Joji Sada

Consent Violations

April 19, 2020 By Joji Sada 3 Comments

Consent is the defining difference between BDSM and Abuse. Even beyond Communication, consent is necessary in every aspect of kink. However, consent is an umbrella term and has many different facets.

Consent: permission or agreement for something to happen

**This is a very broad definition and leaves a lot of wiggle room for play**

Other Types of Consent:

Medical Consent: In a Long-Term Partnership, it is the consent to allow your partner to enforce medical actions or decisions. For example, requiring you to take your pills/vitamins, eat healthy, exercise, or attend medical appointments.

In a scene, this relies more on the honesty of both the Top and bottom about prior medical issues. For example, Electrical play is unsafe for pregnant women and those with pacemakers or other heart issues. Honesty is paramount to a successful and fulfilling scene.

Mental/Emotional Consent: For me, this is the combination of consent and negotiation to allow mind fuckery and/or emotionally traumatizing play. It can encompass humiliation, degradation, dark age play, race play, objectification, and other types of taboo play.

Informed Consent: All parties involved have negotiated and are aware of the risks involved. Under this type of consent, there is a debate between SSC, RACK, and PRICK.

RACK- Risk Aware Consensual Kink. “I may know that fire play may result in a burn, but I am fine with proceeding anyway.”

SSC- Safe, Sane, Consensual. “Play should be safe, with a clear mind, and the agreement of all involved.”

PRICK- Personal Responsibility, Informed Consensual Kink. “I understand that breath play may cause an asthma attack, but I want to try it anyway.”

**PRICK is considered the “next evolution” of RACK. The easiest way to apply it is that You take the responsibility to understand all risks and possible outcomes of the play you wish to take part in. It falls to you to learn instead of simply relying on a seasoned partner.

You must make the decision for yourself on what you prefer to use in your own play. I personally play under RACK but I teach SSC. I know that what I do can be dangerous and can lead to injury. I take that responsibility, as does my partner. However, SSC is much more generalized and a good rule of thumb to get your feet wet in the scene.

Implied Consent: The dictionary defines this as “consent which is not expressly granted by a person, but rather implicitly granted by a person’s actions and the facts and circumstances of a particular situation (or in some cases, by a person’s silence or inaction)”.

**Please keep in mind that communication is number one. Implied consent happens when an assumption is made.

For example, when I am in subspace, I lose my ability to Safeword. I remain engaged in the scene, but I am unable to express if something is not to my liking. If my partner decides to ask me to do something I may not normally consent to, and I don’t indicate a Safeword, he may take this as consent. Due to my participation, my consent is implied.

In my relationship, this would not be a problem due to the nature of my dynamic. However, this type of consent leaves an opening for both miscommunication and coercion. It can also lead to victim blaming (“but you didn’t say no”) and/or false accusations of consent violations (“Why did you do ‘X?’” “Because you enthusiastically participated when I suggested it”).

Consent is a fluid idea. It can change in an instant. Any type of altered state of mind (Dom/sub space, drinking, drugs, 420, medication, etc.) can lead to miscommunication and/or lower inhibitions. These lowered inhibitions may influence your acceptance of an activity during a scene but lead to regret/feeling violated afterwards when the chemicals in your brain settle.

Blanket Consent: This is a term of my own making. It is how I define my own relationship. Outside of the five items on my hard limit list, my partner has the right to do anything he wishes without prior discussion or negotiation.

Financial Consent: This would be giving complete control of your financials to another individual. This option is seen in both the vanilla and kink worlds.

Financial Dominants (FinDom/mes). This is a Dom/me who receive gifts and money from a s-type individual. There is often no further contact between the D-type and the s-type beyond gift giving. No services are traded.
Master/slave relationships often involve giving over control of all aspects of your life, including financial freedom.
Allowing another person to control your finances to prevent self-harming behaviors or to promote good money practices.

Dubious Consent (Dubcon): This is not really defined as consent since it involves coercion. It could be as simple as pursuing someone consistently, after they have said no, until they give in to your wants. It can also involve blackmail and/or abuse of power.

I have this listed because it can be included in some fantasy play. Things like Headmaster/student, Boss/secretary, or Head of Household (HoH)/maid. Such roleplays can revolve around dubcon.

Personally, I recommend that this is negotiated very carefully.

Non-consensual Consent (NonCon/CNC): According to the BDSM Glossary on Fetlife.com, CNC is a “mutual agreement that within defined limits, or subject to a Safeword or other restrictions, and to common sense, consent to activities without foreknowledge of the exact actions planned.”

That is a fancy way of saying “do what you want as long as I haven’t used my Safeword and nobody is gravely injured.” At least, that’s how I read it.

CNC is often tied to edge play. Knife play, kidnapping play, rape play, race play, and other type of play that has an element of resistance or fear. For reactions to be more genuine, a majority of the scene may be left undiscussed.

CNC in no way means that they do not have the right to Safeword at any time. As with any type of scene, anyone involved has the right to withdraw consent at any point before or during play. You also have the right to refuse aftercare, even if it was previously negotiated.

Please understand that you cannot remove consent after the fact. If you expressly agreed to play with informed consent, you cannot state that consent was broken simply because you regret something or struggle processing your thoughts and feelings.

**If you do feel as though something isn’t right, or didn’t happen as you expected, communicate with your partner. If it was a Service Top or a one-time play partner at a party, reach out. If you are unable to talk to them, reach out to members of your community that you trust**

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Now that we understand the various degrees of consent, we get to talk about the hard stuff.

The next two definitions are not ones I necessarily agree with. I hold the personal belief that any breach of consent classifies as a violation. Whether intentional or accidental, a serious discussion is needed to rectify that wrong.

Consent Violation: A purposeful disregard or breach of someone’s boundaries.

Consent Accident: A breach of boundaries or consent through unintentional means, such as, miscommunication or a misinterpretation of responses.

While I understand breach of consent can be accidental, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth to have it listed as an option. A violation, in any form, will always be a violation. However, stating it was an accident can cause it to be brushed aside with a compulsive “I’m Sorry.” To me, that removes the responsibility of one or both the individuals involved.

I will use these two terms as reference to make it easier to understand intent.

Intention is not often talked about in my community. As such, the first time I was asked what my intention for play was, I was utterly lost on how to answer. For the record, “I intend to get a caning” is not an acceptable answer.

Why is intention important? What does it mean? Who actually breaks it down enough that it matters?

The answer to the third question is Master. Because, let me tell you, play does not exist until I have the correct answer.

So, what does intention mean?

Everything in kink is intentional. I’ve never met a person that doesn’t have a reason for what they do.

A brat pushes buttons to get attention. A puppy jumps and barks for play time. A Dom sets a rule for a specific reason. A masochist may beg to receive more pain or push their boundaries.

I strive to anticipate. Everything I do is built on the intention of easing the stress on my Master and my spouses. I try to make sure chores are done, bills are paid, reminders are set, phone calls made, and/or anything else I find that is useful.

My intention in play is far different. My intention is to please.

Joji is a good girl with few boundaries. Since I prefer to not know our play ahead of time, I am often taken off guard and my reactions are quite genuine. It also means that wherever Master leads, I follow.

Because my focus and intent are based on pleasing Master, I find it very hard to tell him my intention towards a scene. So, He breaks it down for me.

“I intend to get a caning”

“Why?”

“Because I need one, Sir.”

“Why do you need one?”

“…” I Pause. Why? I’m not really sure myself. So, I think about it. Honestly, I dwell on it far more than I should. Master is patient as He watches the turmoil on my face. Why? Then I finally understand what he is asking.

“May I have a caning Sir?”

“Why?”

“Because I need to be able to let go of all my stress and guilt. I need to feel your absolute control.” My intention for play is to be pushed far enough to lose myself in the sensation of pain. My intention is to submit without reservations.

**Your intention can be as varied as your play. If its been awhile since I’ve played with Master, due to outside obligations, sometimes I just want a bare-handed spanking. In those moments, my intent is simply to reconnect with Him. Skin to skin contact is our solution.

Why is intention important?

While consent is the cornerstone between kink and abuse, intention is the building blocks. Consent opens the door, but each person’s intentions lead to trust, communication, reputation, experience, and everything else we consider defining characteristics.

-You can be trusted by a community and violate my trust at home.

-I can communicate with you and you could refuse to listen.

-You can have a polished reputation and keep your cruelty behind closed doors.

-You can be experienced but be without patience for me to learn.

Do you intend to just take what you want without regard to my needs? Do you intend to hold me to high standards without educating me on how to meet them? Do you intend to see me cry from cruelty or catharsis? Do you intend me to fear your words and movements or to revel in properly applied correction?

Do you intend to use and abuse me without my express consent?

If so, you will most likely violate my consent in the most cruel and intentional of ways.

**I need to specify that I ask these questions from my role as a submissive. In no way does this mean that only D-types can violate consent purposefully. Manipulation, use of guilt, abuse of Safeword, continuous disregard of negotiated rules, and ignoring stated limits are all ways that an s-type can purposefully violate a D-types consent.

Manipulation: “You’d do this if you loved me”

Guilt: “You never think about how stressed I am when you ask X”

Abuse of Safeword: Using your Safeword to stop mutually agreed upon punishments

Disregard of Rules: “I know I asked you to make sure I take my pills, but I’ve been skipping them because I just didn’t want to do it.”

Ignoring limits: “We agreed that any partner I had sex with would be STD tested first. However, I slept with someone last week who wasn’t tested and didn’t tell you.”

As vast as I’m sure your imagination is, there are plenty more examples of how people can violate consent, intentionally or accidentally.

Here are some of the most known ways I’ve come across:

Consent Accidents:

–Non-disclosure of medical history

Some of us have preferences on who we are willing to play with in regards to health, mental or physical.

A prime example of this happened to Master. He always asks the same questions before he will give someone a tasting of electrical play. One of his questions is about metal and/or medical implants. Metal plates in the body can heat up and give internal burns if electrified too much. So, he needs to know where to play lighter or if it needs to be avoided all together. One guy who got on his table told him he had no metal plates in his body. Turns out, the guy did have metal in his body. According to him, he has had the implant so long, it never crossed his mind that it was there. He only remembered after the fact. He unintentionally broke Master’s consent by neglecting to answer the questions fully.

–Unexpected Outcomes

On some occasions, one type of play mutates into another, less desirable type of play.

One instance happened at a local event last year. A guy was on Master’s table and they were doing knife play. He had been on Master’s table many times before and they both were comfortable playing together. They agreed to knife play, combined with electrical play, but no blood play or breaking of skin. The scene was going fine until the bottom had a knee-jerk reaction he never had before. He reached up and grabbed the knife. As you can imagine, he sustained a fairly good cut on his palm and it bled plenty. Purely by accident, we were now dealing with blood.

Accidents happen in play. There are times that blood, urine, vomit, and other bodily fluids come into play when they are nowhere near the negotiations. It is still considered a consent breach, especially if those things are on a limit list.

In this case, it is how you deal with it that matters. If this happens to you, please start with first aid and aftercare.

Consent Violations:

–Ignoring a Safeword(s).

Whether you use the stoplight system (green, yellow, red), a single safeword, a visual cue, an audio cue, or your own check-in colors, they must be respected. In my own personal beliefs, I cannot think of a single instance when ignoring a safeword would be considered acceptable.

–Coercing Consent

Repeatedly asking someone to do something they won’t until they agree is coercion. Obtaining consent while someone is in an altered mind state is coercion.

–Playing off-script

This one depends on the type of consent you have with your partner. For some, adding non-negotiated things to a scene (like an additional person, a new kink, etc) can be a violation. This does not apply to everyone.

–Removing the ability to safeword

This is a general statement but does depend on your dynamic. There are those who play without safeword. This is their choice. However, if you are playing with someone who does, and you leave them unable to use it (such as gagging without a visual safeword), then you are violating their consent.

Case by Case

–Intoxication

I try my best to never judge those who play differently than I do. Some people play with alcohol, drugs, 420, or medication in their system. I do not. I refuse to play with anyone who has.

