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Domination

The Pedant often suggests things for us to do together in bed. Like even in the heat of the moment he’ll suggest things. And it irks me, although it probably shouldn’t.

I’m the dominant; I’m in charge. His suggestions don’t change any of this; I can and have replied to a suggestion of his with “No, we’re gonna do this other thing” and he’s never complained. And anyway I want him to tell me what he likes. Beyond the whole thing where we both should feel fulfilled in our relationship, there’s the fact that I’m a reaction junkie and my goal when we play is generally to get him to be as loud and abandoned as I possibly can. I need his feedback for this.

The problem – the petty, petty problem – is that his suggestions are often what I was going to do anyway, or else I had no specific plan and his idea seemed as good as any. And it irks me that to an outside observer it would look as though I was doing what The Pedant told me to.

It’s like when I was a kid and I got in an argument with some girl on the playground, and when I finally got fed up and stormed off she made a point of yelling “YEAH! YOU’D BETTER RUN!” loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear. It made me wonder if anyone watching genuinely believed I was leaving because she’d told me to. It made me wonder if she believed I was leaving because she’d told me to.

Anyway, on this most recent visit we were getting all hot and heavy and The Pedant said “I’d like to get you off first so I can really focus on you. If you’d like to get your toy, I’ll suck on it; I know how you love to watch that.”

So I did and he did. And I am absolutely dazzled by how far our relationship has come, because years ago I broached the topic of him sucking my dildo and he absolutely recoiled. It’s not even a realistic dildo*; it’s purple and smooth, just a piece of silicone formed into a cylinder with a slight knob on one end and a flare on the other. It would be as random and benign as him having a drinking straw or a stick of celery in his mouth. But he acted as though he would catch Teh Ghey, so I backed down.

And then one day he offered to use his mouth to wet the dildo before inserting it (and I’m a bit grossed out by the idea of saliva being all up in my business but I said yes because I wanted to see him do it). And now on his most recent visit he offered to put on a show for me and I held the base of the dildo on my pubic bone as if it were my own dick and he pumped it in and out of his mouth a few times and then lovingly wrapped his lips around the head while making full eye contact with me before sliding down the shaft again OMG.

And it would turn me on even more to ask him “do you like sucking my cock?” or to tell him he’s my good little cocksucking slut but I’m afraid this will scare him off. I gotta hold still, metaphorically speaking, and let him come to me, like a squirrel I’m trying to feed from my hand. If I move too quickly, he’ll bolt. And he’s never referred to my dildo as anything but a “toy” – never a dick or a cock or even a dildo – so I think that speaks to where his head is at right now.

I wonder if he wants to feel like my shameless little slut, ultimately? Is that the end game, here, and it’s just taking him a while to get past all his toxic masculinity stuff and embrace it? Or is the faux-llatio simply coming from a place of wanting to please me and he wouldn’t kink on being told what an insatiable cocksucker he is for me, particularly? I assume the nature of his dirty talk will keep me clued in. When we first started fucking, he would request to be tied up but that was the extent of anything. Once he got more comfortable with me he started dirty-talking and “I love being your slave like this” kept coming up. Lately he’s been hitting the idea that I can “seduce him” into acts he’d never imagined before pretty hard. Perhaps the next step will be to name the outrageous acts; to marvel at the extremities I’ve taken him to. We’ll see.

 

*Even if it did look like a dick, it’s not one. It’s odourless, flavourless silicone. So who even cares? Would The Pedant refuse to eat a cake decorated to look like a house because he’s grossed out by the idea of having drywall and bricks in his mouth?

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Smooth criminal

Speaking of being discreet about The Pedant’s and my sex life…

A while back, The Dandy brought up for some reason that The Pedant definitely doesn’t seem like someone who would ever submit. “He sure doesn’t,” I agreed, cheerfully. The Pedant is kind of a loud rude asshole to most people and if you only knew him casually it would be very difficult to imagine him shutting up and doing what he’s told, like, ever. Also he has a bit of misogyny to him; he doesn’t realize he does, and deflects any time I call him out on it, but yeah. So you really wouldn’t expect him to let a woman boss him around.

