Putting the genie back in the box; the importance of self-control in kink

How does one give oneself enthusiastic consent?

Readers will know of my firm belief that kink is and can be a spiritual practice. You will also know that I believe it is the most powerful way to motivate ourselves to change and grow, if correctly harnessed. It is in part for this reason why it is so helpful to work with someone in this way as we explore–explicitly looking for growth rather than self-indulgence.

I really don’t know what I want. Or what I want is mutually conflicting. Or hideously complex and confusing. Unknowable. Or is what I want just impossible?

Right about the time I was finalizing the details of my Paris trip, a dominatrix I have followed for a long time posted something which caught my eye.  She is someone who puts out beautiful content, someone whose output I have enjoyed, but who I had never considered seeing.

We interact from time to time as she posts things on occasion which resonate with me.  What do I like about her?  She is a domme who goes way outside of the “session” parameters and seeks long-term, deep connections.  Something which feels more like lifestyle.

I am terrified of the idea of dating someone who is a lifestyle domme because I don’t know if I am capable of self-regulating my personal safety.  At least not yet.  I can admit that being married has scarred me profoundly.  The cost to my psyche of my marriage is enormous, and one whose weight I was never able to see while we were together.  But now that the masks are off…

I am a slave.  No matter what happens between my legs, no matter whether I spend more and more time inhabiting the world of the dominatrix, with certain women, I seem to respond as eager to serve.

And what happened?  Well, this domme posted that she was going to be in Paris and that she wanted a service slave to make her experience better.  The dates were in near perfect alignment.  I approached.

In the end, the dates were almost perfect, but instead resulted in a near miss.  I was already booked with someone for the time she was in town.  But what on earth am I doing?

In the end, we have scheduled time to speak.  And while I had a clear idea what I wanted before, now I don’t, and I wonder why on earth we are even speaking.  I have no business reaching out to someone now.  For one, I have a domme that I really love being with, and our relationship within the confines of our interactions is really flourishing.  Plus, I have another domme I have now seen who I am likely to reach out to again if I need her particular services: baby wrangling.  And, with the blessing of my domme, I have been introduced to another domme whose practice is a lot like what I imagine mine will be like.  But we haven’t met yet.

So, what am I thinking?

Yes, I would love to apprentice with her, but in truth, that was not why I reached out to her.  I reached out to her so that I might become a long-term slave of hers.  Do you know how confusing this is?  Part of me feels not at all submissive, and another part of me craves it.

And maybe it isn’t submission itself.  I think that instead it is that I am freaking out about where my life will lead.  Divorce is getting closer and closer to being done, and once that happens I will have to rebuild my life.  I have alighted on a business idea, but it will be very challenging.  And becoming a pro-domme is no easy thing, despite what the online marketing makes one think.  It is brutal, just like success at anything.

So, what is really going on, is that my deadline for “growing up” is fast approaching.  I have set myself the 1^st of September as the time at which I must knuckle down, become austere in my spending, my life, and begin to restructure, simplify, tie up loose ends.  We will see how that goes.  

But I am scared.  That’s all.  Just plain scared.  And I don’t want to admit it.

My therapist refers to periods like these as my “manic” phases, and that I need to learn to control it, or moderate it.  But I love the feeling of the high which accompanies these manic feelings.

I am seeing a woman who is a self-described OCD.  There are many good things about being with her.  She’s hot.  So when we go out we always get the best tables, and everyone looks at us with the right looks.  She is really great at gendering me correctly to others and correcting others in a polite and firm way.  She is also becoming a domme, and so there is much in our respective journeys that are parallel.

She has flirted with me by being domme-like, giving me natural triggers.  I have not responded, and I think the time has passed.  When we first started spending time together, this was a possibility, but we have slipped into friendship, and now I would be wary.  Am wary.  

But I think I don’t want a domme anymore.  Is that what is going on?

Certainly sexually I have never really ever “gotten off” on the domme thing.  It is more of a spiritual connection, and if I am honest with myself, it is having an authority figure in my life that is the value.  It makes me feel safe.  It makes me feel loved.  It makes me feel taken care of.

But I also know that I am capable.  More capable than most people.  More capable than most dommes.  And yet, why do I tell myself I need this?  Or why do I need this?  Am I actively undermining my own capability?

But I also do know that self-control is something which can be hot when lost as long as it conforms to a sense of consensual non-consent…but when it is a true loss of control, it isn’t so hot anymore.

Let’s put this genie back in the box, shall we? That starts with knowing oneself, and being in a position to give oneself enthusiastic consent.

P.S. I cancelled my appointment with the new domme. Perhaps some other time.