If someone tells me they are sober and it turns out they aren’t, that is purposefully deceitful.

If someone has an adverse reaction to regular medication, that is an accident.

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I know that I have only scratched the surface of consent and violations. There are far more than those listed here. The most important thing I want you to take from this is to communicate, regardless of the circumstances. If you feel something happened that shouldn’t have or your consent was left in question, bring it up. Talk about it. Make it important.

Why?

Because it is important.

We are human. We make mistakes. I may have never intended to break your consent or cross a boundary. I cannot fix it, if you don’t bring it to my attention.

And if it is done on purpose, please revisit the list of common red flags and run the other direction.

About the Author

My name is Joji. I am 29 years old currently and I have been in and around the kink community about 15 years.I am a collared submissive to Magick42. I am also a Daddy to a wonderful babygirl, and have been for more than three years now and I find it very fulfilling. I am being mentored in and being taught electroplay. I am a masochist at heart and thoroughly love impact play, especially caning. I enjoy reading anything I can get my hands on and am a die hard Harry Potter and Doctor Who fan. I am also the secretary for a group in Idaho called Moscow S.P.A.R.K.E (Simply Providing Another Route to Kink Education). It is our mission to teach safe practices to those new to the community and give them a safe haven to ask questions and learn without judgement. We accept all kinks and all we ask in return is respect between all our members.

When You’re Not Enough

March 22, 2020 By Joji Sada 4 Comments

I have struggled to put these words to paper for quite awhile. However, this is a subject dear to me. I would like to share it with you.

I often speak about how mental health impacts my relationships and the struggle that I deal with personally. However, I am protective of my spouses and try very hard to only speak of it from my perspective.

If you’ll bare with me, I’m going to tackle the balancing of needs when mental health is involved.

Depression is a personal issue. Much like BDSM, it is unique to each individual. Typically, you are told it involves a sense of hopelessness and sadness. This can be true.

For some of us, it also leads to a lack of hygiene. It can lead to days in bed without any desire to move. It can be staying so busy that you pass out from exhaustion. It can involve a lot of crying when your insecurities are overwhelming. It can be anger, so high and instantaneous, all you can do is walk out the door to try and cool off.

Depression can also lead to ghosting.

Ghosting:. When you withdrawal from personal relationships by forgoing communication.

We talk constantly in the community that communication is everything. So, what happens when you lose that connection with your partner?

You have to make a decision.

I will never tell you to stay in a relationship you don’t feel is healthy. I will never tell you that lack of communication is healthy.

But, I will ask that you try to be patient when your partner has these issues.

It is mentally exhausting. It takes a very patient and strong person to continue to face every day when you feel alone.

For one of my partners, she deals with depression by hiding. She will spend days in our room. She doesn’t talk to anyone and she withdrawals from everything around her.

For another partner, her hygiene and desire to get up off the couch are non-existent. She just stares into space for most of the day.

For both of these partners, this is how they deal with their chronic pain and depression.

So, I talk to them. I patiently repeat what I’ve said multiple times as though it’s the first. I push them toward a shower, even when it makes them angry. I set timers for them to eat and take their medication so they don’t forget. I text them throughout the day when I’m at work so they know they aren’t alone.

Master does the same. I am a lucky individual who has him at home with our partners. He is able to make sure they’ve eaten. He is able to take them to doctor appointments when they can’t take themselves.

Even in our deepest frustrations, we do our best to stay calm and take care of them.

For our wives, their depression is fairly “standard”. The symptoms are close to what comes to mind for depression.

Now, we get into the hard subject.

Ghosting.

Master suffers from Seasonal Affect Disorder (SAD). This is a disorder that basically means that during the winter months, his depression is tri-fold. It comes on suddenly and lasts for anywhere from 4-6 months. Please keep in mind that where we live, we only experience Summer and Winter. There is no Spring or Fall weather out here. So, the darkness, the cold, and the snow lasts longer.

When he withdrawals, it starts with spaciness. He will zone out and be unaware of those around him. When the sun goes down, he feels exhausted. His insomnia acts up. He sleeps around three hours a night, and it is restless at best.

Then his headspace goes. It starts with an honest conversation with me that he is nowhere near the right headspace to play. Something I am grateful that he can be honest about.

Then the anger happens. Because his mind and body are so restless, combined with his lack of sleep, his patience wears thin. He spends a good deal of time alone so he does not risk any of us taking the brunt of his anger and frustration.

This leads to self-loathing. See, Depression doesn’t make you blind to what’s happening to you. It just makes you either not care or feel hopeless about change. So Master dwells on his list of things to-do but has no energy to complete the tasks.

Then he feels guilty. He was raised that the man always takes care of the household. But, when depression hits, we do our best to take over the tasks to alleviate some of his burden.

The more he gets in the head, the less I feel our connection as Dominant and submissive.

We go months without play. We go months without centering. We go months without any time to ourselves.

It’s hard. I have no qualms about saying that. It leaves me with high anxiety, panic attacks, and it makes my insecurities much more intense.

Sounds unhealthy, doesn’t it? It’s ok. I know it’s hard to understand.

I feel that my Master is worth my patience. He is worth my service. My Master is human. He experiences the same stresses and pain that the rest of us do.

So, I wait.

And we compromise.

Even on his worst days, he will never turn away hugs or kisses. And most of the time, cuddles.

Those silent moments are the most important. Because even as his voice is silenced under the weight of his depression, he communicates the best way he can: with open arms.

When you feel like you aren’t enough, you have to make a decision. You have to learn to separate your thoughts from their actions.

Depression, seasonal or otherwise, will consume everything in it’s path if you let it. It will fuel the anger of someone who doesn’t want to take care of themself. It will taunt you that no play means no want.

I’ve had several days feeling an overwhelming sense of loss. To a point, that I asked Master when I could “earn back my collar”. See, I have my day collar and my leather collar.

Spending months with the affirmation of his Dominance, without my leather collar and cuffs, and without centering, left me feeling abandoned.

It’s very hard to talk to someone lost in their head. But, thanks to a very firm conversation by a bestie, I realized that my needs cannot be completely cast aside.

So, several bouts of crying,a whole ton of cuddles, and some centering later, he has started to come out of his head.

He talks to me now. He tells me he’s working on it and that no matter how bad he gets, I am still important to him.

But, I never let him apologize.

In our house, you do not apologize for health issues, mental or physical.

When I made the decision to be with each of my partners, I accepted their physical limitations and their mental state. I accepted the good and the bad.

Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it is exhausting. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed and just treading water to keep going.

But I always know I’m loved. I am always told I’m important. I’m am always welcome to hug and kiss and cuddle as needed to keep me sane.

The rest, as they say, is just dessert.

About the Author

Red Flags and Red Herrings

February 23, 2020 By Joji Sada 2 Comments

I’m addressing one question that has been burning in my gut all week.

Are Red Flags Universal? For reference, I’m only using ones commonly mentioned in BDSM relationships/Dynamics.

I feel the need to emphasize that red flags are personality driven. Your role in the dynamic has no bearing on your ability to abuse and manipulate someone. Never assume that only Dominants can be abusive. Because, I can tell you, that submissives can violate consent and they can be abusive.

Be warned, if you type “red flags in BDSM” into Google, the articles will all center around Dominants. Even the ones that discuss the subs, do so from the viewpoint of a victim. Abuse victims can be any gender, any color, any size or shape, and any role in BDSM.

I started dwelling on this because of a group I am in online. It has members from all over and we started discussing red flags. For many of them, red flags were universal and the answers were very consistent.

Except, half of them didn’t apply to my dynamic.

Did this mean my relationship was wrong? Unsafe?

I came to the conclusion that no, my relationship was fine. The definition of universal was not.

I’m going to quote one of the individuals in my group. I will not share their name for privacy reasons. They told me that the best definition for “universal red flags” was this:

If you consent to it, it’s BDSM. If you don’t, it’s abuse.

I find that much more accurate than the lists online. So I’m going to break down some of the red flags that I am familiar with. This is by no means a comprehensive and all inclusive list not does it account for anyone’s individual experience that differs from this.

Remember, that abuse is never ok.

Things to keep in mind:

1) Both D-types and s-types can be abusive. It doesn’t matter how the relationship is structured. Abuse is not based in consent.

2) Relationships take many forms. What would be a red flag for you may not be accurate for all.

3) Concern for a friend is never a bad thing. Speak up and express your concerns in a private setting. Be willing to listen and never make a rash judgement.

4) BDSM looks like abuse to many people. While we are often proud of our marks, many see it as wrong. As such, remember there are two sides to every story.

5) No word universally indicates abuse. Sentences I’ve used in my own relationship are good examples.

— “I can’t wait for my next beating”

— “It makes Master so happy when I flinch in pain”

— “I always flinch when he hits me”

— “I had to wear pants so my bruises wouldn’t show”

— “We don’t leave marks where people will see”

— “He hits me with love”

**Every single one of those sentences is something I have said. A variation of every single one of them can be found in a pamphlet on spousal abuse. Does that mean I’m being abused? No, it doesn’t. Because we have negotiated the boundaries of mine and his consent. But, being an outsider, you don’t know that. You have to make a personal decision on whether to speak up or pretend I’ve not said anything controversial.

What would you do?

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Red Flags

1) Removal of affection as a form of punishment

Silent treatment is commonly touted as a cruel way to “punish” someone. I often see this one relating to Daddy/little relationships. This is not a good punishment. The basis of BDSM is communication. You can’t communicate with silence. Even worse, for those who have anxiety, past abuse, or a regressive style of age play, the silent treatment is incomprehensible. It simply leads to feelings of inadequacy and mislaid blame.

**This punishment (specifically, four hours without hugs or kisses) is in my punishment jar. It was written and chosen by me. It was approved by Master after he asked for my reason. I told him that it would be a difficult and painful punishment because I thrive with physical touch. But, I also reasoned, that if he wants me to learn, it needs to be a memorable punishment. So, we both consented to it’s use. That means, in regards to my dynamic with Master, removal of affection is not a red flag**

2) Requiring you to do something you don’t want to do.

I find this to be an ambiguous statement that has multiple ways of approaching. So, let’s break it down.

“You will do this because you love me”

— This is a manipulative statement that I would classify as a red flag. Love, or any other emotion, should not be a factor in completing an action or trying something.

“You will do this because we agreed you would take care of yourself”

–It’s never been worded quite like that for me, but I do have rules that ascribe to this thought process. Daily medication is one of them. I am very bad at taking my medication. So, we agreed that it would become a punishable rule. I still don’t like it, but I sure as heck do it.

3. Physical hits during high emotions

–This is another one of the ambiguous ones. For me, this is an absolute red flag. You do not play with me when angry, you do not touch me when angry, and you sure as fuck don’t strike me when angry.

That being said, I do know a couple of people who use BDSM as their therapy for emotions. Think along the lines of having angry sex but it involves impact play. That would make this red flag fall under RACK.

4. Aftercare

–This is a full topic in and of itself. The universal feeling among other kinksters seems to be that aftercare is a must and those who don’t give it, don’t care.

I disagree. I think aftercare is something both parties are responsible for and should be negotiated.

For some people, if they play with a service top, they don’t accept aftercare because they don’t know them very well. This is perfectly acceptable.

For one Dom I know, he does not provide aftercare. However, he requires that you have a plan in place for your own aftercare before he will play with you. He is upfront about this. I also think this is acceptable. If you have accepted his specification through negotiation, then you have consented to those rules.

On the other hand, if you are left wanting for aftercare, express it. If your partner doesn’t listen, doesn’t renegotiate, doesn’t care, or states that your needs are unimportant (either through words or actions), then that is a red flag.

5. Unwilling to admit lack of knowledge

–You will never know everything. That is a fact of life. Even decades in the lifestyle will never give you all the answers.

I often share the same story when this “red flag” comes up.

It is well know in my community that I enjoy hard impact play. It is even more well know that my Master is very good at fulfilling that need. During one party, we played heavy. He focused his hits on my ass and thighs. He left me some good marks and when we finished, I went back to my duties regarding the party.