Because of the aforementioned misogyny (and because it took him years to calm the fuck down, stop trying to top me, and admit that what he really wanted was to surrender), I assume The Pedant would be mortified if other people knew what we get up to in bed. Plus, I mean, it’s basic courtesy not to gossip about one’s partner’s sexual details with other people.* So when The Dandy speculated about The Pedant’s kinks or lack of them, I revealed nothing. It’s not his business.

I was longing to tell him, though, in probably about the same way that a serial killer longs to confess their crimes so the someone can finally appreciate the incredible things they’ve gotten away with. (This is actually a thing, apparently: serial killers who were nowhere near being caught but ended up spilling the beans just because it was driving them crazy that they’d pulled off this complicated, outrageous thing perfectly and nobody knew…)

But I think The Pedant “confessed” for me when he left that butt plug in the sink last time he was over. The Dandy hasn’t said anything about it (presumably out of a sense of discretion of his own) but he definitely used that bathroom while the item was in the sink and would have seen it, and he knows I’d never wear such a thing myself, so by process of deduction…

And there have been other tiny clues that The Pedant is at least bottoming to me, like me wanting to buy nitrile gloves right before The Pedant came over, or the sheer amount of shit I would pack when we’d spend the night in a hotel or guest suite, or me being super keen for The Dandy to help me put attach points on my new bedframe when he and The Pedant are the only men in my life right now and The Dandy doesn’t like bondage.

The Dandy never did get around to adding those attach points, btw, so I looped dog leashes around each corner of the bedframe, instead, and attached The Pedant’s wrist and ankle restraints to those. And since The Pedant felt free to leave his used butt plug lying in a common area of the apartment on that visit, I’ve decided that discretion must not be that important to him and it’ll be fine to leave the leashes where they are. Which saves me some time and energy. So that’s nice.

 

*Although I’ve told friends that The Dandy identifies as dominant without feeling like it was a scandalous or overly personal thing to share. I guess because a man being dominant isn’t generally considered weird, while a man being submissive is going against the grain.

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Prissiness vs privacy

When Mine and I were seeing each other, he’d always wash the sex toys after we were done. Which was a revelation to me because nobody I’d been with before that ever did and why the fuck were these guys benefiting from my toy collection and anal expertise and then just going home and leaving me with a sink full of stuff to clean? Why should I be motivated to get them off in all my delightfully freaky ways if I know I’m gonna end up with mildly disgusting chores to do afterward?

The Pedant is no exception. I’ve even brought up to him that I’d like him to wash the ass-toys when we’re done with them and he still hasn’t; he leaves them in the sink. He’s washed stuff that goes in my vag, but apparently dealing with trace amounts of shit is just too much for his delicate sensibilities to bear.*

As you all probably know, I live with The Dandy now. The Pedant came over recently for a weekend of sexual shenanigans and I was so very curious about how he’d handle the ass-toy issue. On one hand, The Pedant doesn’t seem like someone who’d want his dude-friend The Dandy knowing about his bottom/submissive tendencies. On the other hand, The Pedant has never ever deigned to wash an ass-toy even when I’ve directly asked him to. So what would he do?

He left the butt plug sitting in the bathroom sink.

So The Pedant would rather The Dandy infer that I’d been plugging that sweet, sweet ass than nick some gloves from the box in my bedroom and give the plug a wash so we could put it back in the drawer.

Wow.

 

*And that’s another thing: it speaks volumes to me that many of my ass-play partners identified as submissive – even, occasionally, to a point of claiming that women are superior to men – and yet these guys would relegate the cleaning of their shit to me.

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Rawr.

I was texting with The Artist a bunch yesterday and he told me – among other things – that he’s very attracted to me and would be perfectly happy if things with us went in a sexual direction, but he won’t ever initiate unless I have at least once.

