I don't feel as if I've accomplished much, of late. Nothing physical at any rate, which is getting me down, somewhat. The problem of being in a D/s relationship with someone who lives far away is not being able to get anything like my weekly required dose of sexual stimulation, and solo-adventures don't really cut it. Masturbation is not so much an added extra in my life as a regular part of my daily routine: morning and evening. Cleansing, toning, moisturising and orgasming. It isn't enough.
But BDSM isn't about orgasm, or even just about physical stimulation. What I want is more complicated than that, otherwise I'd be perfectly happy with a small but perfectly formed set of sex toys and perhaps some charming and conversationally adept company over dinner every once in a while. I'm reminded, again and again, that I'm not an island, I am not sexually self-sufficient. I need someone else, and someone else in a very specific way.
I like sex a lot, an awful lot. I like being tied up, beaten, pushed down and fucked. I love the adrenaline high, the excess of sensation that comes from pulling apart the edges of the pleasure-pain barrier. I like play without sex, although given that play makes me horny, I guess that all play is sexualised to an extent (even if it is just in my mind, and that's where everything begins, after all). Yet even there, there is still a gap.
What separates "play" from "a relationship" is perhaps the gap I'm thinking of, what I'm missing is the dailiness of it all. An ongoing context for the play to operate in. Real world activity. I miss his skin, the way he smells. I don't have enough physical reminders of our connection. I have fantasies about being there when he wakes up, making him a cup of tea in bed whilst I crawl under the duvet to suck his cock, taking six of the best before bedtime. Little rituals that emphasise and underline the nature of the beast, both reinforcing and slaking my desire to be his, in my entirety.
Abandoned to his fate in inescapable rope
3 months ago