A few hours later, when it got dark, Master was asked to do fireplay. I don’t mind being on the table to show new people what it looks like. In fact, I often find it relaxing.

But, this time I didn’t. It just felt a little too hot. Since I am extremely sensitive to temperature play, I opted off the table after a few minutes. When my back still felt hot after another 20 minutes, I went to take a look. I had a red mark on my back in the shape of a crescent moon. No idea why or how.

So I informed Master, he put burn gel on me and we were good. There is always a chance of burns from fireplay. That is part of my risk.

Two days later (keeping with Neosporin and burn gel), my bra peeled the skin from that spot while I was at work.

It took us days to figure out what had happened. Turns out, one strike from the bullwhip hit my back instead of my ass. Due to the adrenaline of the scene, neither of us noticed. Since we lit skin that was already compromised, it caused me to scar.

Master and I have 45 years of experience in the lifestyle between the two of us…and we didn’t know that could happen.

So, now, we do not do impact and fire on the same person in the same evening. This accident has led us to safer practices. All because we were willing to admit our wrong and learn from the mistake.

Therefore, an inability to take advice is a big red flag. As is being a peacock.

Peacock: strutting around as if you are the Universe’s gift to mankind and are a perfect _____ (<—insert role here)

6. The words “true” or “real”

–These are toxic addeges that are often used to lure new (or green) individuals into a coersive situation. It can make you doubt that BDSM is what you make it.

You can still be submissive and not kneel. You can still be submissive and not wear a collar. You can be a Dominant and not live in high protocol.

You can still be you, have boundaries, likes, dislikes, wants, needs, and safewords.

There is no one “true” way and no particular act that makes you a “real” Dom or sub. (Please keep in mind I am using D/s terms as a generic umbrella. The vast number of roles is simply to large to list).

I dislike, more than anything, the use of these words. I also find they can compromise your learning in BDSM.

I used to have panic attacks when Master would need to remove my collar each night. We used a day collar for work (which due to its design, could not be worn to bed or in the shower). We only used my permanent collar for events. I was convinced that it was bad of me that he had to take the collar off. That I wasn’t showing respect because I couldn’t wear my permanent collar on a daily basis.

So, we moved on the a chainmaille collar. It never had to be taken off. That’s good, right?

Maybe.

It was great until I had an asthma attack so bad that my spouses found me collapsed over a tub, trying to breathe. Master removed my collar, my wife put me in the shower, and I sat in there, hiccuping in tears and trying not to suffocate.

Would you care to guess what I did after?

I went to Master’s bedroom door, asked to enter, knelt down, and sobbed how sorry I was that I couldn’t keep his collar on. I was convinced I was a bad and unworthy submissive because I had medical issues that required my collar to be removed.

Do you know what he did?

He put his fingers under my chin and lifted my head up. My eyes were screwed shut. I couldn’t see the disappointment at my failure that way. He asked me to look at him. He waited patiently until I did.

And I struggled. I looked everywhere but at him. He locked eyes with me. He told me I wasn’t allowed to apologize.

“We don’t apologize for medical issues. We take care of ourselves.”

He put the collar back on me and quite sternly told me that “my collar never leaves your neck, even if this (he lifted the chainmaille) isn’t there.”. Then he kissed my forehead (three times) and gave me a hug.

His understanding doesn’t make him any less of a “true Dom”. My medical issues don’t make me any less of a “true sub”.

They simply make us human.

** I’m aware this list is highly subjective. Mostly, all I ask is that you think freely without judgement. Don’t believe everything you read. Don’t be afraid to disagree. Conversations of differing viewpoints is what helps us grow as people.

Just as I would never ask you to violate your limits, I simply ask you do not impose your limits onto me.

There is nothing better about me because I like it rough. There is nothing worse because I enjoy mental fuckery more than I enjoy physical pain.

I am just another submissive who is trying to find his way in the world.

I encourage you to discuss the red flags. Google then. Blog about them. Leave a comment about your thoughts.

The only way to make sure red flags are remembered is if they are discussed consciously, purposefully, and continuously.

One last question that I hope you can answer. What does a red flag look like to you?

**** ***** *****

I hope you enjoy this. I also wanted to ask, are there specific topics you need or want covered? If so, please let me know.

Thank you,

Joji

About the Author

A Journey Through Jealousy

February 8, 2020 By Joji Sada 2 Comments

My mother taught me a great many things.

But she never taught me how to accept jealousy.

Jealousy was something you don’t feel. Jealousy was a sign of an insecure person and jealousy in a relationship was a red flag.

After all, if I trust you, I should never be jealous.

So, I am going to tell you about the first time I ever felt honest jealousy. To put this into perspective, I had to have it explained to me what the name of the feeling was. I had no idea. Which also means I had no idea on how to deal with it.

Hopefully, by reading this, mulling over (and probably laughing at) my naivete, you can avoid being in the same situation.

**** **** ****

I’ve been with my wife since I was nineteen. She was my first love. This means, I’ve never had to endure a breakup. I’ve never dealt with cheating.

It took me years to navigate the idea(s)

–that arguing did not mean she would leave me

–having an opinion was ok

–speaking up was acceptable and encouraged

–it was ok to have friend time away from my spouse

And, much more. I was, and in many ways still am, very inexperienced.

However, one of my greatest attributes, to me, was my inability to be jealous.

I’ve always been very easy going. I am open when i am attracted to someone. I encourage my spouse to be just as open. I’ve never has an issue watching porn or having a spouse watch it. I don’t worry when my spouse is gone for the weekend or with a friend. All I ask is they text me occasionally so I know they are safe.

After all, if I trust you, jealousy is never a factor.

**** **** ****

When I got into a poly unit, I stayed with that philosophy. We navigated the jealousy my wife felt when I spent too much time with Master. We talked through the amount of text messages versus phones calls (since they prefer different communication methods). We worked through moments of miscommunication, we talked as a couple and then as a core.

We navigated Master’s wife’s jealousy of how close we were in such a short amount of time. We agreed on rules as a core regarding the sexual attraction that was apparent. We talked through mistakes and came out stronger for it.

Master and I worked our relationship around the needs of our partners first and ourselves second.

This was our poly.

But, I was not Master’s only sub.

That’s a lie. I was his only sub but not his only on the small side of the slash.

Master has a lifestyle sister.

**Lifestyle sibling: a chosen member from the kink lifestyle who you have added to your family despite no blood relation.

His sister had a babygirl.

At some point, he became a Daddy to his sister’s babygirl.

(Please take a minute to insert a redneck joke or as I like to do, tell the story to the tune of the song “skater boy”)

Out of respect for privacy, we are going to call the babygirl “X”

Anyways, he was her Daddy for a good year or two before I became his submissive and we became a poly family.

On average, he would see his babygirl about once or twice a year and they would talk more frequently.

It was simply a part of the package.

X and I were on friendly terms but we rarely talked.

About eight months ago, X made a surprise visit to our house. She showed up at 10 at night on a Friday and asked to stay the weekend.

Cool.

It had been a year or so since Master had seen her. It wasn’t the best weekend in our world, but we were happy he would get some time with X.

The reason it wasn’t the best weekend is that I was leaving for six weeks for work and my wife had just gotten all her upper teeth pulled.

As many of you know, my wife has a split personality and it is a four year old who calls my Master “drampa”. So, we were both needy and attention whores.

As good people do (because jealousy is bad), we put our feelings aside to let Master have a good visit.

It started as little things. She wanted to cuddle up.

This included her kissing me on my back, touching my neck, tickling me, etc.

Keep in mind, I barely knew her. Now, I recognize that those were boundaries that were being violated. However, that falls on me since I never told her to stop. I didn’t want to cause waves.

Ok. That’s fine. I’m very tactile and my anxiety was up because I was leaving. So that must be why my stomach was all icky feeling.

She spent a good portion of the day massaging his back, sitting in his lap, and peppering him with kisses and touches and tickles and…

Well, you get the picture.

To this, I have to give a reminder to those of you who have read my adventures. I enjoy hugs and kisses. But, I also know tickling is off limits. And I will never interrupt what he is doing for touches unless I am desperate. Because patience is a virtue and I try never to be intrusive.

So it bugged me.

But, his and X’s relationship was their own.

I was nervous because I wouldn’t know anybody at the job site. I am a shy person by nature. So, the twitching of my eye must have been from that.

So, solution number one: read my fanfiction on my phone and pretend I’m fine.

Solution number two: give a running play by play through text to the bestie.

I talked to her about how it breaks my heart to see my wife in pain…and how adorable she looks with no teeth.

I talked to her about how I felt a little overlooked and abandoned because X was sitting at Master’s feet, and in his lap, and next to him. I curled up alone in the chair across the room.

She told me to talk to Master.

I didn’t. Not because I hadn’t planned to. But because I didn’t want to ruin his weekend. So I figured I would talk to him on Monday or Tuesday.

I just kind of kept quiet.

At one point, Master asked me if I was ok. I told him I felt “off”. I couldn’t quite place what was wrong. I tend to be someone who wants to work through my own head before I stumble through telling someone else about it. So I told him not to worry and went back to cleaning.

Cuz cleaning is a stresser’s best friend.

Throughout the day, as I texted the bestie, she finally told me why I felt so weird.

“You’re jealous sweetie”

“I don’t get jealous.”

“It’s normal hun”

“No it’s not”

“Talk to Him”

“Later”

“Now”

“You shouldn’t wait.”

“:P”

“On your head”

Don’t you like how nice we are? We are honest, brutally so. Even when one of us doesn’t want to hear it, we will tell each other the truth.

So, she said her peace and then told me she was here if she needed me. Then we talked about her yummy Dom…but that’s another story.

Until the moment my eyes bugged out of my head. X served Master dinner.

Sounds stupid doesn’t it? Such a simple thing.

But, this was my house. I’m a routine based, service oriented submissive. There are pretty much two non-negotiables in regards to my dynamic.

1) I remove Master’s boots at the end of the day.

2) I serve *fuckin* dinner

It’s always the same order. I dish up the kids, then my wife, then his wife, and then Master. Just as I will stop what I am doing, or eating, to get refills and seconds for my Peeps.

So, as any good submissive, I bit my tongue, breathed very, and I mean VERY deeply, calmly walked to the kitchen when it was empty of people, and texted my bestie.

“The Bitch Served Him Fucking Dinner. I’m Done!!”. –this is a direct quote.

I couldn’t breathe. It was like my whole body was on fire, the anger surged through me like a tidal wave. I bit through my tongue and my eyes burned with tears.

This was it. I was being replaced. After all, my one main job and He allowed another to do it. She served everyone but me. (I will add that she offered but I did not accept the plate. Call me petty, but I chose to get my own serving).

It felt as though my knees were to give out and my heart just broke. I had no desire to do anything but hide downstairs until I left in the morning.

I don’t know how to express how overwhelming the feeling of jealousy can be. I understand it now. But, in that moment, I simply felt hopeless.

So, I dished up dinner, sat at the bar in the kitchen, and ate dinner. When asked why I was there, I simply said I was nauseous. Which was true. I just didn’t express why I was so sick to my stomach.

For all I knew, I wouldn’t have a “place” in the house anymore when I came back.

Anxiety and jealousy are a toxic combination. They fuck you up unlike any other. All the trust and faith you have in your partners just kind of goes up in smoke. It makes you feel betrayed by things that are a thousand times worse in your head than it is in reality.

Remember, I’ve lost my head over a fuckin’ dinner plate.

Just sayin’.

So, the following morning, I kissed my wife goodbye and made sure she was situated. I kissed my Master and the kids. I petted the dog, said goodbye, and left.

Then I sobbed half my drive.

I checked in with my wife often and occasionally with Master. I felt I was interrupting things. My anxiety was eating away at my stomach like acid.

Over the next couple days, X and Master parted ways permanently. Out of respect for all involved, I will leave out this portion of the story.

In the end, X was no longer his babygirl and it had nothing to do with me.