I said I have no problem initiating what I want, so that’s just fine by me. Then I asked him if he likes aggression/assertiveness in women generally. He said he does; he really likes when a woman knows what she wants. He added that he’s not good with pain though (I’m guessing he realized I was in fact referencing BDSM with my talk about aggression). I’d already sneakily ascertained that he’s not a masochist on our first date, though, when I told him about a Christmas-themed burlesque show I’d seen where a performer had an audience volunteer staple a string of lights to her body and he was nothing but horrified.

The Artist also mentioned, unprovoked, that he really likes the process of learning a new person’s body and what they like. That is such a perfect thing to say that it seems like a lie to get in my pants, except I can’t remember a guy ever saying it to me before; the liars always talk about giving women All the Orgasms via their own patented techniques that work on every woman, never about giving all kinds of pleasure in whatever customized way the recipient wants.

I still pretty much feel that I won’t be falling for him super hard or anything, and I hope that doesn’t end up hurting him. But I like him and the physical stuff sounds promising. I’ll probably make out with him when I see him tomorrow.

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Deluge

The suite – when The Pedant and I finally got down there – was disappointing in that it hadn’t been cleaned. The Pedant’s biggest reason for wanting a suite is his allergy to my cats; my biggest reason is how private and anonymous and clean the space is. The Pedant was like “wait, you didn’t go inspect it when you got the keys?” I hadn’t. It honestly didn’t occur to me to do so; we’ve rented suites there three times before with no issues. And by this time the office was closed so we couldn’t go complain. I took pictures of the rumpled sheets and the disgusting brownish yellow high-tide line in the toilet bowl in case I needed to prove there was an issue, and then popped back upstairs to get clean sheets and towels from our place.

We ordered in Swiss Chalet and while we ate he talked about his big plans to buy a depilator and remove all his body hair. The Pedant is hairy. Like full-body-sweater hairy. And he doesn’t like it; the hair traps sweat and makes him too hot all the time and muffles sensation when you touch him. Years ago he talked about wanting to get it all lasered off, but that costs more money than he’s ever likely to have at one time. He considered waxing but his sister the esthetician says this can lead to broken capillaries. So now his idea is to buy a device that will yank out the hairs. He’s really sensitive to touch/has a low pain tolerance so I’m frankly surprised he’d go that route, but he seems really determined.

Apparently, he’s pursuing his hair-removal dreams with new vigor lately because his live-in girlfriend, Raver Chick, is a very naturally hairy woman with hippie/dykey sensibilities and when he asked if she could maybe up her shaving game a little bit, she said “I’ll go hairless if you do” – trying to call his bluff, you see. And he was like “CHALLENGE ACCEPTED” because a) he doesn’t like his body hair anyway and b) he’s a spiteful prick. 😀

The Pedant told me, over Swiss Chalet chicken, that Raver Chick is a “hair removal is a stupid arbitrary beauty standard devised by the patriarchy!” type of person – when The Pedant has talked about wanting his body hair removed, she hasn’t really been paying attention to his practical reasons for it and just keeps saying that he shouldn’t conform to unreasonable beauty standards or whatever. “And that,” The Pedant said, “Is why I want you to be the first one to see me hairless.”

We’d talked about this before: he’s so sensitive to touch that I’m just dying to know how erogenous his body would be if I weren’t touching most of it through a blanket of hair. When this whole depilator idea came up, I asked if I could be the first to see him de-furred; the first one to touch his actual naked body and not just his pelt. He said yes right from the beginning, and I thought it was because he loves the way I touch him and wanted to experience it at a different level. It was kind of depressing to hear that he treats it like a prize he could have awarded to me or Raver Chick and he kind of arbitrarily picked me.

