Connecting Through Simple Rituals

Rituals are something that the BDSM community has in common with many cultures, religions, and even athletes. Some rituals are formal and grand, kneeling and crossing oneself for communion. Others are less ceremonious, an athlete crossing himself before a game or always wearing some cherished object. For cultures and religions, they are a fundamental part of life. For others, they are emotionally significant. It’s a basic part of human nature that connects us to something considerable outside our own feeling or skill. We may do this thing to bring us luck, when we talk to God, or when we just want to feel connected to something bigger than ourselves.

For many of us, the rituals we practice in the BDSM community are significant to us and our partners. Our rituals may have pieces that are similar, but unlike religious ceremonies, we tailor things to what works for us as individuals. There is a commonality many Power Exchange relationships share with religion; we kneel to the one who holds power over us. It is a form of respect, a way to connect us to that person or entity. In this simple act of supplication, we are defining that we give up control.

It isn’t necessary to define why we give up control, only to recognize that we do. We allow this exchange of power freely; it is not taken from us. By performing a ritual that acknowledges our yielding of control we give ourselves power over the unseen demons of this life.

Kneeling is so simple for some, painful for others. I kneel every night at Dr. Payne’s feet as he removes my day collar, and we say goodnight. This daily ritual acknowledges our Power Exchange, our commitment to the collar, and our love for each other.  This act is almost like evening prayers. It is an act that we use to reconnect that bond at the end of the day; to say thank you for the continued support, to acknowledge that we survived a particularly trying day, or for a brief reminiscence of what a great day it was.

When we are able to practice that thing that we do, there are rituals before a scene. The moment Dr. Payne tells me to strip and present for binding and the actions before we begin a scene are reminders of my place as His submissive, a reminder that I have surrendered.  The last movement as I stand naked and bound, we share a moment of quiet as our breathing syncs and I am reminded I am His.

Even the end of the scene has significant meaning as I am unbound, wrapped in a blanket, and held as I shiver and cry: He reminds me, “I’ve got you.” I belong to Him and I am protected.

There are moments in my life that a specific ritual feels so necessary as if I might collapse from mental torment without it. At other times, these specific acts are a quiet reminder that I am whole.

Whatever that ritual is for you, allow it to be yours and move you in a healthy stable direction. Our rituals should be that thing that reminds us we are made whole by something outside ourselves.

Finding my kinky self

It’s more complicated than it seems.

I asked for a date similar to what Dr. Payne had with one of his other partners.

He smiled and said, “You have to wear a collar.” We say it was my introduction to kink and submission and I often say that wearing a collar for the first time was as if I found my missing puzzle piece. In retrospect, my road to submission started many years before when I realized that it wasn’t my job to make other people happy, likewise, it was not other people’s responsibility to make me happy. The beginning of my journey into submission began with a journey into self-acceptance.

I spent too many years thinking people would love me if I could make them happy; I would be loved if I was perfect, or if I did everything exactly the way they wanted. I was often trying to guess what would make others happy and Dr. Payne often said “You know what to do to make me happy!” That was all before D/s.

We are not mind-readers! There is this thought that if you love someone enough you will just “know” what they want without being told. I’ve seen this in couples that have been happily married for many years. It appears from outward appearance they intuitively know what the other person wants or needs. However, that is what we see from the outside. What we do not see is the communication and years of miscommunication that preceded that intuitive response. It is so much work to get there and never as perfect as it looks.

If you are a people-pleaser like me, it takes an amazing amount of courage to say to yourself, “It isn’t my job to make people happy.” It took me years to get to a place where I was happy with who I was. It started with that simple realization and the thoughts processes that had to change following that understanding.

I had to find what makes me happy.

I had to explain to people close to me what makes me happy.

If the people around me didn’t appreciate what made me happy, I had to be alright with this.

I can’t force someone to love who I am or who I am becoming.

It took years of retreats, of reading, and of looking at the little things that made me happy, until those little things connected to big things; the things I was passionate about.