Though it took a couple months and some major honesty with Master and my wife to believe that.

In fact, it wasn’t until a few months later that Master became aware of the text messages I sent the bestie. He knew something had been bothering me, he had not known it was that intense.

He made me promise never to wait so long to tell him things that bothered me.

I shrugged and told him I had expressed my thoughts to my wife. I had talked about the jealousy with her. I was confused and overwhelmed.

All because I didn’t know what jealousy was not how to handle it.

So, I’m imparting the best knowledge I can from what I learned.

1) Jealousy is a healthy and normal part of a relationship. It is acceptable to feel as though someone else is better than you, smarter than you, or more skilled than you. It is normal to believe that your partner(s) may find this individual more desirable. Recognize it for what it is and communicate it.

2) Jealousy is not a weakness unless you let it control you. I watch a lot of true crime tv. Most of it involves spousal murder. (Morbid, I know). Often times, jealousy is a major factor. One spouse cheats, one gets jealous, one dies. This, in my opinion, comes from a lack of level-headed communication. Jealousy needs to be expressed as any other emotion. It needs to be talked about, listened to, and resolved.

3) If someone tells you they don’t experience jealousy, they may be telling the truth at that point in time. Until that experience, I would have sworn to you that I did not feel jealousy. I found it as waste of time and energy. I still feel that way. Now, I just approach it more rationally. I slowly have developed the confidence to say, “I’m feeling jealous, can we talk about it?”

4). Communication is the number one answer. Just remember that it is a two way street. Just as I express my concerns, my partner has to listen and hear me. Then we figure out a solution together.

My poly makes me happy. We talk about the good and the bad. We check in, renegotiate, and are a family.

Now, when we talk, I am also more open about the negative feelings. In the end, I’ve learned that those are just as important as the positive ones.

If I’m feeling jealousy, I need to know why…and so do they.

Am I feeling insecure?

Am I dissatisfied?

Do I have a need I was previously unaware of?

Do we need to renegotiate?

Positive and negative feelings allow for a more fulfilling relationship when they can be expressed honestly.

I hope that you never have to feel what I felt that weekend. I hope you don’t spend the better part of your life not knowing what a basic emotion is or what it feels like. I hope you are able to better express yourself than I was.

But, mostly, I hope you get the opportunity to find a partner(s) that takes your concerns to heart and can look back and laugh with you at the irrationality of it all.

About the Author

On The Edge Of Arousal

January 19, 2020 By Joji Sada 3 Comments

I would like you to imagine something for me. I’d ask you to close your eyes but it defeats the purpose of reading my words. So, let’s set the scene.

I want you to feel the stirrings of arousal in your lower belly. The soft shots of electricity that run from your lower back and up your spine. I want you to imagine the sensitivity of your skin is so acute, the still air is too much to bare. I want you to imagine you’ve been teased without mercy for the last two hours and even the breath of your lover is overwhelming. I want your groin to swell and pulse as though you haven’t orgasmed in weeks.

Lastly, I want you to watch your favorite kinks and scenes play out like a movie in your head. It doesn’t matter that you are at work, or trying to sleep, or at your kid’s soccer game. It doesn’t matter because these images, these feelings and sensitivities, will never go away.

You will spend every day of your life at the height of arousal.

Sounds painful doesn’t it?

It is.

How do I know this?

Well, since you asked…I’ve spent every day of my life in this exact state since I was a teenager. It doesn’t lessen. It doesn’t stop. In fact, sometimes it gets worse.

This is called Persistent Genital Arousal Disorder (PGAD).

By definition, PGAD is “a phenomenon, in which afflicted women experience spontaneous genital arousal, unresolved by orgasms and triggered by sexual or nonsexual stimuli, eliciting stress.”

My symptoms have manifested slightly different than most of the well-known cases. In a majority of the women who have PGAD, they may continually orgasm. One case had a woman who had more than forty mini orgasms a day with no relief from her arousal.

Mine developed over time. When I was a teen, I experienced arousal, as most do. Except, mine never stopped. At my worst (before I had a name to what was happening), I would masturbate more than twenty times a day. I should state that I did have self control enough to take care of myself in private.

I spent years being constantly sore, swollen (from overuse), and distracted beyond compare.

I’m wondering if any of you are scoffing at this. After all, how bad can it be to always be turned on? Is it really that bad to constantly desire to have sex?

The reality of it is that yes, it can be. After dealing with this, you start to contemplate ways to “take care of things”.

Let’s cover the basics that you consider for solutions:

Risky sexual behavior: you will start to be less concerned about who you will sleep with. You stop caring if they are clean of STDs and if you are in a safe play environment.

Consent becomes less important: I am going to underline the importance of this sentence. In no way am I saying that PGAD makes you a rapist. What I am saying is that you stop caring if you really like or want what is happening in a sexual situation. As long as you can find temporary relief, the rest is just the price you pay.

Work and life are hard to balance: It has taken me many years to be able to focus on my job or home life while ignoring the demands of my body. These desires never dim. Even when I have attended funerals, my body is still taunt and aroused like I am participating in an orgy. It fucks you up in the head when you cannot justify the grief with the arousal.

Your desires will almost never match your partner’s: If you have ever scrolled Tumblr, read a trashy novel, or watched just about any type of porn….having a partner who is always ready and willing for sex is the ultimate fantasy.

I can happily (and sarcastically) disagree.

Life doesn’t stop simply because I am horny. I don’t get to change my work hours to accommodate the desire to play. Doctor’s appointments, holidays, and so forth are still barriers to play time.

But, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, I’m not the only one in my life with these priorities. Just as all I can think about is fucking, most days my wife comes home from work and just wants to take a hot bath, eat some food, and get some sleep.

There are days my husband is out doing yard work on the weekend and he surely isn’t planning on moving straight from mowing the lawn to plowing me….though there are some good fantasies in my head for that…

My other wife is the same way. She does not spend her day doing math with the children and cleaning house to meet me at the door in heels and pearls (regardless of what tv has taught me).

So, I’ve taught myself some tricks of the trade.

The first thing I learned was to set a schedule. I trained my body that masturbation only happens at bedtime. That sounds depressing. However, playing relaxes your body and is known to help you sleep afterward. So, by setting myself up for bedtime play, it was both a reward for putting up with idiots all day as well as a sleep aid.

Second, I practiced orgasm denial. I have always struggled to orgasm. A side effect of constantly being on edge is that your body has a very hard time letting go. When I am able to orgasm, it’s a fucking Olympic sport. It takes the better part of an hour–if it happens at all. Sometimes, it doesn’t. By now, I simply accept it and move on. Over the years, play is simply about muscle relaxation over orgasm. On a side note, this also means that when I do Orgasm, it is explosive….pun abso-fuckin-lutely intended.

There are some side effects (and downsides, depending on your viewpoint) as well.

**It is important to note that I am speaking only from my own experience. I am, in no way, an end all be all representation of this disorder**

The number one side effect for me was what I have come to call “Heat”. I was very shy about this and have only recently shared this with a couple of friends. I am aware it is going to sound…ridiculous. I am ok with the knowledge that I may be scoffed at. I am also ok if anyone ever wants to ask me more than I have shared here.

Heat is a seven to twelve day, intensely painful bout of arousal. It starts with a burning sensation, almost like lightning from my lower back up my spine. My nipples and clit are swollen to the point that clothing is painful. My body pulses to a point of distraction.

As the days continue, the arousal turns to pain. Cramping in the stomach and back, mood swings, inability to cum or orgasm in any capacity, and no amount of masturbation or sex will bring any kind of relief.

There is no cure. There is no relief. Over the years, I’ve taken it as a challenge to never give in. With that being said, Master and I incorporate Orgasm denial (as well as masturbation control) in our dynamic. We have chosen to make no adjustments to these decisions during heat. I simply suffer for Him.

My body is always raw. I am constantly battling yeast infections, UTIs, and abrasions on/or near my groin.

I’m aware this is very TMI. Really, this whole article is. So I’m just gonna keep going…

Constant stimulation is bad for the health, just saying. For me, I am allergic to cum– mine and my partners’. What that means is that sexy time is always followed by a long, invasive shower to scrub down.

It’s worth it. It will always be worth it.

**** **** ****

I hope I have not left you feeling sorry for me. This is simply part of my life.

I can say, it has taught me the meaning of intimacy unlike anything else.

I know that the quite cuddles on the couch are moments of peace; even when it puts me to sleep almost instantly. Those moments let me forget the cries of my body.

Telling my spouses about the “heat” I suffer was difficult and embarrassing. However, it means that I’ve yet to find anything I cannot talk to them about.

I can laugh at the absurdity of my arousal and my body’s reactions. It has put me at ease and given me confidence. It has allowed me to feel no shame. I am who I am, PGAD and all.

Most of all, this has taught me how to communicate. Body language is the number one way people communicate. But, how can you read someone who is constantly turned on? How can you tell I’m upset, or tired, or happy, or in pain, when it simply looks like I want in your pants?

You don’t.

Yes, it was a trick question.

I have to tell you what I’m thinking. I have to explain my feelings. I have to remember that those “normal” cues that most people have, I don’t.

My understanding of intimacy (without sex), communication, and my self control, make me a better partner and a better sub.

I wouldn’t wish PGAD on anyone. But, at this point in my life, I’m going to chalk it up to being a blessing in disguise.

About the Author

Negotiations With Myself

December 29, 2019 By Joji Sada 2 Comments

Negotiations are a fundamental part of kink. But, it is more than just telling someone what you want. It is the ability to get in touch with yourself. It is the insight to understanding your own needs and wants as well as that of your partner(s). It is the chance to delve into the depths of your own mind and learn exactly who you are.

It sounds ominous to define negotiations as such, doesn’t it?. Not all negotiations are quite as in depth as I am discussing. For the sake of what follows, most of my focus will be on negotiating with a long term partner.

So, let’s start with the easy part: the definition.

Negotiate: to obtain or bring about by discussion.

You cannot gain anything without first discussing it. I should specify that this is a general rule of thumb and there are some of us outliers who just don’t follow the basic rules of negotiating. Though I rarely follow most of these rules myself, I do believe you have to understand negotiating before you can actively decide to disregard it.

For me, this is the difference between SSC and RACK.

Safe, sane, and consensual is what I teach. This is where negotiations fall.

Risk Aware, Consensual Kink (RACK) is what I live. I am aware that my decision to not negotiate is a personal choice, with personal risk. But, it is my choice to make.

When I fell into the lifestyle, all the information I could find was related to contracts. They were formal, long, and left little room for interpretation. Most importantly, they were always written. A contract would cover everything from if I (as the submissive) would be allowed to work to how often W/we fucked. Looking back, I chuckle heavily. Navigating and living this lifestyle have led me to love the spontenaity with which my play has developed. But, back then, I was young and eager and very much under the impression that there was “one true way.”

I hope you have not had to fight your way through that. Kink and BDSM at personal journeys, filled with lots of personal decisions and beliefs. If someone tells you differently, run.

As such, I want to walk you through the most basic ideas about negotiating and leave you with a greater understanding as you develop your own path within kink and BDSM.

**** ****

The Myths

1. Negotiations must always be written down.

Generally, I advise never to write your negotiations down. They can serve as legal documents and can be used against you in court. As much as I’d love to tell you that relationships don’t end and people don’t turn vindictive, it can and does happen.

That being said, it is a personal preference as to how you negotiate. For myself, I use blanket consent. If I have not placed something as a hard limit, Master can incorporate whatever he desires into play without prior discussion or approval from me. Because, this is how we negotiated, I have only the most basic of rules written down and the rest change to fit our play.

2. The more rules, the better D-type or s-type you are.

I will fully admit that High protocol is not something I personally follow in my Dynamic. It is something that I am still exploring and learning about. So, for this myth, I am more referring to accountability.

If you start out negotiating a large number of rules, it can lead to the inability to reinforce them. Without the follow up, it can lead to feelings of neglect and inadequacy.

Working with new individuals, I always advise they stick to less than ten rules to start with. As you weigh each rule, you each have to honestly express what matters most to you.

