It’s Not the Uniform

December 28th, 2016

I don’t have a thing for military uniforms or police uniforms, but I do, occasionally find myself attracted to the men who wear them. Sometimes it has nothing to do with their profession, and sometimes it does. It isn’t the uniform, I rarely see them in said uniform. It has more to do with attitude, with the expression of their authority that comes across regardless of what they are wearing. I do have a thing for authority figures. That’s no secret.

Some of my more rare fantasies, that I haven’t indulged in awhile, and I’m not sure I’ve even ever posted about it, were a prisoner fantasies. Both as a military prisoner, or being arrested by a corrupt police officer. Gods, I haven’t even thought about those fantasies in ages. The military prisoner was sometimes an interrogation fantasy (caught spy). Sometimes they were more along the lines of naughty girl offering sexual favors to the authority figure to get out of trouble, like the teacher/school girl fantasies. Other times it was authority figure forcing himself on the hapless prisoner, as a slightly more power exchange-based rapey fantasy. Given all the trouble in the world, military and police, probably explains why I’ve strayed away from those these last few years.

It all comes to mind tonight because of my spiral of thoughts on the way home. The line of it was along being “inappropriately attracted” to a new(ish) cop friend of mine. I was going in a circle around that phrasing. Inappropriate because he has a girlfriend and kids (not sure who mother is), and is not poly. Arguing that being attracted to someone isn’t inappropriate unless you commit inappropriate actions based on that attraction. Then arguing that it isn’t the cop-thing that I’m attracted to, but his whole person – funny, caring, affectionate, geek, etc. When I see that he’s wearing his gun, for example, it kinda freaks me out, and the uniform isn’t especially interesting to me. But it is the air of authority he carries around that is part of the attraction.

Inappropriate or not, my attraction to him makes me feel all awkward around him when interacting out of character (tabletop gaming). He commented, when he saw the Christmas present I gave him, about deserving a hug for it. I really wanted to ask for the hug, but felt super awkward and didn’t, because I “wanted it too much.” (A feeling I think I have posted about before.) He likes giving hugs, too, it wouldn’t actually be weird for him, I’m pretty sure. But I’m over here being all awkward and shy because – attracted. Silly little imp.

Time for bed.

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Blossoming Submission

September 27th, 2012

I don’t think I did justice to the topic of my journey into submission in my long rambling post. Not sure I really did justice to any of the topics I covered, but this one struck me especially. I talked more about my development over the last few years, mixed with a few popular questions of the day, around the cyclical nature of D/s and how a strong woman can be submissive. All those thoughts about control came much later, when I finally got the language for it. But how, exactly, did the submissive grow within me to start with?

Early desires, and my most guilty pleasures, revolve around over the knee spankings. I don’t know why this came about, but it started as early as grade school with an unhealthy(or so I thought) enjoyment of the poem The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe. And in middle school blossomed into school girl fantasies that I very much enjoy to this day. With stops along the way to incorporate a Newsie spanking fantasy or two, as well.

This is where my submissive side started. A desire to bend, or be bent by, a person of authority. I was a good girl, I didn’t like causing real trouble, never got a detention, though I came close once, only got grounded once, I don’t even remember ever being spanked as punishment, though I’m sure I was when I was very young. But in these fantasies, I would get into mild trouble, and the person punishing me wouldn’t actually be angry, they’d simply be teaching me a lesson, usually in private. Punishing me for being “bad” or “naughty,” but without the public humiliation of being paddled in front of class, or others. And after I became a bit more sexually mature, I would always thank them for this lesson.

In grade school, we had a hierarchy among my friends. The one at the top of the pyramid could still the rest of us with a look, and usually a smile. I never wanted this power, but I certainly respected it. And fantasied about it. To be quelled and cowed with just a look. It made me shiver, it aroused me. It took me years to understand why. We gave him that control, and he used it, without abusing it, so he got to keep it. He ruled our part of the playground, but he was always kind and always fair. He took care of us, so we followed him. That exchange of power, so simple on the playground, and so much more powerful in a relationship, has always thrilled me. And for those who can express it with just a look, it still makes me shiver and smile.

I comment in the long rambling piece about meeting “strong men,” but what I really meant was strong dominants. Men can be strong without being sexually/kinkily dominant. And I met a woman, as well, who fit this role. I had a few boyfriends that were tops – we played physically, the only power exchange being that I was physically submitting to having things done to me. Usually things like biting, spanking, pinching, pressure points.

Then I met a couple of friends online, who, when they were dating, adopted me in a non-kinky RPG we were all playing. I still call him Daddy, or my Aussie Daddy, to this day, though it never was kink-related. When I lived with him for a (US) summer/(Australian) winter, he preferred Sir in our play. They taught me about what power exchange really felt like. I loved it, though many will say online isn’t the real thing, it was where I was first able to explore it. And explore it I did, in role play, in cybersex chats, in long-distance telephone calls. When I went to Australia, Daddy wasn’t active in the community, but we made the best of our time together. Our kink relationship was mostly physical, but I also enjoyed the bits of D/s we tossed in here and there, as well.

It was a long while before I found that again. Hubby, a sensualist, enjoyed the physical play I asked for, but D/s was not something we managed to figure out on our own. When we found the community, our explorations took different paths, as I found two dominant men that I was drawn to, and he found his own path to kink.

This blog tells the story of my journey since then, for the most part. Exploring different types of D/s and the different ways to submit and serve, learning about taking and giving control. I have tripped and fallen many times. I have had high expectations, and been crushed by reality. I have lost sight of the path and been shown the way back. I have run headlong into the darkness, and survived the fall. I have been taught, guided, chided and chastised. I have been cared for, comforted, crushed and rebuilt. I have been programmed and reprogrammed. I have experienced amazing scenes, awesome service, and incredible love, trust and understanding. Submission has always been inside of me, and these last four years have made it a rich part of my life.

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