Going to the gym changed from “Can I make myself skinny and attractive enough?” to “I feel better and sleep better when I exercise regularly!”

I don’t know the exact key to happiness for any one person. I know what worked for me and it wasn’t easy. Much of it depends on understanding what makes you happy, and having the courage to look at yourself to change the things you don’t like.

When I was at my emotional lowest and thought it was my responsibility to make others happy, agreeing to put on a collar—even for one evening—would have been impossible. When you are stuck in a place where you are always trying to please others, you are also stuck in a place of I’m-not-good-enough and very often nobody-loves-me.

One of the first questions I asked about wearing a collar was, “Will you humiliate me in public?” Dr. Payne said “No.” I knew that if He betrayed my trust in this, I had the courage to take that Velcro collar off and walk away.  Without self-love, I wouldn’t have had the courage to start the adventure, because I didn’t have the courage to get out.

It was a cheap Velcro collar purchased at a local adult store.  As I got closer to the day Dr. Payne would take me on that first collared date, I had come to a place of acceptance. I had gotten to a place where I was able to accept that wearing a collar and speaking to Him in a certain way for one evening would not define me. Yes, it did define me, but I wasn’t afraid of it defining me.

I submit because I know who am, I love me, I am not afraid, and I know who I belong to.

The energy that binds

It started simply enough – I escorted our girlfriend Princess to the couch. Underneath my simple black button-up dress I wore matching black panties, bra, garter belts, and stockings. Dr. Payne had already told me how sexy I looked, and the raised eyebrow and smile from my girlfriend were all I needed to know that she felt the same way. I am energized and aroused by the knowledge that my partners find me as attractive as I feel in sexy lingerie.       

Nights for all three of us to be together can be difficult to schedule. This sometimes makes me feel anxious that there is a level of expectation for the evening that I cannot meet. All the same, the start of the evening was charged with eager anticipation. It had been a few weeks since we’d had the opportunity to share the sexual energy of all three of us together.

Just sitting close to either Dr. Payne or Princess excites me, thrills me. With the three of us together on the couch, fondling mixed with a little dirty talk created an intense passion that you could feel in the air.

“I love to watch the two of you fuck!” I said. Dr. Payne smiled and raised an eyebrow at me. Princess blushed. I sometimes find it interesting to be with someone who is outwardly shyer than I, yet inwardly far more sexual!

Dr. Payne smiled. “Really? Let’s see how much you love it,” He said, leading us to the bedroom. The sexual energy that happens when three people who deeply care about each other are in the same room is amazing. I took off my dress, but everything else remained. Stockings and garters always make me feel sexy. Dr. Payne instructed me to kneel. He slowly draped cold chain over me and around my hot body. Then He moved Princess in front of me, gave her one end of the chain, and instructed her to carefully wrap it around my neck. She tugged on it, not so hard as to hurt, but enough for me to feel it and know that I was not in control.

My pussy was sopping, and my panties were getting soaked. Dr. Payne looked over Princess’ shoulder into my eyes, as if He were holding the chain. This energy, this sexual connection that is about more than just sex is difficult to explain or put into words, but just thinking about it has me feeling sensual, hot.

In these moments with the three of us, it is my pleasure to do things to Princess that Dr. Payne instructs me to do. It is the pleasure of service mixed with my attraction to her. I eagerly helped her get comfortable by removing her dress and getting us both onto the bed.

A wicked grin crossed Dr. Payne’s face. “Lick her ass!” Oh, the immediate thrill. This is an act He knows I have enjoyed doing for Him and that I was thrilled at even the idea of doing to Princess. How sweet this was, any sexual gratification I give Princess is exciting, but I am especially fond of the new experiences. It does not hurt that the sounds she makes when she is sexually aroused are amazing.

After a few moments of this I was eager to get to her pussy. I licked every enjoyable fold of Princess’ perfectly shaved girly bit. Her taste is so very luscious and intoxicating; I adore the sounds and the simple act of making her moan as much as I love her taste.

