Gandhi said that if you want to change the world, you have to be the change you want to see. To that end, Insatiable Desire brings you No Stupid (Kink) Questions, a series of questions asked by novice kinksters around the web. If you have a question for us, leave it in comments, or send it to rayne (at) insatiabledesire (dot) com with “NS(K)Q” in the subject.
Recently, my mistress and I went from d/s to m/s. I’ve never been a slave before, but I thought I’d give it a shot. Problem is, now that I’m a “slave,” she just up and disappears for weeks without giving me any indication of where she’s going, or how long she’ll be gone. Or she’ll tell me she’s going to the store, and show back up at my house three days later. She doesn’t call, or take/return my calls while she’s gone. Is this normal? Because I don’t know if I can be a slave if this is normal.
No, this is not normal.
Being the M in a M/s relationship does not absolve a body of responsibility to the s in the relationship.
Imma say it again for the people in the back.
Being the M in a M/s relationship does not absolve a body of responsibility to the s in the relationship. Read more…
His new favorite spot.
It’s no secret that I hate doing dishes. I mean, I’ve been washing dishes by hand since I moved out of my parents’ house at 17. Washing mound upon mound of dirty dishes by hand, spending (sometimes) all of my free time up to my elbows in dirty water is fucking depressing. If I can get away with it, I’ll leave dishes in the sink for days, and feel wholly justified…and a little disgusted with myself. But justified, nonetheless.
At some point, shortly after my ex and I moved to New York, we bought a used portable dishwasher, but it never worked right, so I never used it. Instead, I did dishes for four toddlers, an overgrown toddler, and myself by hand after every single meal (or at the end of the day depending on what was going on). And then, when I was in rehab, my “friends” sold my dishwasher and kept the money. I haven’t had the money, or the inclination, to buy a dishwasher since, and low income housing doesn’t generally have neato appliances like dishwashers, so I’ve been doing dishes by hand for 19 years.
It still throws me off when I realize I can say I’ve been doing anything for more than 10 years. Read more…
M: I have to pee.
Me: You’re not allowed.
M: I am allowed, but I could make it so you’re not allowed again. That could be fun.
Me: That was never fun.
M: It was certainly fun for me.
Note to self: Stop telling him he’s not allowed to do things.
There’s this idea that consensual slaves don’t have wants or needs. Or, at the very least, if they do, they should just shut the fuck up about them. Because they’re the bottom, right? Slaves have given up their rights, and therefore, they’ve also given up their wants and needs.
But that’s just not how it works.
First of all, slaves are human. I don’t know any humans who are able to just check their brains and hearts at the door on a whim. Not even for someone they love.
Oh, they may be able to put them off for a while, but in the end, they eventually have to scratch those itches, or they’ll begin to resent the reason they can’t.
But besides that, this is consensual slavery. Say it with me now. Con-sen-su-al. That means the whole entire reason the slave is a slave is because it scratches an itch for them. It’s something they want.
I feel like with that statement I could mic drop and walk away, but the “slaves have wants” diatribe isn’t even why I came here. It’s just something that’s been on my mind as I’ve watched an old friend be very open with her readers about her relationship troubles, and read the smattering of absolutely disgusting responses mixed in with the well wishes and heartfelt advice, and it so nicely coincided with the real reason I want to write that I figured I’d shoehorn it in and use the real reason to make my point. Read more…
Previous to this relationship, M and I were both in relationships where we couldn’t talk about our problems with our partners. And not just problems we had with our partners, but our problems with all of life.
If I started talking about problems I had that involved my ex, he’d disappear for days, leaving me and the kids without money, and sometimes without food, while he was out galavanting with friends and fucking other women. If I started talking about my problems outside of him, he’d go off on tangents about why my focus was in the wrong place and how weak I was.
Master’s ex would use his paranoia against him, and try to convince him that it was all in his head; even things she said and did directly to him.
So one of the first things we did, when we got together, was start negotiating all the things we wouldn’t do to each other, starting with being able to say anything in the world to each other without it causing a rift in the relationship. I mean, beyond whatever problem there already was to cause us to say whatever we said to each other, obviously. Read more…
Something we talk about a lot in kinky circles, around the sexblogosphere, and just about everywhere in the post-Steubenville world, is consent. What it is, what it isn’t, how to get it, what to do if you don’t get it (stop? duh?), whether or not it can be achieved with coercion, how it’s affected by drugs and alcohol…
Something we don’t talk a lot about is consent in long term relationships. I mean, we do to some extent. For a little while, the hot topic was whether or not it’s rape if the couple is married (it is), and what, exactly, is owed to your partner in a long term relationship. But I’m always a little nonplussed by the idea of consent in LTRs. I mean, it feels silly to constantly ask your partner of 5, 10, 35 years, “Is this okay? Do you mind if I touch you here? Can I penetrate you, now?” Especially if you’re in a healthy relationship with a healthy spouse who has never expressed an issue surrounding consent before.
Maybe that’s just me. Me and Master, anyway, because he agrees with me. (Though believe me, I’m not saying either of us is 100% healthy—mentally, or otherwise.) Read more…