The Four Archetypes of my Submission

It’s the penultimate day of my adventure through Kayla Lords and John Brownstone’s 30 Days of D/s programme, and today is all about exploring what kind of submissive or Dominant you are. Are you a slave, a pup, a kitten, a brat, a little, or something else?

Two rubber ducks, one red and decorated like an angel, and one black and decorated as a devil. For a post on submissive archetypes.

I can be lots of different things when I’m submitting. It depends on the mood, the activity, the partner I’m with… all kinds of factors are at play. There are definitely some themes which crop up again and again, though – and today I wanted to share the archetypes I tend to embody when I’m in my submissive role.

The Good Girl

This is where my service submissive gets to go to her happy place. Fundamentally, when I’m in Good Girl mode, I want to please the person I’m submitting to. I want to be praised and given verbal and non-verbal affirmation that I’m doing a good job.

What to say when I’m in this mood: “You’re such a good girl. Sir is so proud of you.” What not to say: “That’s not good enough, I am disappointed.”

The Victim

This is where the darker side of my kinks comes out to play. This is the place for consensual non-consent, fear play and all those other delightful dark, twisted corners of my fantasies. In this mood, I want to be taken. I want to be victimised. I don’t want softness or concern or mercy… I want to be an object for the other person’s desires.

What to say when I’m in this mood: “Shut up, I’m going to do it to you whether you scream or not.”
What not to say: “Is that okay? Do you want me to go gentler?” (Unless said in a sarcastic/mocking tone, maybe. I have a safeword if it’s not okay!)

The Willing Sex Slave

This is the space where I just want to sexually service my partner and get fucked. This is definitely the most purely sexual of my submissive archetypes. It’s where I’m not so fussed about pain or sensation or roleplay, I just want you to use my body to get yourself off. (And maybe give me a few dozen orgasms in the process.) I want to suck you off and hear you moan about what a good fucktoy I am. I want to have my legs spread and feel your fingers probing into my cunt while you make fun of my wetness.

What to say when I’m in this mood: “You’re going to suck my cock for as long as I like and if you’re lucky, I might fuck you afterwards.”
What not to say: “I suppose we can get you off if you really want.” (Clue: acting like my pleasure is a chore = not sexy.)

The Brat

I love bratting occasionally. It doesn’t come out very often, but mostly when I’m in a very silly or playful mood. When I’m in this space, I want to be tamed into submission by someone who takes the brattyness as a challenge. I want them to pin me down while I’m giggling and struggling and trying to run away. I want them to try to intimidate me into telling them where I’ve hidden their favourite whip. (Not that I would EVER do this. Honest!)

What to say when I’m in this mood: “If you don’t start behaving I’m going to take off this belt and beat you into submission.”
What not to say: “Ugh, I hate brats, why can’t you be a proper submissive?”

How about you, dear friends? Which submissive archetypes do you embody when you play?

Kinky item of the day: NeonWand! I love electro play. It can be painful, sensual, teasing, sexy or any combination of things. And as long as you follow the instructions carefully and communicate, these kits make it a lot safer than you might think. This Kinklab kit is a good alternative to an original Violet Wand, which can run to hundreds of pounds for even a basic model.

The image featured in this post was reproduced under Creative Commons Licensing.  

Why Vanilla Sex Can Be Scarier Than Kink

Doing something a bit different with my #KinkMonth post today, and talking about… vanilla sex! Today’s prompt, which comes as ever from Kayla Lords’ awesome 30 Days of D/s, deals with introducing kink to a previously vanilla relationship. Kayla and John say:

“Everyone is at a different point in life. Some people are married and happily kinky. Others are happily kinky but still single. And some find themselves thinking about kink while worrying about how to tell their vanilla partner. At some point, we can all find ourselves in a similar situation.”

Two vanilla pods resting on a small brown dish of what appears to be sugar, plus another pod to the side of the dish.

Now I’ve actually never been there. I’ve never been in a truly vanilla relationship. Therefore, today I’m going to talk about my relationship to the V Word. (No, not virginity. This one’s about something that exists.)

You might be unsurprised to know that your girl over here, who runs a blog called “Coffee and Kink,” doesn’t have vanilla sex that often. The vast majority of my sex involves some kind of power exchange element, though the level varies depending on my mood and my relationship with the other person.

What might surprise you is that I love vanilla sex. Not all the time – it’d bore the pants off me (um, as it were) if I had it too often! I need at least chocolate sprinkles the vast majority of the time. But what might also surprise you – it certainly surprised me when I realised it – is that vanilla sex can sometimes feel scarier to me than kink play.

No role to hide behind.

In vanilla sex, I’m just me. In a kink scene, I can be a victim, a willing slave, a feisty brat or a good girl. But in plain old sex, I’m just Amy, with all the roles and pretenses stripped away.

This is a profoundly vulnerable place for me to go to. To let someone see me – really see me, stripped back, with no role to hide behind – can be terrifying. That’s why, paradoxically, I’ll do kinky shit with fairly casual partners but only completely vanilla sex with someone I deeply love and trust.

With no-one to tell me what to do, the insecurities start to creep in.

When I’m submitting, I feel confident that I’m doing what my Dominant partner wants. I am literally doing exactly what they tell me to do. I don’t have to make decisions and I can relax into the safety of letting somebody else be in charge. When I’m Dominant, I don’t have to feel guilty about asking for what I want, because that’s the entire damn point. I’m also hyper tuned in to my partner’s reactions, because it is my responsibility to keep them safe.

