Preface: I just realized that my current boy, Mine, has a name just one letter off from my ex-partner’s, Minx. This post is about both of them. Read carefully or it’s gonna get confusing. Sorry for picking names that are so close together.
So, back when Minx was in the process of breaking up with me and spouted off a bunch of crazy, paranoid shit about me, it really threw me off my game. Which is to be expected – when the person who should know you better than anyone else says you’re dangerous and abusive, that’s no small thing. But I don’t think I realized just how much I internalized that idea.
Mine lets me play rougher than anyone else ever has. Last night I slapped his face; punched him as hard as I could; bit him; twisted his nipples until he was almost crying. And the vast majority of the time, he enjoyed it – but occasionally he needed to ask me to stop. And every time he said “owwww not quite so hard” or “not there, please” or “I need a break” or even tentatively put his hand up, I…stopped. Immediately and effortlessly, as though a switch had been flipped. I did not resent having to stop. I did not get so drunk on power that I decided to ignore his needs and just do whatever the fuck I wanted. I did not get so immersed in my own happy little sadistic world that I blocked out everything around me including Mine’s words and body language.
I caught myself marveling at the fact that I stopped instantly when asked to, and then I wondered why I should marvel at it because stopping when asked is just common sense, and then I realized it’s because Minx had made me feel like such a dangerous, unpredictable monster that I’d stopped trusting myself. I’d assumed that MInx must have seen something in me that even I wasn’t aware of. Certainly I’d always stopped immediately with her, but also we never played that rough. The rare times she did let me indulge my sadism a bit, I felt like something transformative was about to happen…but never quite got there. I think on some level I started thinking that the burgeoning thing i was feeling was some kind of Jekyll/Hyde werewolf deal, and that Minx sensed this and that’s why she’d always keep such a tight leash on things that I couldn’t quite get there. She knew I would turn into a horrible person and do horrible things. She knew I couldn’t be trusted to go too far.
Mine is teaching me that I’m capable of greater aggression than I’d ever realized, but I’m also a good and trustworthy person. He’s helping me heal a wound I’ve been carrying around for years and giving me more confidence in myself as a dominant. And I’m so, so grateful for that.
I wasn’t wrong about being on the edge of transformation before, mind you. When I’m allowed to let loose, I do wolf out. It’s just that my werewolf is not so much a killer as a golden retriever puppy let loose in a park for the first time – wiggly-happy and reveling in the sudden freedom, but not mean-spirited.
Mine says he’d like to get me to a point where I’m completely unguarded and unafraid and will do absolutely whatever I want to him without second-guessing myself (unless or until he says stop, obvs). I’m not sure that’s possible for me, but I love that he’s such a proactive submissive, communicating well and often and encouraging me to come out of my shell. I trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone who’s bottomed to me, and I’m beginning to finally trust myself, as well.
When I’m with him, the whole world seems to open up. This is what I’ve always wanted D/s to be: a journey you take together to brand new places. I always knew on some level that it could feel like this; it’s just that I’ve only experienced such brief, watered-down tastes of it that I’d started to think that other world was a myth or wishful thinking..
You can probably kinda see now why I’m falling in love with this boy.