autobiographical,  D/s,  Loverboy,  The Blog Days of Summer 2019,  Wicked Wednesday

Authentically Ours – Why I’ve stopped chasing labels in D/s

I just published a post called Daddy’s Boy. It took me a bit of thinking to decide on the words, I had the image but somehow the words just wouldn’t come. I think I was afraid.

Blogging can be a very myopic hobby. It’s easy to get totally into your own stuff and there’s no rule that says that you must please your readers. In fact, lots of bloggers just express themselves and hope that someone wants to read it. My blog, my rules, right? I share a lot here. I share openly about many things and if you’ve been reading along you will know that sometimes my kink journey moves quickly, other times it barely seems to be a thing at all. Sometimes I’m definitive, other times I’m undecided and not in a hurry to label things.

Labels have always been a big part of the draw of D/s. I like things to be defined. I like explicit terms. Since I began acknowledging my kinkiness I have carried several labels, some given to me, others self-imposed. I’ve been a sub, a Babygirl, a Mistress, a Switch a Domme, a submissive again, and now …. ? Well. What am I now?

One of my three romatic/sexual relationships has a D/s element. It has been an FLR since day one. We met via FetLife, there were no secrets about my switchiness or his submissiveness but we immediately adopted a “partners first” mentality. Neither of us wanted it to be a D/s-only arrangement and neither of us thinks of the other as just our role. We are lovers and partners and friends and also Domme/sub. It’s a bit fluid, in that sense: the D/s ebbs and flows but is always the undercurrent. He defers to me sexually and in every day life. He’s also full of initiative and ideas and contributes equally. He’s a good boy and we mesh so nicely.

So where does the fear come from that gave me pause before publishing a post in which I proclaim myself his Daddy? I guess because words are powerful, because words carry meanings far beyond the letters that they are made of. What do you assume about me when I say that he calls me Daddy? What do you assume about him? I don’t care, really, what others think is not really any of my concern. My issue is more with authenticity. I want to be authentic. I want to share all the nuance and detail but sometimes I feel that I lack the words. Some things just are and can’t be expressed. You may read this and think any number of things: they are wading through gender issues; maybe he’s not straight, maybe she’s overcompensating for insecurities as a Domme, or a million and one other bits of backyard psychology, assumptions, and projections. Or maybe you didn’t give it a second thought.

So what does it mean, to be a Daddy? There are loads of definitions out there, but to be frank, I haven’t given it any thought. It was a term I used, at random, and he blushed and smiled and burrowed into my neck when I said it. I asked him if he was “a good boy for Daddy?” and he lit up. It felt good, so it stuck. I’m also Miss, Goddess, Sweetheart, Baby, Love, and any number of other off-hand terms of endearment that roll off the tongue. I don’t have to choose and neither does he. He is the most submissive man I have been with, the most dedicated and the most kinky, and he brings out the sadistic Dominant in me like no other, and yet it’s the most natural, least stressful and totally organic kink partnership of my dreams.

Finally, I don’t feel like I have to try to be anything. I can just be me, he can just be himself, and everything else seems to work itself out. Regardless of labels, he is mine, I am his, and it doesn’t get much more authentic than that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

WickedWednesday

logo for The Blog Days of Summer, and erotic writing prompt for August

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