Punishment Earned & Accepted

Recently, a good friend of mine said to me, “a game is not much fun if you don’t follow the rules.” Which got me to thinking – how much am I playing a game with all this BDSM / D/s business vs. what do I really want.

It is no secret that I struggle with what I want out of a D/s relationship – or any relationship for that matter. I thought I had it pretty clear in my head that I did not wish to be owned, was not looking for an owner and had zero desire to be in a 24x7 D/s relationship. I still believe I am pretty clear on that, but admittedly I have now begun to question those statements. Not necessarily because I am thinking I want to go a deeper direction, but also because I question why I want ANY of this. The question that seems ever present is “what is wrong with me that I want someone to hurt me, humiliate me and then take care of me afterward?”

A few weeks ago, I began a long distance, play-based D/s relationship. There will be a face to face meeting soon, but for now, I am called into service at times as he provides me tasks and instruction. I understand this is not uncommon, and I have done it several times before in preparation for a face to face meeting. What seems to be unusual, for me at least, is to the degree of intensity.

In addition to the various assignments, photos, voice messages, questions, etc… He has requested that I text first thing in the morning and again before I fall asleep. The nighttime text to be sent only after kneeling and kissing the floor in his honor. These have all been completed (mostly) without incident but last week he upped the ante. He asked me to text every time I left the house and when I returned. My initial feelings, unbeknown to him, were that of indignation. I have never had that level of accountability to someone – including my partner of 15 years. But, I made a commitment to do it. I have to admit, for the first few days, it was nice. Someone was paying attention to what I was doing. Someone grew concerned if I had been out longer than expected. Someone was waiting for my safe arrival. However, it quickly grew tedious as my week started to become busier and I was dashing back and forth for a variety of reasons. I kept this to myself as I continued to want to honor our agreement. And then I forgot to tell him I had left the house.

I was very busy, rushing around, trying to take care of some things before a very hectic weekend and I forgot. He knew I forgot and I did not hide it from him. I admitted it quickly. We joked about it. I have a notorious bad memory and to me, this was nothing unusual. I forget to call people on almost a daily basis. In my mind, this was no different than me forgetting to call my mom back. But it was very different to him and realistically I should have known this. I knew that he was a very strict disciplinarian as a Master to his 24x7 slave, but I forgot anyway and it was “no big deal”. To my shock, the next day he elected to dole out his punishment.

Late morning, he instructed me that I was denied clothing, save a blanket to keep warm and denied use of all furniture. I was in such a fog when he uttered those words to me then rather than having a discussion, I just agreed. As the realization of what was being asked of me sunk in, I had some decisions to make. This is free will and I had choices. I could tell him that I wasn’t going to play. The texting and pictures were fun, but this punishment was bullshit. I had to work, I had other projects I had to accomplish and I have hardwood floors for fuck sake. I could tell him that I would do it, and then just not do it. He would never know. He did not ask for any photo proof (easy to fake in any case) and I did not expect him to drop by to check up on me. Or, I could just do it. I could accept the consequences of my failure and just do it. So, that was the path I choose. I stripped down, I got a blanket, and I made my home on the living room floor. I knew that I would probably have lost some measure of respect for his Big Scary Dom Top-ness had he NOT requested a punishment but I was pissed.

It was 100% my decision, but the anger flowed. And as I sat there, in pain and cold, I grew more and more pissed. I was not pissed at him, he had merely asked. I was pissed at myself for accepting. Yes, I wanted the experience. I wanted to know what it felt like to give up control outside of the bedroom too, but this was a bit extreme. There I sat, naked, on the floor, wondering what the fuck I was doing. What was so wrong with me, what comprises such a huge, gaping hole in my life that I needed this? Is my self-esteem damaged so deeply that I needed attention, any attention, from a man? Would I still need this if I was in a relationship with someone I cared about instead of the shallow, sleeping around I am doing now? How does the fact that I am an incredibly strong, confident, smart, ass-kicking woman play into the reality that I was sitting on the god dammed floor, hurting, cold and naked?

Anger moved right into depression and a pretty harsh self-examination of just what was going on in my head. The interesting thing is that three weeks later and countless crying fits, drunken musings, and little chats with myself, I am no more closer to figuring it out then I was the day it happened.

I have now committed to a couple of other D/s structures, online only (for now) and a few play dates with another and as I struggle to find my place within those and within the community at large, I know that it is likely to not get easier. Another amazing friend and mentor said to me "you are at your best when your limits are pushed". And for now, I am okay with that.