For myself, my rules revolve around personal health and safety….and impulse control.

A few examples are:

-I will take my pills as prescribed by my doctor.

-I am required to talk to one of my partners when upset and am not allowed to hide my feelings

-I am not allowed to clean when I am alone or when people are sleeping.

-I will not lick without permission

-I will not cause harm to myself or others unless in self defense.

Each of these rules represents a physical or mental aspect to my health and one reflects my impulse control and OCD.

In fact, as I read them, they seem almost common sense.

However, throughout my journey and my experiences with my partners, it has become important that these rules remain in place.

Negotiating does not need to be all about what happens in a scene. It is about what each of you needs to thrive in your chosen roles.

3. Negotiating only happens once.

Negotiating is a fluid concept. It should be something akin to breathing. It should be natural. It is all about communication. It does not need to be a formal sit down. Saying something like, “I am having trouble taking my pills. Will you hold me accountable?”. And Bam! I have just negotiated a new rule. (And yes, that’s almost exactly how that happened).

You could also use it as feedback as well. “Sir, I really love kneeling for you, but I need a pillow if it is going to be longer than X amount of time”. Never be afraid to confide a limitation. Medical necessities are always important to account for.

For example, I have arthritis in my feet. When it flares up, I can kneel but I have to make adjustments. I cannot rest pressure on the top of my feet, so I kneel tall. I also cannot roll up from the position. So, I place a hand on Master’s knee, pick one leg up, place my foot flat, and then pick my other leg up. Some days, due to paralysis, I cannot kneel at all.

It took me a long time to learn that my physical limitations did not make me a bad submissive in His eyes. He prefers when I ask for the accommodation. Partly because it is my responsibility to let him know about my health, but also so we can honestly discuss what we both need.

I need the ability to sit at his feet. So, when I cannot kneel, I sit and lean my head on his knee. We both still get the intimacy of our dynamic without jeopardizing either one of us.

I would recommend negotiating as often as necessary. In our relationship, we revisit my blanket consent about every six months. However, we communicate far more often and make adjustments as needed in between the “sit down” discussions.

4. I do not need a safe word.

This is a hot button issue and I am going to out right state that this is not a reflection on anyone’s choices.

Typically, I work with individuals who are new to the lifestyle. Therefore, what I teach and what I live are not necessarily the same.

If you chose to play without a safeword, that is your choice.

Even with my blanket consent, Master requires I have a safeword. We use the stoplight system. We use it both in our dynamic and for pickup play. Since it is a widely used system, it prevents confusion when we travel to events as well as keeps everyone on the same page with play.

Our definitions are as follows:

Green- I am fine and you may continue using that implement and/or increase the intensity

Yellow- I need an adjustment. I need you to check in with me.

**This could just mean I need to change implements, readjust my position, need a sip of water, or skin to skin contact

Red- I have hit my limit or something is not right. I need play to end immediately.

We also have a hand signal we use when the atmosphere is too loud. We had the pleasure of attending KinkFest in Portland last year and when you are surrounded by 1800 people, it is hard to hear.

So, when I had a panic attack in the middle of a scene, I reached my hand back to next to me hip, in his line of sight, and made a fist. That meant stop.

Since we had never been at such a large and loud venue before, I had to make the sign up one the fly. We had never discussed non-verbal cues. The reason it worked is that my hands are off limits. They are not allowed anywhere near striking zone for impact. They are to remain above my head or in front of me. Therefore, when I moved them next to my ass, where they could be struck, he knew something was wrong.

I strongly recommend discussing a non-verbal cue (or using a visual cue like a scarf or an auditory one, like a dog clicker) when discussing safe words. You may never know when you will find yourself in a situation where it will be needed.

5. Aftercare does not need to be negotiated.

While Aftercare could have a book written about it, we are going to address the basics.

If you need aftercare, you are responsible for setting it up. It needs to be discussed.

I know one Dominant who does not provide aftercare. However, he will not play with you if you cannot tell him that you have aftercare arranged.for yourself. This could be a blanket, another person, juice, fruit, and so on.

I know another who struggles with aftercare. Therefore, he needs to know exactly what you need before he will do more than a tasting.

One of my submissive friends does aftercare on her own. She does not like to be touched until she has processed the scene.

I need skin to skin contact. Whether I am naked or fully dressed, I need to feel the heat of your body warming me up. This is because I suffer sensory overload often, meaning everything is too loud, too bright, and too cold. The contact warms me and grounds me.

For Master, he needs fresh fruit and Gatorade. That is what brings his energy back up and keeps him going when he Service Tops all night. So, we always have a cooler stocked (or the fridge) for after play.

Aftercare can take any form you wish. It may also change over time, or with different partners. There is no shame in asking for what you need. But, you need to make sure that as with anything, whatever has been agreed upon is followed through.

Your word is your integrity.

**** ****

Negotiating “IN” (aka whitelisting)

This is a new concept to me. But, I understand and appreciate the thought behind it.

At it’s purest, this means that instead of focusing what you can’t or won’t do, you focus on what you WILL do.

This gives some leeway for both the Top and the bottom to try new things.

One example I had with a partner was an either/or method. She was open to using cuffs and a blindfold, but never together. So, I know that I am allowed to bring them into play without express negotiation each time, as long as only one is ever used during that scene.

It could be as easy as saying, “we can do impact with only your hand”. In this scenario, your scene is not explicitly written out like a script, but you know that you are staying within your comfort zone.

I often use this for darker play. Master will ask what I need a few days in advance. The last time I answered that I needed fear. I wanted to incorporate the elements of anxiety and being afraid during our scene. I gave him no guideline beyond my most basic limits. I left the entirety of the decisions up to him.

**On a side note, I’m aware that saying “fear” can be considered extreme but that is why I have stated that I ascribe to RACK. Sometimes I simply ask for an implement. How he chooses to use it is up to Him.**

Now that you understand the fundamentals, here is the best part.

Negotiations are what you make of it. If you can be honest with yourself, and your partner, then you have the ability to get more than just a good set of marks.

You gain the ability to grow and learn. You improve your communication skills and can objectively reflect on your wants and needs. You learn how to express yourself in a coherent manner.

Most importantly, if you are like me, you learn how to distinguish between hearing what your partner wants and actually listening to them.

About the Author

A Letter To Sir

September 22, 2019 By Joji Sada 3 Comments

I have openly written about being in a closed poly unit. I’ve spoken of my wife of a decade now who has split personality and the subsequent babygirl I got from that. I probably have droned on endlessly about both of my wives and my husband.

They are the center of my world; both in kink and outside of it. Everything I do is for them. In turn, they keep me sane. It is hard to explain a dynamic like ours when it is so heavily intertwined in poly, D/s, and traditional marriage.

So, here is a gentle reminder of my break down:

Master and his wife “A”

Myself and my wife “B”

Funnily enough, those are their real initials; which is why I find it so amusing to break it down like that. It seems as though I am marking them like items on a shelf, when really I am just giving them privacy…as I lay our life bare in this article.

The four of us are together as a unit. Master holds Head of Household rights with all of us. He is my Dominant. He is my babygirl’s drampa. Wife “A” is Grandma to my babygirl. And the rest is up for exploration and communication.

Don’t worry if you are confused…we find ourselves in the same boat often. We will save you a seat.

Now that I’ve given a gently confusing reminder of my Dynamics, we can continue with the show.

I am writing about the responsibilities, rights, rules, and hardships Dominants must deal with. I’ve been told, and seen plenty of internet pictures, about submission being a gift. I’m not entirely disagreeing with that statement. I was very selective on who I gave my submission to. And it was hard fought. But, in return, I seek guidance, advice, pain, pleasure, and emotional stability. Submission doesn’t seem quite like a gift when I add on all the requirements that are attached to it, now does it?

My Dictionary

Previously., I’ve written extremely personal articles because experience is what helps me explain why I live the way I do. It allows me to show you, with both my own words and your imagination, how my dictionary was written.

My dictionary is filled with words like

“Blanket Consent”

“Diddy”

“Drampa”

“Dealer’s Choice”

“Power Trip”

“Your Dragon”

“Beast”

And so many more.

These are words that matter in my life. Each one is defined in my dictionary but has probably never existed in yours. And that’s ok.

I also have three words I define uniquely from you. I know that for a fact.

“Mister” — This started as an inside joke that my wife made about my Master. It then generically moved to an acceptable form of address in a vanilla setting. Now, it is both a term of endearment and has probably replaced his name in the minds of those closest to us.

“Sir” –. This is an action word to me. It is the form of address that I use when I need something. It is what I use when I want to try something, get advice, or am answering in punishment. It is my acknowledgement that I am still in the real world, still present, and still fucking needy.

“Master” –. This is the culmination of peace. I use this address when I speak to others. It stands as evidence of what we have both committed to. It is what I say when I have centered or sunk into sub space (for what little I say at that point anyway). It is simply a statement of where I am and who he is to me.

In any of these roles, He must govern himself and me. For the record, I despise the term “role” because it implies, he is acting or taking up a character. Regardless of what I call him, he is simply himself.

Reflection of Behaviours

You get told that, as a sub, my behavior is reflective of my Dom and his discipline style. This has never been more accurate than it was a few days ago. As a part of my service, I act as a secretary and go-between for our local BDSM community. That means, that when someone wants advice or has a question, I get a message.

I am fairly well behaved. I don’t think I’ve been in serious trouble in more than a year at this point. I may joke a little too far or not move fast enough or even forget my pills a time or two. Small bits that need a single reminder and I’m good to go. But, because of how heavily masochistic I am, people seem to think I am always in trouble. When, in reality, those marks are from fun times, not punishment.

So, I get a message that asks me, “How can I be a terrible person? Sir hasn’t touched me in awhile and I need to play cuz I’m on edge. I need to know what you would do.”

Funnily enough, I would never act out like that unless I was out of my ever-loving mind. While we have many brats in our community, I am not one of them. I detest being labeled as one and I do not understand the mindset to be one. But, to each their own.

I answered honestly. I told her she needed to talk to her Sir and explain her edginess. She needed to use her big girl words and explain that she felt neglected.

She did not do that.

I did not understand.

Everyone is convinced that I am mouthy, and outspoken, and terrible, and always in trouble. I should specify that in my vanilla life, I am more outspoken and headstrong. I am completely different at home. But the community is also aware that Master has high standards and doesn’t put up with that kind of bullshit.

If I ever acted like that, I’d be drawing from my jar as well as counting the hits to my ass in clear, concise words.

Apparently, as I’ve been told, Master has to be a hard task master because I am so bad. I’ve had to learn to not let those words hurt me. They still do from time to time. But, if He doesn’t see me that way, everything stays right in the world. It just bothers me that he is sometimes seen as harsh when I get to see his softer side (and his Sadistic side…I like that side the most…)

Master bears the weight of my actions, my words, my successes, and my fuck-ups. I would say failing, but he has managed to get it into my thick skull that failure is simply a learning opportunity.

Therapist

Dominants also must be strong enough to hold their submissive above water. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I am a certified headcase. There are few days that go by that don’t involve a text message to Master that my anxiety is high, I’m having a panic attack, or I’m overwhelmed. In those moments, there is nothing he can do for me. I work and live in two different cities, I am gone often, and he physically can’t be there.

Yet, he finds little ways to help me.

He built me a room. It is a landscape inside my head that He helped me build. I know every crack in the stone, every engraving on the winged back chair, and every crumb of brick around the fireplace. The furnishings are cherrywood and brass. The ceilings are 20 feet high and the room locks so only we can see it. It is where I kneel before him, place my head on his knees, and simply breathe. It is how I can calm down when I am not home and I need Him.

He simply tells me to go to our room.

I can build it in thirty seconds or less now. I use it often.

During the days I am home, if I am stressed, I stretch out on the floor at Master’s and our wives’ feet. It gives me comfort and reinforces my place in the house.

When I can’t sleep because the nightmares are too strong or I am emotional, and I don’t have my wife to curl up to, one sentence helps me.

