said I was wearing them for him, not me, and that was a relieving thought, and then he said time for spanking, and I was shaking my head, I didn’t see how I could submit to that feeling so foolish already, but he kept coaxing me, physically pushing me over his lap, and that was good, I needed that.  The spanking was good, it helped, I could feel myself moving back toward submission.  But then … there was nothing else to submit to.  He didn’t ask for anything more.  So we sat, we watched TV, and submission drifted away out of reach again, and soon I wanted the ropes off again, kept asking, please take them off.

It was a fairly miserable evening for me, and when we went to bed, he said he’d tuck me in, but I told him I didn’t want that either.  He became silent for a long while.  I lay still and cold and hard.

Finally his voice came in the dark, tinged with a note of fear:  “You don’t want to do this anymore?”

“That’s not it,” I said.  But I didn’t know how to express my own fears.  We were somehow in a moment of crisis with D/s I didn’t fully understand.

We lay there in the dark for several more long, tense minutes.  Then all at once he rolled toward me with energy and purpose, and pushed me over onto my side.

“You don’t have a choice,” he said, then shoved my leg up so that my ass was exposed to him.  I lay still, heart beating hard as I heard him open the lube.  Then he tucked me in all right, shoved his fingers up into my ass, whispering in my ear, “You’re mine, and you’ll do as you’re told.”

Oh fuck, the relief to feel dominated!  To be given no choice, to shut all those tortured thoughts off.  To just say, yes, Daddy, I am yours.  Oh, I wanted to cry with relief.

But this morning I feel regretful, very much like a bad girl.  I don’t like upsetting the D/s dynamic.  Why does it feel so fragile sometimes?  Is it just because we are so new?  Do we just need to better understand how it works?

The submissive mindset sometimes comes easy for me, sometimes it slips away, mostly when I am embarrassed or scared or feeling foolish.  But clearly, I can’t fix it all by myself.  Submission is only half the equation, there needs to be strong force of dominance on the other side.  I need a very strong Daddy, someone willing to dominate me forcefully when I am feeling wobbly in my submission.

This is not an easy thing for us to grasp firmly, we are both so indoctrinated in the respect the other person’s feelings, we have all this cultural training to look it at is wrong and immoral to do something without the other’s consent.  But when I am struggling like that, I don’t need my feelings respected, I need them overrun and shut off.  I need to be physically made to obey, put in my place.

That is what I was craving last night, to be forced to obey.  He figured it out eventually, he is very smart and intuitive.  But it took hours, and I wonder what will happen the next time I become frozen and reluctant.  Can he force me to submit?  What if I am even more reluctant than I was last night, could he drag me over his lap, and cram my head against the couch and spank the crap out of me until I KNOW who my Daddy is?  Could he hold me down and fuck me and show me I belong to him even if I was saying no?  How dominant is he in truth?

I suddenly feel this rebellious teenager type feeling of wanting to test our boundaries.   Find out what my Daddy is made of, find out how much he wants to own me.  I have no idea how I’d really feel if he did run roughshod over me like that.  But I can honestly say I crave to be subdued.  I don’t want to be able to control the level of dominance he exercises through my own feelings.  There is paradoxically a feeling of great safety in being shown total and complete dominance, of knowing there is no room for me to wiggle free and be left to my own mind.  I am usually miserable when left to my own mind.  I feel saved when I submit to his.

There it is, the truth.  I want to be forced, I need to be forced.  What will he say when I tell him?

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