Look at Me, I Have a Title!

Titles are everywhere in the bdsm community.  Sir this, Mistress that, slave so-and-so, etc.  I see the value in using titles where there is an established relationship, but what of people who expect everyone to use a title when referring to them or introducing them to someone?  Used in this sense, titles come across as nothing more than pompous self-aggrandizement.

When someone demands to be called by a title by everybody in the bdsm scene, I see insecurity.  I see someone who is seeking attention, approval, and status.  Some view a title as a quick route to these things, a much easier alternative than taking the time to earn them.

Expecting everyone to use a title waters down the meaning.  When you’re being called by a certain title by one person close to you, that title carries much more meaning than if everyone were made to feel obligated to use it.  (This doesn’t hold true when there are verifiable standards that come along with a title, such as Dr., Sergeant, or certified electrician.)  Titles in our community are often self-imposed; this is next to meaningless.  When that title comes from someone you’re in a relationship with, it carries much more meaning than expecting strangers to call you by this title.  That stranger doesn’t know a thing about you, so using that title is nothing more than empty lip service.

If a couple wants to have certain protocols in their relationship, that’s their choice.  But to expect others to follow their protocols is absurd.


I’m not Sure Which is Worse…

…knowing something is coming and having it hanging over my head, or being taken by surprise and thrown completely off-guard.


Some forms of play petrify me.  They’re not exactly hard limits, but they instill in me a deep dread.  These are things that push me hard, things that would have me in a quivering heap on the floor by the end of it.  Some of these things may look hot from a distance; but the closer I get to the reality, the more I want to back away.  Most of the things I’m currently curious about fall into this category.

This hit me a little while back with cum play.  T made me eat my cum a few times, and it reminded me how slimy and nasty cum is.  The fantasy, from a distance, was mostly “yes”, but once reality set in, there was a very strong “no” there, standing in direct opposition to the “yes” invoked by her control of me.

Last night, something similar happened.  We’d had a conversation a while back about public humiliation, and she’s said she wants to start doing some with me, pushing harder and harder over time.  Some of the ideas we tossed back and forth were public foot-kissing, ass-kissing, face-spitting, and taking me out fully crossdressed.  All of these things we talked about doing in a crowded, kid-less part of town.  Last night we were in one such part of town, and it was crowded, as expected for a Saturday night.  Suddenly I remembered the humiliation conversation, and the bubble of fear started to rise from my stomach.  At one point, she shot me an “I want to hurt you” look, and I thought, “This is it, she’s about to make my face red.  Fuck.”

When we got to the car at the end of the night without any humiliation, I relaxed.  I was relieved that she chose not to humiliate me that night, and that reaction made me think.  It’s odd that certain fantasies are full of sexy as they play out in our heads, but when we come close to actually doing them, there’s a part of me that just wants to run away.  I find it tasty that she can force me to go through it, and even tastier that she genuinely gets off on making me do these things that I may not really want to do.  It brings the d/s to the forefront, making it much more tangible in that moment.