I ask, ever so timidly, “may I sleep at your feet Sir?” It is a figurative question at bedtime. We both have our own wives, who we curl to, and cuddle with. But, when he tells me yes, it gives me the comfort of his Dominance, even when we are apart.

Sometimes I cry, simply because I feel the need to. Sometimes I apologize for things I had no control over.

Most of the time, I ask his weird, off the wall questions, that make him think “how the fuck do I answer this?”

And He must remember it all. He needs to know my medications, my appointments, my triggers, my code words, my dictionary, and everything involved in my life. He knows my job at work, my wife’s needs and wants, my babygirl’s needs and wants, and then everything involved with himself, his wife, and all the lovely gremlins we call kids.

That’s a hell of a lot to take on, simply for the “gift of my submission.”

Drop

I know I’ve rambled on for a long time now, but I hope you are understanding why. It is always important to remember that just because Dominants usually have fantastic self-control and stand solid, doesn’t mean they aren’t human too. Though I doubt you will ever hear them admit it, they get sick, overworked, tired, underappreciated, and everything in between.

My Master is lucky enough to also be a Service Top. He spends nearly every event we host having a multitude of people on his table. We’ve got negotiations down pat and while he scenes, I monitor him. Because, up and down headspace that comes from doing sessions with a multitude of people, comes with a hard crash.

In my experience, it has been referred to as Dom Drop and/or Event Drop. When you get all those happy chemicals from play, and you are surrounded by all these others that do, and then it stops. The party ends, the car is loaded, you head home, and BAM! – out of commission for a few days. Everyone is different. My Master simply needs bedrest, natural sugars (like fruit), and some cuddles with his puppy.

Do you know that even when he is walking dead on his feet, he takes care of “his girls” first? He makes sure I’m in a good headspace, that my wife and babygirl are settled, and that his wife is resting peacefully before he even thinks of taking care of himself. That’s what good Dom’s do. At least, that’s what he tells me anyway.

I figure he isn’t the only one. Everyone forgets that subs aren’t the only ones with needs. It is just as much my responsibility to take care of him, yet he is always two steps ahead.

Headspace

I’ve talked about this portion in the past. I am a “catatonic” submissive (as I recently heard it coined). Basically, it means that when I reach sub space (that deep, all consuming euphoria), I lose everything. I forget how to speak, I lose the ability to remember my name, my body just reacts but my mind is gone. I have moments of blackout, where the scenes become jumbled and half missing in my head. Most importantly, I lose my ability to safe word.

I’ve never found this to be a problem because I trust my Master implicitly. However, who has to watch me for the signs? Master does. Even through his own headspace, all the chaos around us (if we are in a public play space), the energy of the room, He has to watch me close enough to know when to call the scene. I’ve fallen off dungeon furniture a couple of times, because my body is just reacting, and he has had to catch me. He has to know, that once I’m in headspace, he can’t leave me until I come back. Why? Because coming out of headspace, for me, is an extreme sensory overload. Everything is too loud, too bright, and too cold. His touch, skin to skin, is what keeps me grounded and helps me reconcile my mind and my body.

I don’t know your thoughts on the matter, but I believe that is a lot of fucking responsibility to lay at someone’s feet. –Pun intended—

Earning the Right

The last examples I am going to share with you are going to make me look like an asshole. And I am fine with that.

These are real moments that I went through, and put my Master through, that shaped our dynamic.

They shaped my service.

They sealed my trust.

When I first met Master, he was my friend’s husband. Yes, I was friend’s with wife “A” long before I met her husband. I had also been married to wife “B” for nearly 7 years at that point. Over time, we got to talking. He was knowledgeable and I found that to be quite a likeable quality. Then, when we discussed our kinks, we had several things in common and it led to more in depth conversation.

One of the very first things I ever told him was, “I will bow to no man and I sure as fuck won’t call you Sir.”

Funny thing about these kinds of declarations, you believe them whole-heartedly. I meant it. I still meant it when I asked him to take me under consideration. It took me six months to not mean it anymore. I struggled every single day and for the first couple months, I just omitted saying anything at the end of my sentences. I was generally quiet anyway.

He told me he could see the fight in my eyes any time he pushed me to address him correctly. However, he never forced it outside of a scene. And he would only ever ask once. Then, it would be up to me to respond as I chose. One time, I refused to answer him at all. So, he left me alone. He didn’t say a word as he left. He didn’t dismiss me. He simply walked out. I knelt there for nearly a half hour before he came back, my head buried in the duvet, feeling like complete disgrace. He never said a word. When he came back, he sat down, put his hand in my hair (just for comfort), and didn’t object when I turned to put my head in his lap and apologize. That was a turning moment for me. He knew it as well. But it was more important that I realize it on my own. That’s why he left. When I whispered a broken “I’m sorry Sir,” we changed.

It took me another six months before I would crawl for him. I still struggle with that today. Most of my issues deal directly with self esteem issues. I also struggle with the fact that I feel fucking ridiculous crawling on the floor like I am two.

The hardest battle, however, came with the take downs. About every four months or so, I would push. I would get edgy and snappy and perma-pms. It meant I needed a full, physical, wrestling match. I needed to fight tooth and nail and I needed him to win. Keep in mind, I never said I would try to lose. It would start with a pinning, and lead to kicking, hitting, choke holds, and anything else required to win my submission.

Then during the fourth or fifth time I initiated a take down, I gave up. We were in the third room we’d moved to, he had me pinned on the kitchen floor, and I simply didn’t understand why I was fighting. See, I’ve always fought. I’ve always pushed to be the best, to win, to compete.

This time, I didn’t want to anymore.

I laid there, sobbing, by myself, for almost an hour. I stayed in the same position he left me. I couldn’t be touched after a takedown. I needed the processing time. This time, I wanted him to break my rule. I wanted him to pick me up and tell me it was ok. But, he didn’t.

Because I had to learn to trust him. I had to learn to ask for what I needed without the fight.

I needed to allow myself to submit.

It was only after that realization, that I earned my collar. It wasn’t immediate, no, but it was a turning point.

Those are probably the most influential moments. I have rules set up, and moments where we’ve had to adjust them, but the fighting is what changed us the most.

So, when I talk about giving my submission to someone, it has gone to a man who let me take my time and learn who I was. He didn’t label me as bad or disrespectful because I hesitated in my service or fought the expectations of what BDSM looks like to most people.

He’s never called me a brat. He’s never told me he is disappointed. He’s never asked me not to be myself.

All he ever did was ask me to come to him. He asked that I talk to him when I am confused, have questions, learn something, or realize something about myself.

I can say, that takes a whole lot of confidence and even more patience.

He’s not perfect. But he is perfect for me.

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Mostly, I want you to remember that we are people first, dynamic second. At least, in my world, that has worked best. Take a moment to observe your D-type. Do you see the strain of responsibility? No? You probably won’t. I find they hide it well. Just remember, Dominants are human too.

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The last portion of this article is extremely personal. It is a letter I have written to my Master as a reflection of where I have been, whom I’ve become, and the gratitude I feel for him. If you choose not to read this, I understand. If you wish to stay, you are more than welcome. I am far from perfect, and honestly, pretty fucked up in my own head. But, Master has taught me a lot about myself and he deserves a chance to hear it from me.

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The Letter

Master,

There are moments in my life where I find myself to be at a loss for words. Its not because I don’t have any, it is merely because I don’t know how to convey them in a way that they would be understood with perfect clarity.

I’ve thought long and hard about how to tell you how much I appreciate you. Thank you has never seemed quite powerful enough to describe the positive changes you have helped me achieve. So, I’m going to simply talk to you, as I do in my head most days, and hopefully, you get to see yourself from my point of view for a change.

You have taught me a copious amount of things. I have started learning how to care for your leather. I have started learning your trades, both electricity and leather work. I’ve learned that, in the privacy of our home, you are a giant teddy bear. I’ve learned you believe you can never get sick, orange juice and pepto bismol can cure anything, and that you are a busy body. You’ve helped me learn to be more social and taught me how to flog my wife without hurting her.

Yet, do you know what I’ve learned from you most Sir? I’ve learned myself.

Sure, I’ve learned how to kneel for you. I’ve learned how to bite my tongue and remain respectful as a mode of self-control. I’ve learned how you like your coffee, your favorite pass times, and the little things that make you smile. I’ve learned to take care of you and our family.

I’ve learned, that to do this, I have an obligation to take care of me.

When I discovered the world of BDSM, I knew instinctively I was submissive. In fact, I was positive I would be happy as more of a slave. And like many, I had to explore it alone. I didn’t have anyone who knew what they were doing. So, I never experienced the clarity of definition that I have now.

When I met my wife, I was a doormat. I was so shy and quiet. My opinions were never vocalized, and I feared that upsetting my partner meant she would leave. I apologized for everything. I figured if I apologized enough, it would mean I could stay another day. That I wouldn’t be left alone.

Looking back, I was apologizing for existing. I felt I didn’t deserve anything. I was well versed in self-flagellation.

–when I would upset my partner, I would wait until she was asleep, crawl out of bed, and start searching. I was searching for the coldest, darkest, most uncomfortable place to sleep. I didn’t allow myself a blanket or pillow. After all, I was punishing myself.

–I used to cut. I still bare those scars. They sit like white chalk lines, describing the worst of my teenage years. Only one is completely legible anymore. It says “Anger”. I look at it when I’m feeling down. I use it as a reminder that it’s ok to be upset. It’s ok to stand up for myself. It’s ok to feel things. But, to never allow them to overwhelm me.

That was a hard lesson. It was hard to learn that, like my chalk marks, they need to fade. They are never meant to be reopened but to always sit on the edges of my memory.

I never learned to ask for help. My wife has been trying to teach me that for ten years. I thought asking for help brought out an obligatory attitude in people. If I ask for something, how do I know they aren’t just saying yes to appease me. If I ask for something, and they say no, they must not care enough. I didn’t want to know the answer if they really didn’t care.

But do you know what question I never asked? It never crossed my mind to ask how they could read minds. I am an observant person. I notice when your mood is off. I watch when you are sick, when you are stressed, and when you are tired. I know every movement of your body in the days leading up to a party. So, I always assumed people could notice that for me.

It never dawned on me that 1) they may or may not notice, but I’m too much of a control freak to allow myself the help. 2) sometimes, I don’t know what I need. When you see my withdrawal, my energy, my everything… you come up behind me and just give me a hug because you know I need grounding. Those are the moments I have denied myself and my wife for so long. I’ve denied myself the chance to be…human.

Submissives are one of two things on the interweb. They are either perfection–delectible, soft spoken, mannered, beautiful, and a walking sex kitten– or they are fuck ups. If you’ve ever encountered some of the darker CNC interactions, rape culture, and/or the patriarchy movement in BDSM, you have an idea of what I mean. If you don’t…well, I can always show you my Tumblr. Thankfully, your darkness compliments mine.

No one tells you how to get to the perfection part. So, as a newbie, and even further along, I always assumed I must be a fuck up. Well, I can’t fix what’s wrong with me medically and physically. However, I can hide the emotional damage. I call that compartmentalizing. I can keep quiet, so I am not seen or heard, but I am always on hand when needed. I can learn your mannerisms so that when you get upset, I can soothe you. I can always smile, always tell you I’m fine. If I believe it, I know you will.

But, you didn’t.

You looked at me with the most heartbreaking expression.

–I was crying. We were wrestling and I struggled. I tweaked your shoulder. I toughened my voice, asked if you were ok, and excused myself. I knew what was going to happen. You were going to get rid of me. There wasn’t any other choice. I had hurt you. I had laid my hands on you and hurt you. So, I held myself against the farthest door in the hallway, closed my eyes, and started to cry. I had a full-blown panic attack within seconds. I cried quietly. After all, I shouldn’t be heard. I knew that. I was there when needed, then packed away when I’m not.

Then you came after me. Above everything else, you made me look you in the eye and asked me what was wrong. You wanted to know if you had hurt me, why did I run, why was I crying? All I could do was say sorry. I probably said it five or six times before you shushed me and asked me my rules.

