Day 3

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Day 3

How do you know you are submissive or have the potential to be submissive? How do you feel when you express your submission?

How do I know that I am what I am? Honestly, that was something I asked myself for a long time, before I really understood what a submissive was. Before I knew that someone could take on that label.

When I was 17 I had my first real boyfriend. There were follies before that, including the boy that I gave my first blow job too, much childish groping, and some very bad kissing incidents (I nicknamed one of my potential suitors ‘fish lips’ at one point…), but eventually the 19 year old from U Conn stuck. He was literally a farm boy from a small town in Connecticut, as vanilla and wholesome as you get. He was also addicted to video games, specifically the Halo series and a few others. He taught me how to play some, but rather than play along I often sat and watched him play. There was an open couch to lounge in, a bean bag chair, and his favorite arm chair that he liked to sit in when he played games. Rather than sit on the couch or the bean bag chair I sat at his feet on the floor every damn time, for not other reason other reason than it felt good. No one ever prompted me to, and I have no idea why I ever thought it was a good idea. It just felt…right. As time went by I asked him to pick out my clothing. I would bring thing to him when he asked..and then when he didn’t asked. I made him breakfast without question when I spent the night and learned quickly what to make him for breakfast before asking.

Certain fetishes have developed over time. They show up with specific people, in specific circumstances. Not every person I’m involved with spanks my ass till I cry or pulls my hair, turning me into a rag doll, just like not every person I’m involved with flogs my bag or pets my head or scritches behind my ears or tucks me in at night and reads me a story… My kinks are eclectic and continually developing, but the instinct to submit has been there for a very long time. It’s a core part of who I am. It comes out, whether or not I’m trying to lock it away.

How do I know I am a submissive? The same way I know that I am an artist. Even when I can’t work, even when I don’t have time to get in the studio, it’s a need inside of me. It’s part of who I am. I have no choice.

As for how I feel when I express my submission… It varies. When it’s casual play it depends on the motivation for the play. Sometimes I need a cathartic spanking.. I want to cry, but I don’t want it associated with the person I’m closest to.. Sometimes I’m playful. I want to try new toys I’ve never felt before. Sometimes I’m feisty and bratty and goad tops into biting back. It all depends.

But submitting to my primary? To the person I belong to?

I feel at peace. I breathe better. Muscles that I never remember tensing relax. Even if it’s pain that follows my submitting.. Even if it’s his hand coming down on my chest or thighs or ass. Even if it hurts, it’s so good. It itches a scratch, sates a need that only one person can fill. Submitting makes me feel whole and cherished.. For however long there is a collar around my neck or a strong voice ordering me to present my chest or lean back so he has access to my legs, the giant weight I carry around during my everyday life is lifted. Someone else has control in those moments.. someone else calls the shots. Someone who can read my body like a book, who knows how far to push me and when to back off, who knows when I need a tender touch after several very harsh ones before I vocalize that need.

Submitting, like making art, allows me to function.. It gives me release when I have no words…

Huh. No wonder the kink world leaks into my artwork so much.. They’re both the same catharsis for me… Intriguing.

Three days done, 27 to go.

Yours,

-Rena

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