My Daddy (my Dominant if you’re new around here) and I sext back and forth nearly every day. I like to think it’s his way of keeping me in the sexually submissive headspace. Sometimes, though, I initiate it.
Just imagine me in your nap, straddling you, naked, rubbing my body against yours…
You know I get lost after that. I’m a little girl who wants what she wants but doesn’t know what to do with myself. I’m happy to be willing and naked in your arms.
Part of my submissive nature is that I am incapable of (and have no desire to) take any control of or guide a sexual encounter. It’s as if a part of my brain completely shuts down. The strong-willed, opinionated, mouthy woman I am to the world at large is gone. In her place is a woman I used to be ashamed of.
I heard and read for years that I was supposed to be assertive in the bedroom. I was supposed to speak up for what I wanted. I was supposed guide and direct a man so he would know what I wanted or liked. I was supposed to take control, act, and initiate sex.
For a long time, my idea of good sex was tied to all the things I was supposed to do that I couldn’t do. I know this may not make sense to most people, but physically, emotionally, and mentally, I can’t do those things in the heat of the moment. During sex, I would try to move my hips to meet thrusts, even though I wanted to be fucked senseless. I would try to take his hand and move it where it needed to go. I would try so hard to do the things I thought I was supposed to do – and I would fail.
Dominance and submission (D/s) clicked with me the moment I discovered its existence. Everything made sense to me. Unrealized, unknown missing pieces of my internal puzzle fell into place. There was nothing wrong with me for all those years. I need to be guided and serve the man I perceive as stronger (ahem, more dominant) than I am. I’m a submissive woman.
When my Daddy wants something from me, he takes it or commands it of me. During sex, I don’t have to “perform” an act. I can simply be fucked. Yes, of course, I participate. I kiss and stroke him. My nails rake down his back. I writhe underneath him or on top of him. Yes, yes, to all of those things. But there’s nothing for me to decide. There’s no need or desire – from either of us – for me to lead anything.
Don’t get me wrong. I make my desires known to my Daddy. The thing to realize is that there’s a time and a place for that. We have conversations outside of a sexual encounter – before and after – to discuss what we want and need. It’s not always a clinical discussion – sometimes it’s melded in with fantasies. If we didn’t have these conversations, he wouldn’t necessarily know what I want and need. He wouldn’t know what turns me on. Side note: D/s is more mental than physical, but that’s a post for another day.
As a submissive, as his submissive, there’s a proper way to ask for what I want or to let him know what I need. There’s no script to follow, but the conversation requires that I am respectful and remember who’s in charge. Sometimes Daddy gets playful and teases me about things he knows or suspects I don’t like or want. I start yelling, “Red! Red!” Red is my safeword. Red means no, stop, I don’t like this. It’s my way of making clear that I don’t want what he’s offering. The point, though, is that the conversation happens outside of the moment.
I thank God for D/s every day. I make sense now. I don’t consider myself a sexually weak woman anymore. With D/s, I’m a willing, capable sexual submissive who’s primary goal is to please my Dominant. The benefit of having a good Dominant is that I receive as much, if not more, pleasure than I give. Without D/s, I’m just naked, willing, and very unsure.