Oddly, during that same conversation and kind of out of nowhere, The Pedant also said “It’s too bad your other life partners are all so furry.” I was trying to figure out how he knows The Dandy is fairly hairy (also, “all” my life partners?) when The Pedant clarified that he was talking about my cats and added “I could easily live with you if it weren’t for my cat allergies.” That…is really nice to hear. I don’t think I’d want to live with The Pedant (I love him but he drives me crazy in some ways, and also he usually has more than one woman in play at any given point in his life and I’m not up for hearing him fuck other people) but at the same time I felt hurt that he never broached the subject with me. Any time he met someone he really liked, he’d start talking about how she was soooo great and she really “got” him and he could see a future and he’d probably move in with her, and he never told me any of that. So even though I didn’t want to live with him, a petty part of me was sad that he didn’t want to move in with me, either. It felt like being snubbed, like he didn’t think I “got” him and didn’t “see a future” with me.

TBH I secretly suspected that his eagerness to move in with women was more about wanting to escape his parents than about how totes in wuuuv he was with anyone. And I’m probably right. Cohabitation, too, was an arbitrary prize, and I only disqualified myself by having cats.

Anyway. Not only will The Pedant let me be the first to touch his body when it’s nakeder than it’s ever been (well, since childhood, anyway), he’s invited me to help with the actual de-furring process. My OCD revolves around picking/plucking so THIS IS RELEVANT TO MY INTERESTS. I assumed he was asking me for help out of practicality and because he knows I like doing hair removal type stuff. He’s not at all a masochist – he once practically ran across the room to get away from me after I lightly smacked his ass and he thought I might do it again – so I didn’t guess that figured into anything. I mean surely he wouldn’t want to think of me getting a kinky kick out of ripping out his body hair. Still, as we ate our chicken that night I asked him – half jokingly – how he’d feel about me tying him up to depilate him. He said “I was already assuming that’s how we’d be doing this.” …Oh. 😀

We finished our food and he wanted to shower before we got down to sexytimes. Then he invited me to shower (a delicate hint that I smelled a bit ripe, perhaps? Unclear). He ended up touching up the shaved parts of my head first (grooming seems to be his own personal OCD) as I sat in the bathtub to contain the hair-clipping mess. I got cold during this process so I took a bath after – during which, surprisingly, The Pedant hung out with me unbidden and sat on the edge of the bathtub scooping up handfuls of bubbles and rubbing them along my arms and legs and back.

And then, finally, we were in the bedroom clean and naked, sheets on the bed and restraint straps in place under the mattress (oh, yeah…I’ve been pretty consistently delegating stuff like that to him for the last few visits, since he was usually volunteering to do it anyway. So far he’s always cheerfully jumped to the tasks I request. I think he’s more-or-less my submissive, just not yet willing to formally call himself that), and I basically tackled him. I straddled him and made out with him for basically ever and then he asked “would you like me to get you off before it’s too late?” (I think he meant either “before it gets so late that you’re really tired” or “before you get me off and render me too useless to function.”). I agreed that this would be a good idea.

Honestly, my desire at that time was to tie him up, blindfold him, and use his body to get off. Like, ride him until the feel of his cock got me turned on, lie next to him and use my Hitachi to get myself close-ish, then put the Hitachi on him and hump it to completion (with his cock inside me or not; whatever worked.) But I have a hard time letting go, with him. In the past, when I’d try to incorporate the Hitachi into cowgirl sex, he’d go soft; apparently he needs a long thrusting motion to stay hard and my rapid wiggle wasn’t doing it for him. Except it’s not like he needs constant stimulation of his dick to stay hard at other times; usually he’s standing at attention the moment we start making out, before I’ve touched anything below his belly button. So it’s hard not to feel like my pleasure just doesn’t turn him on – that he thinks the way I grind up on him is stupid or I’m crushing the breath out of him or, I dunno, something.