In vanilla sex, with nobody to tell me what to do, the doubts start to creep in. Am I doing this properly? Are they having a good time? Do they like what I’m doing and will they tell me if they don’t? And on the flip side, without a veneer of Dominance to hide it behind, asking for what I want is fucking scary. When I’m fucking someone as an equal[1], I worry about coming across as too bossy, too demanding, too needy if I ask them to go harder, faster, slower, more gently, a little to the right.

Kink gives me a huge amount of permission to lie back and have things done to me without worrying, or to ask for exactly what I want without apology. In a vanilla setting, I have to grant myself that permission without a role to do it for me. Sometimes, taking that permission slip can be surprisingly scary.

Vanilla is not “plain” and it’s not lesser.

Vanilla sex isn’t the easy option for people who are too repressed or boring or inexperienced for kink. Like its namesake, vanilla is a complex and delicious flavour. Vanilla sex can be loving, affirming, sensual, playful, serious, funny and just plain hot. And sometimes, being just yourself with no other character or role to hide behind, can be the scariest place to go.

[1] Of course we’re always equals really, but D/s involves a facade of inequality in order for the game to work.

Kink item of the day: a Dragon Tail! (I have no connection with this company, I just love their stuff.) (Disclaimer: dragon tails can be dangerous. Have someone teach you how to use one properly and get appropriate practice before you try one on a person!)

The image featured in this post was offered for use via Creative Commons Licensing.

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Origin Story

It’s #KinkMonth at Lovehoney this month, so to celebrate I am doing posts inspired by Kayla Lords’ 30 Days of D/s and also taking the opportunity to share a favourite kinky product or item each day.

Today, the prompt is all about submission. Kayla and John ask:

Does a submissive have certain behaviors? Do submissives do specific tasks? When you think of a submissive and submission, what thoughts come to mind?

The Bible open at the first page of Genesis. For a post on my kinky origin story

So, with this in mind, I thought I’d tell you all about my origin story, or the collection of moments that led to my realisation that I’m (primarily) sexually submissive.

[Fair warning: I’m going to talk about my early experiences a bit, some of which happened before I was 18 and some of which took place in abusive dynamics. I invite you to take care of yourself and only carry on if you feel you can cope with this today.]

I was sixteen[1 ]the first time a boyfriend held me down and spanked me. In our baby-kinkster, toe-in-the-water fashion, we were doing schoolgirl/teacher roleplay, and the spanking didn’t hurt. It was very gentle, but I didn’t want pain-pain. Not then. It was the idea of the spanking rather than the physical sensation that I wanted. But I got the hell off on the power dynamic, the feeling of being helpless, the feeling of being led along and not having to do anything except what I was told.

We played those power games more and more often in our sex life over the next few years. I tried to be the Dominant, the Mistress, the Teacher once or twice, but it usually ended up with us in fits of giggles and no orgasms.

By eighteen, we’d mostly moved away from explicit roles and further into simply hard, dominant fucking, laced with tinges of humiliation and a whole lot of filthy talk. We occasionally tried to have stare-into-each-other’s-eyes-and-make-sweet-love-by-candlelight sex. And you know what happened when we did that? I was bored. Didn’t come. Didn’t feel fulfilled. What I wanted was for him to just throw me down on the bed and fuck me until I knew I’d be sore the next day.

At nineteen, we went to an event, a glorious weekend where we were shocked and delighted to discover there were others like us. It was a THING. It had a NAME.

BDSM. The letters felt weird in my mouth. Kink. That was better. I could get behind the idea of calling myself kinky. It spoke to me in the same way the word “queer” had, even before I knew what it really meant. It spoke of something different, of something outside and other and exciting.

I learned glorious things that weekend. I learned about fetishes and perversions and fun that I didn’t know existed. Someone pulled out a knife in the toybag show-and-tell, and I at once winced and leaned forward in my seat, asking, “what do you do with that?” I learned what a pinwheel is. I saw a flogger for the first time. A little while later, I felt its sting across my back in the bedroom of the pretty, much older Dominant guy and his beautiful girlfriend [2]. In that little room, I learned how much pleasure can come from just the right amount of pain.

We went home. We bought a crop and a collar. A few months later, we went to our first Club, where I got my breasts out in semi-public for the first time. I wanted more and more and more. Not necessarily more extreme, but more exploration. More adventure. More of this.

Until he didn’t want it any more. It was too much effort. He just wanted me to shut up and let him fuck me until he was satisfied. It had all been a mistake. My kinks were too much, too complex, and too weird.

I told him I respected that, but I needed to fulfill my kinky needs in my other relationships. He told me I was broken. Wrong. Damaged goods, if I needed someone to spank me and call me filthy names to get true sexual satisfaction.

I nearly believed it, but I knew better by that time. I knew what I was. It had a name.

Kinky. Submissive. Yes. In submission, I found – find – peace. A home. A place of complete belonging and safety.

Kinky item of the day: LUBE! Essential for those long, glorious fucking sessions. If you visit Lovehoney and spend £30 or more in their bondage store, you’ll get a FREE Lubido lube (which is water based and contains no parabens) with your purchase!

[1] Age of consent in my country is 16.
[2] Hello, Fondlebeast and Twistergirl! <3

A couple of notes:
1. This post contains affiliate links. Buying through them supports my work.
2. Yes, the picture that comes up is a page from the Bible. It came up when I searched “Origin Story” on Pixabay and it made me giggle, so it stays. Please direct all complaints via Twitter. As ever, image provided under Creative Commons Licensing.