Then it was her turn to eat my pussy. Princess is amazingly in tune with how to make me squirm for her. Dr. Payne licked my nipples. My nipples are amazingly sensitive, and I can orgasm from having them licked alone, so having my pussy and nipples ravaged at the same time was like no other sensation I had experienced before. My orgasm felt like electricity was surging in arcs throughout the room. I squirted in Princess’ mouth; this makes her giggle, which in turn does amazing things to the orgasm. The puddle I left was substantial.

Time became a blur after these moments of intense orgasm. I remember tongues and squirting pussy juice, both mine and Princess’. I can recall the sensation of Dr. Payne lightly biting my nipple and the tingly feeling that goes down my body when He does this. I remember my girlfriend and I worshipping Dr. Payne’s cock – licking, sucking, and caressing.

I have an image in my head of Dr. Payne biting Princess’ inner thigh and the look of bliss on her face. I also remember Him biting my butt, and the bruise that later formed. The act of being bitten is something I enjoy as an afterthought, but not necessarily in the moment.

The final catalyst for shared orgasmic bliss was when I sat on Princess’ face while she ate me out and Dr. Payne fucked her. This shared intense moment with both of my partners is always so wonderfully sensual. I love these moments of perfect symmetry.

In the end we simply laid in the drenched sheets, all smiling at each other. I felt as sexy completely naked and sated as I did when the evening began. The simple pleasure of each other’s company in this post-orgasmic haze was enough to lull us to sleep.

The act of SHAME

How is it that as a kinky person I still feel shame for something I do? In fact, it’s the most sexually ordinary thing I do: masturbation.

I am delighted to write kinky stories, but to talk about my own masturbation makes me turn red and want to hide my face. Masturbation is something most kinky people will talk about freely, so why do I find it so hard?

I will masturbate for Dr. Payne, but to talk about sticking my fingers in my pussy or to use a toy, leaves me squeamish.  Is it the act, or the account, that I find shameful?

It’s an odd level of shame I have trouble understanding, and it sticks with me. Why? As a submissive my life is full of personal and sexual exploration. It is very much what I am about. Dr. Payne and I tell people to feel what you are going to feel. We know from experience that bottling up feelings and denying who you are is emotionally toxic.

Thus, I find myself asking: what is my deal with masturbation? Is talking about the act of sticking my fingers into my moist pussy a necessary thing?  I feel it’s something I have to explore.

Why do I have any shame about this, and why do I feel this need to figure out that shame?

There are kinks I now love and embrace happily, that were once hard limits. I did not accept these kinks as a part of me. In the early days, even the thought of getting naked in a public dungeon wasn’t just shameful, it was horrifying! There was a certain level of self-confidence I needed to get to, and a level of shame for those specific things I needed to get past.

So now I am back to wondering why I do I have this sense I need to examine and get past this most basic of sexual activities? Might it be that my need to get past this shame has to do with a very big fear: If I do not keep moving forward—learning, growing–might I go backward to the person who was ashamed of everything about themselves and had no self-love?

I understand how important it is to not let negative emotions control me, and shame was an awfully controlling force in my life for many years.

At the heart of why I need to assess my shame in talking about masturbation is about the fact that at some level, I am still allowing shame to seep in and control certain parts of my thinking. If I am allowing shame to control me who am I really submitting to?

Now I’m back to the shame and how do I get past it? Is it about the act?

The answer is in the why I need to delve into this: It is about my submission to Dr. Payne. In my heart I have a deep need to serve Dr. Payne and I desire to please the people around me. Masturbation is often a solo thing, for my pleasure only. Pleasing myself and doing thigs strictly for myself has been historically a difficult thing for me.

In the end it seems I am still learning to love me and allow myself to be sexually free and allow myself to do things that are just for me.

Soon I may be writing tales of sticking my tiny pink vibrator in my dripping pussy and squirting all over my sheets. 

Hmm.  That didn’t feel shameful to write.  Maybe, like masturbation itself, practicing writing about masturbation makes perfect.