Also…he’s gotten a lot better lately at letting my sexuality be what it is, but for a long time The Pedant acted like I was weird for needing specific kinds of stimulation in order to get off. For as long as I’ve known him, I have gotten off only via Hitachi Magic Wand (which has the power of a jackhammer and I’m pressing it against me hard and wigging it back and forth really fast), and I think he’s only seen me get off lying on my back with my legs straight out, to boot. But he’s asked me “did you come?” during PIV sex where I was on top of him and there was no vibrator or even clit-touching involved whatsoever. He’s asked me if I came when I had him bent over the edge of the bed and was standing behind him pegging him. He’s asked me if I could come from using the vibrating cock ring he bought us, which is a tiny, buzzy, ineffectual thing. He’s asked if I would come from his enthusiastic but highly inconsistent clit-licking. I dunno, man. Am I on my back with my legs out, receiving extremely consistent and intense clit-jackhammering during any of these things? No? Then NO I WILL NOT BE ORGASMING.

And on top of it all, my sexual responses aren’t functioning as well as they used to. The Dandy stays hard through anything I’m doing and once had a huge orgasm just from me wriggling around on top of him with the Hitachi on his stomach next to his cock, which wasn’t even inside me at the time, and even with him I can’t get there, lately.

So I figured there was no point in trying to use The Pedant in that way until I’ve seen a doctor and gotten some kind of treatment for my peri-menopausal(?) crotch dysfunction.

I had The Pedant do the routine that works best for me: some oral sex to get me worked up, followed by good ol’ dildo fucking/Hitachi combo. Lately he’s been thrusting the dildo a lot harder and faster than I would have ever requested; I don’t usually like being jackhammered. But it works. The hard thrusts hit my g-spot in a good way (I bet that’s been declining in sensitivity along with my clit and nipples, so it’s okay to be rougher with it now to a degree that would have hurt before) and it’s so pleasurable and so jolting that my mind can’t wander off to other things. Try as I might to start thinking about what groceries I need to get later, the thump of the toy ramming into place always brings me back. And the Hitachi combines with the g-spot stuff to put me over the freaking moon.

My orgasm was epic in length and intensity, and afterward (something about g-spot stuff during an orgasm seems to trigger All the Feels, for me) a huge wave of emotion washed over me and I shuddered and began to cry. The Pedant held me and petted me and whispered “I’ve got you,” which was he perfect thing to do and which I didn’t really expect from him. He mostly seems to regard my crygasms as foreign and kind of interestingly weird. Hugging me like that, and making me feel all safe and warm, seems entirely outside of his instincts. Maybe Raver Chick taught him to do that.

But then.

YOU GUYS.

Then.

Then The Pedant really conspicuously and deliberately positioned his lips by my ear (actually grasped my chin and tilted my head to facilitate this, as I recall) which historically has always meant that he’s about to growl in my ear or give me a dose of dirty talk or otherwise make a sort of contrived, self-conscious attempt at turning me on, and I was sort of inwardly rolling my eyes wondering why he needs to be so showy about this shit.

But instead of sexy talk he whispered “I love you.”

And I was blown away.

I mean…I know he loves me. I suspected it by his actions for ages, and then when I said the words first he said “the feelings are being reciprocated” and eventually, a year or two ago when we were breaking up for the second or third time, he said the actual words (I suspect to soften the blow of the breakup, and/or because he really seems to have a hard time saying it and it probably took a lot of pressure off, saying it as a goodbye and knowing I wouldn’t be hanging around expecting the words to be a regular thing). And frequently during our makeouts – including that night – he does that obvious dodge of saying “I love the way you kiss me” or “I love spending time with you” or “I love when you tell me what to do.”

But I have suspected for a while now that although he professes to be poly, The Pedant perhaps has a subconscious feeling that he’s only supposed to love one person at a time – to have one person who’s a big, big deal and any other partners are swell but not quite on the same level. When we first got together after he started seeing Raver Chick, he referred to him and I as being “friends with benefits,” despite acting exactly the same with me as he did back when he called me his primary partner and indicated that he loved me. And I just figured “Meh, whatever, he’s being an idiot but he still treats me nice so I’ll roll with it.”