“Rule number 6: I will only apologize when I have a valid reason and must state such reason at the time I apologize. “

Sounds silly, I know. But, when my wife instituted that rule, years before you assimilated it, I could apologize for hours for forgetting to wash a couple dishes. Apparently, limiting makes me remember things better.

I had nine fundamentals my wife instituted for my mental health…and probably her sanity. I am stubborn. Then again, you know that well. You’ve watched those rules dwindle to three. You’ve reminded me that, when I get overwhelmed, I have more than just you watching out for me. You’ve reminded me that I must remember to appreciate my wife as well. Because whether I agreed with my rules or not, each of them was necessary for my journey to be a better person.

That gentle reminder, that solid expectation, shut down my panic attack. You were able to save my sanity with a single question.

Then you hugged me.

I never wanted to see you look so saddened again. It was the first time I ever realized that my demons, my holdbacks and hangups, my ill feelings toward myself, bled into my relationships.

How can I believe anyone is telling me the truth when I can’t wrap my head around the fact that I am not a disease?

I’m not fixed. Not by any means. But I’m not broken either. Not anymore.

I have been able to realize those moments when I speak ill of myself. I can recognize that someone’s differing opinions about kink doesn’t mean I’m bad at being a submissive. It doesn’t mean I’m not wanted nor important.

I have learned what the internet never told me; that I will never be a perfect submissive.

But, that doesn’t mean I am automatically a fuck up.

Why? Because I don’t need to be a perfect submissive.

I just need to be Your submissive. That means that I have permission to be broken and run down sometimes. I have permission to have doubts and short comings and moments of absolutely ridiculous decision making. I have permission to cry (out loud), to scream, to be angry, and jittery, and happy, and excited. I have permission to be human.

Why? Because asking for help means I’m learning.

Asking for help means I am discovering sides to myself that I didn’t know existed. Asking for help means I recognize that I have moments of absolute panic and sensory overload and anxiety. Asking for help means I can teach another person the things I didn’t get to know when I started.

Why? Because there is no deeper connection than when I look in your eyes and see the promise to teach, the promise to love, and the promise to trust me as deeply as I have you.

By learning, and asking, and trusting, we will always have a connection and trust so deep I never have room to doubt you.

Only when I learned that, could I allow myself to let go. It was the first time I went catatonic in sub space. The first time I didn’t know my own name. The first time I told you that I didn’t want to negotiate our life. I trusted you so deeply, I never had to second guess anything. I’ve never had to worry about you not taking care of me. I don’t need to worry when I forget how to talk. Because you read my body and know my mind.

I’ve placed a great burden upon your shoulders and a greater burden at your feet. Regardless of the trials you deal with personally, you have never buckled under the weight of my trust.

So, what I am trying to say, is…

Thank you.

Thank you for being a wonderful Mister.

Thank you for being an indulgent and loving Sir.

Thank you for being a strict and knowledgeable Master.

With the deepest respect,

Love,

Your Little Pain Slut

Self Care vs Self Aware

September 15, 2019 By Joji Sada 4 Comments

I find the best way to help people understand my point of view is to be painfully honest. With that being said, I’m going to share some deeply personal mental health experiences. At one time, many years ago, I would have apologized for the possibility that I may upset someone. I have learned, over the last ten years or so, that it is ok to be broken sometimes. It is ok to crack under pressure and question myself and most of all, it is ok to cry.

That sounds like common sense. I know it feels like it when I comfort a friend. I tell them all these things that I know, logically, will help them. Logistics that I have always felt I am not allowed to partake in.

I have to be perfect. So, I have told myself for about twenty-two years now. Perfection, to me, is not functioning without mistakes. Perfection means that I can cope with your short-comings without detriment to my performance. If you are having a bad day, I will soothe you, cuddle you, and tuck you in. I will make sure you only have to worry about getting a good night’s rest. If you are in pain, I will cater to your every whim. I will serve you dinner, mow the lawn, run errands, and anything else that eases the stress on you. If you are stressed, I will massage you until your body turns to jello and your eyes close in relaxation. I will do all of this…and everything else on my list.

I sound crazy, don’t I? I’ve been told I am. I’ve also been told I am a dream submissive. I disagree with both of these. But, let me come back to that later.

I have severe OCD. Everything I do happens in threes–right down to those lovely kisses I get each night from my spouses. I will compulsively ask you the same question, even when I already know the answer. I will focus so closely on what I am doing, that I won’t notice when my body is ready to collapse.

I have severe panic attacks. Some days, they are so bad, my collar has to be moved to my wrist to prevent me from suffocating in my sleep. There is nothing more intense than the failure I feel when I have to ask for the relocation of my collar. Though I am aware it is a medical necessity at those points, it is hard for me to see it as anything else.

The worst of my detriments, is the toxicity of my core values. I have three ideals that I have never been able to shake.

1) My feelings don’t matter as long as my partner is happy (i.e. never speak up in disagreement)

2) I get what I get and I’m happy for it (i.e. never ask for anything)

3) My worth is measured in my usefulness (i.e. broken things get thrown out)

Still thinking I am crazy? Reading about me on paper sure reinforces that thought. And, honestly, there are days where I am curled half naked on the living room floor staring off into space that I would probably agree with you.

But, my wives and my Master disagree.

As Master says, “the answer is always, Yes, Sir.” I said it once in play and now it has become a mantra. When He asks me the questions I find so hard to answer, such as:

“Am I worthy?”

“What am I feeling?”

“What do I want?”

My Favorite: “Why am I apologizing?”

If you have never suffered anxiety, you may be staring at these questions and find yourself completely baffled. For those whose heads are as chaotic as mine, I can see you nodding along. It took me a very long time to learn I wasn’t alone–to learn that mental health is not an automatic death sentence.

I’ve used the examples I have because my mental health heavily influences the way I submit. If I’m having an off day, Master may tell me we cannot play. He has to weigh the benefits of cathartic pain play and the ramifications that come with drop.

When I started out as a submissive, I always leaned towards slave. I never understood why. Then I discovered that some of my own core values (which I discuss further down) are the reason I have the views I do. In my own relationship, Master has blanket consent. I’ve heard it referred to as consensual non-consent as well. It basically means that as long as I have not used Red (to which so far I never have) against something, He can add it in to our Dynamic without prior discussion or negotiation.

Knowing the things about me that Master does (and which you will be privy too soon enough), He has to balance my need for a Total Power Exchange (TPE) with the mental health aspect of keeping me safe, sane, and self-aware.

With what I am have laid out below, you will probably never envy the man who has collared, kept, and cared for me. But, that’s alright. Mental Health is a hard battle for those of us who suffer from the imbalance. It is even harder for those who love us.

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Now, that I have given you background, I am going to bring up the hardest lesson I have ever had to learn: the definition of self-care.

According to Google, self care is the practice of taking action to preserve or improve one’s own health; the practice of taking an active role in protecting one’s own well-being and happiness, in particular during periods of stress.

One of my best friend’s is a guru at this concept. She does things like yoga, stretching, swimming, Brazilian waxes, takes “me time,” trains her dogs, and more. She does this with a full time job, a full college course load, a long distance relationship, and still finds time for hobbies. Its like those miracle stories you hear about single moms who work 15 jobs and still make it to school functions for their kids. She’s told me that because her life is so busy, she considers her self care to be non-negotiable. She forces herself to make time because if she doesn’t take care of herself, how can she care for her partner?

She makes a very valid point. One, that I should mention, my wife has been trying to drill into my head for ten years.

Well, when the bestie starts talking to Master and Master starts talking to the wife, I get the short end of that stick. Mostly, because it means I don’t really get a chance to refuse whatever scheme/idea/rule has been concocted.

Here’s the best part of this–turns out, I have a very different definition of self-care than my people.

Self-Care (according to Master):

I need to take time just for myself. This means that I should go hang out with friends in a non-kink related environment.

I need to have my own interests outside of my submission. This means that at least some of my hobbies should not include boot blacking and whip making.

I need to prioritize my time and learn how to say no. This means that i should never promise to do more than I can honestly manage and it is not my job to fix every problem.

Though our conversation was much longer, that was the most important “self care” rules he wanted to see happen.

Because (and I quote), I do not practice self-care.

I was almost offended. But, mostly, I was baffled. I stared at Master with the most gobsmacked look on my face and imitated a fish for a good minute before I stuttered out that I did not understand. I’m pretty sure I sounded less than intelligent. Master was understanding. He gave me cuddles and explained the recommendations above and why he believed I did not take care of myself with the same vigor I did my people. (For the record, I say “my people” because even as dedicated as I am to Master, we do have a family that is priority beyond our relationship).

Here is where that wonderful thing called communication comes into play. I mulled over his words for a few days. It bothered me that he believed I did not care about myself. To me, I did. I never missed work. I took care of the family to the best of my ability. I made my doctor’s appointments, reminded him of meetings we had, worked with out local kink community, and so forth. I functioned pretty well.

That’s when I learned I am a high-functioning ball of anxiety. According to my therapist, it is my OCD flaring up in the form of itemized mental lists that help me feel like I am in control of my environment.

But, what it also made me realize is that Master and I have different definitions of self care.

Now, this is why I gave you some background about the fucked up things mental health has done to me. Building on that, I am going to explain, as best as my mind will allow, my anti-Google definition.

–At two different times this year, I was able to walk away from cleaning house. In January of 2018, I stressed myself to the point that I cleaned until I disassociated and worked myself into a cold sweat. When I was forcibly removed from my kitchen and prevented from continuing, I had a complete meltdown. I sobbed for hours and it was days before we could turn the light on in the kitchen while I was home because even a single cup in the sink would push my anxiety through the roof. Now, with medication, strategic rules in my Dynamic, and that mantra mentality I referenced earlier, I can feel those episodes coming and can remove myself from the environment before they happen.

–I don’t zone out and hurt myself anymore. To be specific, I have fits of unconscious scratching. When I am stressed, I will scratch myself bloody. I have scars on my shin when my nails cut so deep it didn’t heal cleanly. I am able to separate itchy scratching from stressed scratching. I am able to ball my fists up, put them at my side, and repeat the mantra that “I am not allowed to scratch” until the need passes.

–I can, to a degree, ask for love. I am a very tactile person. Hugs, kisses, and cuddles are my lifeline. When life is rough, when my anxiety is drowning me, when I am stressed, those moments bring me peace. As I mentioned earlier, that need violates my toxic core values about not asking for things. But, now, I can face the possibility of the other person saying no, and ask for those simple things. I know, logically, that they would never be withheld from me. But, forcing myself to ask, and facing that possible rejection, is a huge step forward for me.

These are but a few examples of the strides I have made in my journey of self-discovery and self care. But, they don’t match up with the traditional definition of those terms. Once I realized that, I had to figure out how to put those thoughts into words and express them in a way that showed how proud I was of myself.

I came to the conclusion that self care is the steps you take to correct a behavior toxic to your health. But, being self aware, helps you identify those behaviors to begin with.

**** **** ****

I would not be surprised if you are reading this and wondering how I can function. I wouldn’t even be offended if you find me to be a difficult submissive and partner. I come with a lot of baggage and a lot of unusual mental health issues.

I’ve asked both Master and my wife why they “put up with me.” They simply tell me they love me.

I find my peace in my submission. I find my happiness in being a service-oriented person. I find my comfort in the little things that makes life easier for my family. But, mostly, I found myself in my suffering.

I found strength in admitting I am not strong all the time. I found relief in being told I was allowed to cry. I found that I am a better submissive because of my problems. While I fight the belief that I am a burden to my Master, I have learned that in order for me to trust Him with my body, I had to trust him with my mind and my soul as well.

Submission might be a gift, but self-discovery within my dynamic is my reward.

About the Author

A Little Fascination With Rope

July 27, 2019 By Joji Sada 3 Comments

I have always had a fascination with rope. It is such a versatile medium to explore kink. It can be used as a fashion statement, to lead someone, to bind them in place, or even to make them feel comfortable.

