I have lost my submission

This is a very sad statement for me to make. It’s an honest one at the time of writing and because my emotions are like a sign writers flight plan, I do not know what it will feel like tomorrow, but right now, as I place my fingers on keys that make up the words, the submission is lost.

It is like a rabbit. Grey and wild for context because they seem like the hardy variety. The white fluffy ones seem like a fairytale so we will go with the grey and wild for now. The rabbit, who is the caretaker of my submission these days, is in and out of burrows, putting her head up and sniffing the air, only to dive back underground and out of sight. There she is- now she’s gone – over there – no over here – gone again. She’s agile and elusive. Damn her.

When I think I have the submissive thing worked out she runs away with it and I can only watch her go, she’s too fast. She never stays still long enough for me to get to know her. On her heels is the hunter. I’ve always liked the hunting analogy when it comes to dominants and submissives. I like the feeling of being hunted. It’s seductive and nerve wracking. Like me. There are tactics involved. That’s alluring. I confess I am turned on by the predator movies. Being caught is the end result of the D/s hunting fantasy. That’s submission 101. The hunter catches his prey. She is caught and consumed and happy about it. For some reason my head doesn’t compute the caught part. It’s on a constant hunt and that is not healthy.

This is why I have lost my submission. I don’t know how to be one. Yet. I don’t know how it be happy when caught. I’m always looking to return to the hunt.

There is no point to this post. No question. It’s a release. Thank you for reading it.

I’ll see what tomorrow brings.

Sub-creation

Have you noticed that so many submissives are the creative type. Whether it be writing, art, fashion, cooking, coffee art – it’s a thing, what ever it might be, so many submissives are creating things. I wonder why that is?

I’m kind of going to break apart the submissive personality here so move on a few paragraphs if that’s been done like a bottom at a dungeon party.

To be submissive is to be really arrogant. How dare we go against society and popular culture and listen to our gut?It’s just rude. Be over scheduled, confused and exhausted like the rest of us. There is no excuse for being smart and together and deciding to defer to another in some or all of our lives. How dare you?

Submissives are annoying. We really are. We know what we want and we know what feels good. We are not wishy-washy. There is no demure princess hiding in here. There is a fully gown mountain lion fighting for what she needs. Submissives are so annoying for knowing that. No wonder the rest of society is baffled by us. We are a contradiction walking around wet and satisfied.

Is that why we are creative? Welcome back if you skipped ahead. Have we acknowledged some chemical need inside our brains and we need to channel that into something that is more than ourselves? Who has met a submissive that hasn’t penned an erotic story? I’m looking around at the lack of hands in the air.

It’s pent up desire bursting from a sticky cum filled center. It’s painting time. That time between knowing this is the answer to my life and finding the dominant that keeps the same time as me. Listening for that tick tick that matches my tick tick needs accompanied by music, words, paint, fabric, coffee.

Going against the grain takes grit and adjectives. The majority of my family, friends associates and space cadets will not live in a D/s or M/s relationship so they won’t know what the hell I’m taking about. If you are like the majority of us, you keep it to yourself, behind your front door and with only the most trusted vanillas. Maybe you have better connections than mine but I haven’t had any success in explaining this thing that we do – that’s another story – but for me, it’s something I keep to myself and my blog. It has to come out somehow. That’s why religions proselytise. The more the merrier, come believe in what I believe in. People love to share and when someone believes in the same way of life as we do, it makes us happy. Our health level goes up, our happiness score rises and we feel fulfilled and verified.

We are not a religion – oh if only we were, imagine the tax implications. How do we proselytise? We create. We splash the paint around to write a message that is uniquely ours.

Mine is writing. What is yours?