And now, suddenly, he’s said the words unprompted and without there being some big tragedy to inspire a grand gesture. He is living with Raver Chick, and he loves Raver Chick. But also he’s seeing me and he loves me. And he admits it.

There’s more.

After I recovered from coming my brains out, I secured The Pedant to the bed, blindfolded him, slid a dildo into his ass, and started teasing his cock and nipples with my hands. Maybe the blindfold made him more unguarded because he couldn’t see if I was looking at him, I don’t know. But as I stroked his cock I murmured that hopefully one day I’ll be able to just throw the Hitachi on his belly and grind up on him – basically use his whole body as a sex toy to get me off – but for now, self-consciousness gets in the way. And in a tiny voice that I don’t think I’ve heard before and that is entirely unlike his usual loud baritone, The Pedant said “Why are you self-conscious? I’m yours.”

We were mid-handjob so I opted not to actually get into the reasons for my self-consciousness with him. I figured he was just making sex talk, and I wanted at that moment to continue enjoying his squirms and whimpers and not have some big serious discussion. Especially since a) he hasn’t done those shitty things in a long time and b) I genuinely don’t think he’d even understand why his actions affected me the way they did. He doesn’t understand even basic human behaviour and emotions sometimes. Even when it seems perfectly logical to me.

So I kept on going with the handjob and whatnot…but The Pedant kept on riffing, in that same tiny, vulnerable voice. I can’t remember what he said verbatim, but I can paraphrase:

“Remember last time we saw each other? You bent me over the couch and penetrated me. You didn’t ask first. You just did it. It was so hot that you did that. Such a turn on that you just used my body the way you wanted, without a second thought. I still remember how hard I came, knowing you had bent me to your will. I want to be your sex toy – I want to be the one who does anything you want. I love you and I want to be that for you. You’ve seduced me so much further than I’d ever believed possible…you’ve made me do things I’d never even dreamed…you make me do what you want…you make me want what you want…! …You own me completely.”

So clearly I need to blindfold him more often.

No but seriously, The Pedant’s outpouring of devotion just…gobsmacked me. And I think he meant what he said. I know he loves me. He definitely has done sexual things with me that were once beyond his boundaries, and he’s definitely more focused on my pleasure and on doing things my way in bed than he used to be (and good lord, the sex is better!). When he says he wants to do anything I want I know he actually means within his stated boundaries (that very evening, early on in the makeouts, I’d asked if I could slap his face and…actually, he didn’t say no. But he looked uncomfortable and maybe gave me the barest hint of a head-shake, and historically he has not been a masochist at all, so I went back to kissing him. But hey, does the lack of an outright no mean he might have been willing to push his boundaries and indulge me? Maybe he is willing to do “anything” for me that I’d be likely to ask for. I’m still not gonna slap him unless he indicates he wants me to, though).

And oh, I’ve wanted someone to say those things to me forever. To offer themselves up entirely for my pleasure and do what I want. My ex-sub, Mine, did that, but unfortunately we broke up before I really had a chance to stretch my wings. I’m so used to constantly monitoring in bed whether my partner is having a good time and checking in with them and focusing on them that the idea of them being there entirely as a vehicle for my good time is a huge adjustment. It’ll take a lot of time and trust before I can really grab the reins with someone and do what I want with them without second-guessing myself, but I want to. Badly. And I never expected that The Pedant would be the next person to offer himself up to me that way, sincerely and in good faith.

I look back on where we started, when he was all wrapped up in toxic masculinity and completely terrible in bed and couldn’t engage in dirty talk or mushy words to save his life, and I marvel at how far we’ve come.

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Pedant time

The Pedant and I once again rented a guest suite in my building, this time for two days. And he says he’d like to do it again in January, and hopefully every month or two going forward, which would be lovely. Although I’d like to see him in between epic sexings, too. It feels a bit too much like we’re just fucking rather than in a relationship; he doesn’t contact me much between sex-visits. Or maybe that’s me not initiating and he’s following my lead. I do love him and I believe he loves me (although, infuriatingly, he hasn’t said it to me since the last time he broke up with me).