My own journey started with a class entitled “Basic Bondage and Shibari,” given by Magick42. I have been blessed to have him help me with my knots and correct my ties with my own Little.

There are hundreds of ways to use rope. There are a few things you need to know first.

There are three types of bondage associate with rope play.

Shibari– This literally translates as “to tie beautifully.” While it can include the binding of various body parts, it is more focused on the beauty of the ties. This can even include rope braided and shaped around the body to mimic clothing.

Bondage– This is the restriction of body parts with the use of rope. This can include body parts tie to each other, to another person, or to an inanimate object.

Suspension– This is rope work in mid-air. This can be either bondage or shibari but often includes elements of both types of ties.

*** *** ***

There are several types of rope that can be used. Each one has their own care regiment and their own comfort level for those involved.

Hemp, Jute, Nylon, Cotton, and occasionally paracord are the most common. I do not recommend paracord because the smaller the rope diameter, the more likely it can cut off blood supply. However, it can be woven in with other types of rope to either connect several pieces together or to create a contrast of color.

I personally use Cotton. It is easy to dye if I want different colors. It is easy to wash and soften. It is comfortable for long term wear and fits nicely under clothing.

Hemp and Jute are often used because the knots tied with them are very secure. They do have a more intense upkeep but depending on your goals, it can be the right rope for you.

**Regardless of the type of Rope you use, remember to keep safety scissors (like EMT Sheers) on hand in case of emergency. It will take far too long to release someone who is panicking without them. Rope can be replaced; People Cannot.

*** *** ***

Rope is a wonderful tool. This can be especially true with Age players. Often using the term Little, rope can be used for pleasure of discipline.

I told you our story first because when people think of littles, they think only of girls and usually in a sexual Daddy Dom/little girl scenario. In truth, for most of us, that is a much different category. I’ve had to struggle through finding definitions and distinctions for the last few years, so I wanted to give you something to make it easier to understand.

Little: A person who finds it more comfortable to be taken care of. Often times, the most important thing is the reassurance of your love and the comfort of cuddles. Littles can be any gender, any color, and a variety of ages. I know some who range from age 1 – age 6.

Middle: This is more of an age range definition. Middles tend to be from roughly age 7 to age 12. It is not set in stone but more of a generic age range based on the types of behaviors they exhibit.

Teen: These are people who range from ages 13-17. Typically, teens are seen more with age-players and it is far more often for ages 15-17 to exhibit the sexual behavior that is attributed to Daddy Dom relationships.

Big: This is an umbrella term for the “adults.” Mommies, Daddies, Caregivers, Babysitters, Grandmas, Grandpas, Aunties, and Uncles. The labels for an adult will vary with each Little based on the type of relationship you have or the way they relate to others in your life.

Caregiver (CG): A Caregiver is someone who makes the decisions for the littles. They are often part of the outer role of adults that the little trusts.

Babysitter: A Babysitter is someone who temporarily watches over a little when the CG cannot.

There are four types of littles. They all share characteristics but are decidedly different.

For the following two types, it is important to note that the mindset present is that of a child. Most often, they are not in a mindset to consent to anything beyond what you may ask a Toddler. There is absolutely no sexual interaction with either of these two nor is there an expectation of consent.

Regressive: This type of little is someone who’s mind regresses to the age they are representing. For many, they are unaware that they are in adult bodies. Some may lose the ability to walk or require the use of diapers simply because their mind does not know how to do these things. Often, the time that they are in the “little” mindset ends up being a blackout for the adult mind.

Split: These are individuals who have Dissociative Identity Disorder (formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder). This is a change from one person to another where the secondary personality is a young child. The personality may or may not be aware that they are one part of a whole.

For the next two types, there tends to be a headspace associated with these. From what I have been told, it is like sub space. It is a space that allows you to give up control and forget about adult responsibilities for a time.

Age Player: These are adults who are fully aware that they are pretending to be a different age. Usually there is no sexual aspects to this relationship.

Sexual Age Player: This is where you tend to find Daddy/Mommy Doms and Little girl/boys. Often shortened to DD/lg (Daddy Dom/little girl), this is a subset of BDSM. There is a D/s relationship that is built around comfort and Domestic Discipline. The little often has rules that the DD/MD enforces and corrects willful disobedience. The most common punishments are spankings, corner time/time outs, and grounding.

** I specified the various types of Littles because some of the rope types need explicit consent that Regressive and Split Littles are not capable of giving. Since neither of these types of littles are able to recall their actual age, they cannot consent any more than an actual child. As such, the rope work I use with these individuals is usually limited to a basic harness, that does not restrict any part of the body, and a wrist leash. These are like the Monkey backpacks and Monkey leashes sold for toddlers.**

Knots and Ties

I know, it is a lot of general information. However, it is always to distinguish the difference between the different abilities to consent.

This is a Waist Tie I originally found on thedutchy.com when I started getting into rope. It is wonderful for keeping underwear or diapers on your Little. After all, some of them thoroughly love to run around without clothes on. It can be used for punishment to keep toys in or stop them from playing without permission.

Front Back

You can vary this tie and secure their wrists to the sides of the tie (or behind their back) as well.

This is a tie I favor for punishment. It works well if your Little needs to be placed in the corner or if you are trying to teach them to keep their hands to themselves. Its quite frustrating for those with a lot of energy or brats who enjoy pushing your buttons.

*** *** ***

This is probably the most common Harness Tie I see in my community. Though this example shows the restriction of the arms, you can do the same harness without the restriction if you simply enjoy the look of it or if your Little has issues with bondage.

From my experience, these ties are the basis for almost any basic rope that you will try. Once you master these, the world is at your fingertips.

Rope can be as broad as your imagination. I am going to include basic ties to get you started. The Google, Fetlife.com, Youtube.com, and your fellow kinksters can be a wealth of information to help you grow and learn.

About the Author

Don’t Scream- Part 1

July 6, 2019 By Joji Sada 3 Comments

You told me not to scream. That thought plays in my head constantly. What would have happened had I not listened? Honestly, I’m not even sure it’s not just a coincidence.

Maybe I should back up a little.

I was headed out. I’ve taken to nightly walks after work. After I got home, I went down to my room, changed into shorts, a tank top, and a pair of running shoes.

I came upstairs to kiss you goodbye. Just like I always do.

You gave me my kisses, three to be exact. Because kisses always come in threes.

I told you I love you. You smiled at me with the most curious eyes. When I smiled back, you replied that you loved me to.

I was almost out the door when I heard you say, “Don’t scream.”. I stopped and turned for a second, seeing you standing in the doorway.

My eyebrows furrowed and I looked at you. Looking back, I can’t promise that’s what you actually said. But I didn’t ask for clarification.

I know how much you hate repeating yourself.

So, I left.

I took off down the block. Our town is small, maybe ten city blocks. It’s quiet and everyone says it is a nice place to live.

I’ve met very few of our neighbors, but I feel comfortable walking to the library by myself. It’s a quick walk and gives me some time to distress after the long day.

I made it to the library, if it could be called that. It’s more like an office with a few bookcases, but beggars can’t be choosers.

I didn’t find anything of interest this time. As I left, I decided to keep walking. I headed back home but curved off a block early, veering towards one of the back roads. It doesn’t lead to much. A few recycle spots, but I admit to a curiosity. I enjoy dumpster diving; provided I don’t get caught.

I was about halfway there when the darkness came. A solid cloth, almost like a thicker pillowcase, was thrown over my head and my body was heaved into something.

Is it bad to admit that in that moment, I was more focused on the fact that someone picked me up so easily than I was about the fact I was being abducted?

I can only assume it was a van. The way my body hit the side without touching a seat, meant it had to be an open space. For the record, Sir, it hurts.

I didn’t scream.

My hands are frantically trying to get the cloth off. I’m feel like I’m going to suffocate.

My wrists were grabbed and pulled away. My arms are straight out, holding at shoulder height. I’m struggling and pulling and kicking as my hands are held in place by some type of contraption.

Why can’t I move Sir? How are they doing this? Why aren’t you here?

Whoever is near me, or has me, slaps me hard enough to turn my head. They can’t see it, but I’ve bit my lip.

But I don’t scream.

I need to bide my time Sir. I wonder how long until you realize I’m gone. Will you believe I’ve taken off? Will you wait for hours before you seek me out?

Or are you behind this? Are you the reason I am restrained in this darkness? Are you the reason all I can hear is he gravel under the tires as I’m driven far from home? Do you know these people? I know there are at least two. One is driving and one is the one who trapped me. How many are here? Will there be more wherever we stop?

I’ve been silent so far. I don’t know if that is a good thing or not. But, it’s automatic Sir. When I’m home, with You, and the hood comes out, I lose my ability to speak. It calms my mind so quickly.

When the hood is on, all I am to do is listen.

Here, my lessons are mixing with the unknown. Will I be in trouble because I didn’t fight back? Will you be mad that my rules unconsciously applied to a situation outside Your control? I’ve trusted you with my whole being Sir. I’ve given You the rights to do as you please without needing my active consent. Is that what is happening? Have you conditioned me for this type of play? Have you given me away?

Have you…?

My mind is wandering Sir. I’m finding it hard to focus now. The makeshift hood is fucking with my mind. I’m trying hard to pay attention. I’m trying to take in as much as I can. My body is relaxing Sir. I’ve been conditioned to this.

What is happening to me?

The hardest part is when something presses against my ears. Suddenly, the sound of the gravel has disappeared. So has the hum of the vehicle.

My heartbeat is louder. Blood rushes through my ears like white water rapids. I’m panicking Sir. But I don’t know how to respond. I’m trying to breathe through it. I’m building the safe room in my head Sir. Every fine detail is etched into my mind. I keep waiting for your hand to grip my hair. I want your fingertips to run across my jaw before you smack me. I want your comfort Sir.

But You aren’t here.

The hood keeps me quiet, even when I shouldn’t be. The silence makes me afraid. I’ve always been open about my fear. I talk so much because I am afraid of the in between. I don’t like the quiet. It hurts.

Still, I do not scream.

I’m ashamed of myself Sir.

I fell asleep. While being abducted. By strangers.

I fucking fell asleep.

I only wish I could explain it to you. For you to understand how much I fight my narcolepsy each day and how much I think I’m broken when I can’t.

It was a perfect mix of conditions. I sat in the dark, surrounded by the vibrations of a moving car, and exhausted by the attempts to keep my panic at bay. So, my body retreated to a safe place. It went to sleep.

I didn’t know this of course Sir. See, when I sleep, it’s like blinking. I close my eyes and open them and somehow in those few seconds, hours have passed. There is no rest. No relief. No dreams.

Course, blinking hurts a lot more when it is mixed with a few smacks to the face. After all, I don’t expect kindness. I don’t really expect anything from these strangers.

My cheek burns. The person, who I am going to assume is male by the force of his slaps, favors my right side. He has a fascination with backhanding me. The hood mutes some of the pain, but it’s still there.

He woke me for a reason a least. He wants me to walk. Correction, he wants me to crawl. As if I’m not angry enough I’m in this situation.

I find it funny that the very things I do for you Sir, are being used against me here.

I hope the stranger didn’t expect me to go easy. It took me months before I would even think about crawling for you. He’s not getting something so precious.

It’s odd to me that the things that scare me most aren’t the obvious. I’m not afraid of the possibility of being sexually used and abused. I’m afraid of losing the precious moments of my submission. The things I made you work for, the things I struggled with, and the things that took all your patience to let me succeed.

I once told you I would crawl to no man. It took nearly a year before I sank to my knees, the O ring on my collar between my teeth, as I followed you around the room at your whim. I don’t want that tainted.

I don’t want to lose myself because someone ignorant has taken leave with me.

The vehicle stopped. He unhooked my wrist and I swung it towards him. He caught it easily. One palm holding my wrist and one around my neck, pinning me against the car wall.

“Try it again and I break it.”

He let me go and I gasped for breath.

They are going to break me Sir. I may come back to You as little more than a box of broken glass…if I come back at all.

To be continued…

About the Author

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Joji Sada

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