There is a life that is led by people who live BDSM that is not covered in 50 Shades of Grey or Spare the Roses Give Me the Thorns.
I often speak about how wonderful BDSM is, and how much a good caning will right what ails me, but a real-time BDSM relationship is more than whips and chains.
When a couple doesn’t live together, it is rather simple to carve out segments of time to do kinky things to one another. You block off 6 hours, you meet at the location that has the fewest distractions and you commence to smacking and cumming and oohing and ahhhing. You then hop into the shower and go home – back to reality.
That’s not life under the same roof – well not exactly.
It is a simple thing to submit in those limited engagements, where there is a well-defined time limit. If check out time is noon you understand no matter what paces he puts you through, there is an end in sight.
When you live under the same roof, shit gets real, swiftly. All of those proclamations you made in the heat of your orgasm induced compliance are put to the test, are worked over like a 60-year-old whore, and suddenly being a weekend warrior becomes MUCH more attractive.
A BDSM relationship is —- wait for it —- A RELATIONSHIP.
With any relationship there are highs and lows, ups and downs, and who you are: your strength, your character, your ability to stand (or kneel) gets tested. When housekeeping comes and cleans your bathtub, and removes the dirty towels, you forget that in your own home someone (read YOU) has to do that.
When room service delivers that medium rare steak that melts in your mouth, you forget that in your own home someone (read YOU) has to do that.
Someone has to pay the bills
Someone has to pretreat the laundry, fold and iron it
Someone has to get the kids out and off to school and help them with long division
Then at the end of the day someone has to suck a dick.
That shit right there is not someone most people are prepared for when you make the transition from, weekend participant, to full-time.
If you are on the top half of the couple, you never get a moment where you can just say fuck it, because the moment you do, your bottom is there – looking at you – going what the fuck?
So many of us come to this lifestyle, looking for an escape from the vanilla – only to discover that the vanilla never leaves.
It gets dolled up in latex and barbed wire, but it is always there, because life is always there.
Where BDSM can help, and D/s can help, is that most often there is an established hierarchy. One leads – one follows.
When you respect that balance, when you respect those roles, the transition from part-time to full-time gets a little simpler.
You aren’t arguing over why he never picks up his socks or his soggy towels because you understand it is your job to do the picking up.
You aren’t arguing over why he never cooks dinner because well shit sometimes you don’t feel like it – because you understand it is your role to cook dinner and on the occasion you are relived of that duty it is a reward or a treat that you’ve earned.
There is also that adjustment to never going to bed alone, or as I like to call it sleep sharing.
It’s all fun and games until the snoring and the farting starts. Every night.
Sometimes we look at living together as a big huge fairy tale! I get to be flogged every night!
Then you realize in a week or two that all of that energy and excitement you had when you had scheduled date time is difficult to maintain when you are both coming in from 8 hours of work, and 3 hours of school, and the new episode of Homeland didn’t record properly.
Can you stand when the kitchen sink is backed up, but he still wants some anal?
Can you stand when you’ve borrowed from Peter to pay Paul, but Robert is still there with his handout and you’ve run out of funds?
Can you stand after you’ve shoveled 23 inches of snow and you still have to take the kids sledding and you forgot to take the chicken out of the freezer to defrost?
It’s easy (in comparison) to obey part-time.
But what do you do when you’ve told him how you hate that he comes into the bathroom with you, and he does it anyhow because he enjoys your discomfort?
I don’t want to make it sound like living together is a curse to a happy relationship. I am simply sharing some thoughts that we forget sometimes because we are caught up in the romance of doing this thing that we do only part of the time.
Respecting the roles helps but it doesn’t assure a smooth transition. Nothing will make the transition smooth besides the determination of the people involved, and even then…. shit happens.
What do you do when … shit happens … and leaving is not an option?just a little food for thought there