I’ve been pretty pent up about the drama with The Dandy and Dandette – the fall-out of Drunken Horror Night and me pushing him to give her the boot and everything – so pretty much as soon as The Pedant arrived at our suite I vented to him for a bit. God, I adore him. He gets me. He sides with me unequivocally when I have issues with people (like to the point of making snide remarks about killing whoever’s bugging me), which I need sometimes – it’s just nice to revel in someone being absolutely one hundred percent pro-me and anti-everyone else. He gives good advice. He calms me down.

After I vented and he talked me down a bit he reminded me that he does have a hard time parsing emotional stuff and that in future it would help an awful lot if I could slow down and not be talking a hundred miles a minute because it takes a lot of energy and effort for him to follow everything. I don’t know if I can actually do that when I’m anxious but I do love that he told me in simple, straightforward terms what he needs from me, and that he did put forth the effort to try to keep up with me instead of just saying “Yeah I can’t deal with this. Don’t talk to me until you’ve calmed down.”

Later, lying in bed with The Pedant, I expressed worry that The Dandy won’t have the guts to oust Dandette anytime soon and I’ll lose my patience and have to bail on the relationship. I don’t want to have to leave; I love him. But there’s only so much I can take. “Well, if that happens, you’ll still have me,” The Pedant said. “I know I’m not in a position to financially support you like The Dandy is, but…” This feels like as much of a statement of commitment to me as The Pedant has ever given me. I stroked the side of his face and assured him that he is indeed important to me and I’m glad I have him.

I’m still marveling at how much less selfish The Pedant is with sexual/physical stuff these days. I don’t know what the hell happened. But he got me off several times over the course of our time together, gave me a long and excellent foot massage where he followed directions and didn’t ask “so, feeling better now?” every five seconds, and spent lots of time petting me. Also he unpacked my stuff and laid it out in logical places without me asking him to, but he’s been doing little acts of service like that for years now. I told him a while ago that if he ever wanted to be my submissive outside the bedroom as well as in it, I would welcome this. TBH it’s seemed as though he was drifting in the direction of being my service sub for a long time now but just not calling it what it is. I guess he’s still not ready because he hasn’t followed up on that conversation. But it took years for us just to get to the point of him openly submitting to me sexually, so we’ll see.

Sigh. I’m probably jumping the gun here in a major way but I totes just texted The Pedant asking if he might agree to wearing an Eternity wrist cuff (with me keeping custody of the tool that removes it). I expect he’ll say no, because it might be an awkward thing to explain to his live-in girlfriend and it might feel a bit too much like openly declaring him my sub. But he reacted so well to the idea of an anklet that you never know.

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Expansion

So I wrote to The Pedant:

Just for the record, my dream, for years now, has been to have a man who submits to me in bed but ALSO in other areas that make my life easier. A go-getter I can delegate things to (like planning outings) and he’ll present me with detailed options to choose from

I don’t presume to think that your movie-planning prowess is anything more than vanilla helpfulness.

But if you ever WANT to submit to me in a wider capacity than bedroom stuff, let me know. You would be so exactly what I want.

“So, basically, you want a house-husband,” The Pedant said. Asking for clarity about what exactly would be involved in submitting to me more, I guess. That bodes well.

I wrote another wee novel:

Well you can’t be THAT, given that you don’t live with me and I can’t support you…but elements of that, I guess, insofar as it’s possible. Reliably doing what I want, and doing so in the spirit of being in service to me.

In which “what I want” would mostly be minor fetching and carrying, making food, tech support, planning and organizing outings or other things. Maybe Googling shit for me sometimes.

And also of course all the sex. 😀

He hasn’t responded to that, and the conversation drifted off elsewhere. But that’s fine. I’m happy to have gotten my thoughts off my chest. He usually needs time to process relationshippy talk so I’ll just back off a while and see if he eventually approaches me to ask more about what I’ve said.

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