(That’s an Emerson quote. Well, part of it. The ending is “…suffice us” but my blog is being lame and not posting such a long title correctly. Anyway, it sums up this post pretty well.)

I read a lot about rituals and rules in the BDSM world. There is one category of them that I am not really a part of. Everything from slaves having to type a certain way, or refer to themselves in the third person, or not being allowed to sit on furniture, or having to sleep on the floor, or not being allowed to drive… etc. etc. etc.

I don’t really have any of that.

BDSM is as diverse a species as the humans who employ it. For Antonio and I, our dynamic is very organic. We didn’t have labels of Dom and sub when we met. We hadn’t had major power exchange relationships in the past. We were just two people who were immediately and inexplicably drawn to one another, who fit together most naturally in a power exchange situation.

We have a mutual symbiosis. Think clownfish. You don’t have to tell the clownfish “You are a crappy swimmer. So stay close to your host or you might DIE!”

The fish just DOES it. It’s instinct. It’s natural. It knows to stay close, and that will always be its primary objective. It will vary the distance based on the need to seek out food… But if food is not an issue, that fish will stay within a couple inches of that specific anemone for its entire life.

And of course Antonio tells me to do things… But either they are standing orders that are pretty large and obviously beneficial (such as “You can’t off yourself, Chlo”) or they are once-off commands (like “Go get me a beer” or “Write me an essay on X” or “Get over here”)…

But a LOT of stuff is just a matter of mutual preference. No rules in sight.

If he’s going to hang out at his computer, and I don’t think my time is better spent cleaning or cooking for him (etc.) then I prefer to sit by him on the floor with my head on his thigh. I think he likes it too.

If he needs something, I prefer to get it for him rather than see him get up and get it himself, and I think he prefers to be waited on.

If the two of us are in a car, I much prefer be in the passenger seat and he would much rather be driving.

But I don’t have rules about those things. I’m allowed to go sit in another chair or something when he’s on his computer, he will often get himself things, and I spend a lot of time driving myself around when I have to. It’s just that in a given situation, I simply LIKE the submissive option best, so that’s what I choose.

I think he likes that I like it – that I don’t have to be forced all the time. I think he likes that, totally unfettered by protocol, I obviously enjoy belonging to him. I think he likes that he doesn’t have to create and enforce mandates to make me act subordinately – I act like it naturally.

Granted, I dunno. I’m guessing he likes it.

And… When I think about it, those kinds of rules and rituals I mentioned in the beginning are often my punishments.

When I FAIL to make the right choices or I’m in a funk and I purposely pick the wrong things, I am given mindless punishments like texting him every hour. And Jesus Christ, is that effective. There is no greater waste of my life than every 56 minutes or so having to stop what I’m doing to compose a text message. I have to time everything around it. Oh, I wanted to shower and go to the Post Office? Well, too bad! I have a fucking text due in 12 minutes so… I can either shower and not shave, and hope I make it out in time, or wait to shower until after the text is due, and then miss the Post Office. Fabulous.

(GOD I hate that punishment. HATE HATE HATE. But I realize that, for some people, that sort of thing is considered normal interaction – not even punishment!)

And most often, when we try out one of those “omg!slavey” rituals, it’s a disaster. For example, I got a text message one morning that informed me for the rest of the day, I’d be referring to myself as his cunt.

Right-o, Master.

Well, for the rest of the day, I only spoke to him when I absolutely had to. And that sucked SO much, because I didn’t pipe up and share snippets of my day spontaneously as I normally would have, and I just… Well, to be honest, I tried for most of the day to figure out how I could speak like that and not come across as a vapid twat. Turns out, I can’t.

I SUCK at sounding intelligent while referring to myself in the third person. So when I wrote him emails, yeah, I could check them over and stuff… But speaking in real-time? Yeah. Right. It sounded about like this:

• Me: “Your cunt had a good day. First I, er, she went to her friend’s house. And she said she hung out with, well, that is to say, not your cunt as ‘she’, there, um, the OTHER ‘she’, you know, my – no, HER – friend, said to her, well, in this case, ‘her’ is your cunt and… and… Uh. Um. … I give up! Oh, wait, no, fuck, fuck everything, SHE GIVES UP! Uncle. Uncle uncle uncle.”
• Antonio: “Heh. You can speak normally now.”
• Me: “Oh my God, thank you so much! That was doing my head in. ”

That sort of stuff, to me, is exactly like role-playing. I don’t get it, it’s a falsified reality that I can’t trick myself into thinking is real, and it makes me giggle because I think it’s so monumentally silly.

And it sure as hell doesn’t make me feel submissive. I feel that way naturally, so this unnatural stuff? Seems nuts. I don’t need constant reminders or fabrications like slashy typing or referring to myself in third person or being kept off the furniture.

If I lose my head, YES, I absolutely need a temporary punishment to snap me back into my natural place. But to have a whole set of rules and rituals like that on a weekly, daily, or even hourly basis? I’d feel like I was being punished 24/7. I’d be SO depressed all the time. I’d feel worthless and incapable of being a decent slave, and even a decent partner, to my Man.

It’d be like if I had to wear headphones that just played a loop all day of: “Breathe in… breathe out… breathe in… breathe out.”

First of all, I got it, thanks. This is a natural process and one that needs no constant reminders.

Second of all, actually following that “reminder” as a rule? That sort of thing would kill me. I would drown if I went under water and needed to hold my breath, or I would pass out if I exercised and needed to breathe deeper and faster.

In this case, and in the case of the slavery/rituals stuff, it boils down to the exact same thing – a very unnatural brace upon something that is, in my case, perfectly natural and steady on its own.

But… Taking the breathing thing again… If I freak out? Yeah, I want a hand on my neck pushing my head between my legs and a voice saying: “Just breathe. In and out, in and out.”

But it’s ONLY when I’ve totally lost my head that I need to be told how to breathe. And it’s ONLY whey I’ve totally lost my head that I need to be told how/when/where to submit.

Otherwise? It’s natural and I got it.

(DISCLAIMER TIME: Listen, guys. I’m HOPING you know me well enough to know that there is a reason I am bolding things like “to me” and such. But I have gotten a couple wacky comments in here from people who obviously read my posts and thought “oh-em-gee, them’s fightin’ words!” even when I really didn’t mean that. I GET, 100%, that some of you might have these sorts of rituals and you might not feel how I do. I get it. In the context of YOUR relationship, I get it. But this blog is not written from within the context of your relationship.

I’m just SHARING with you how this works/feels in my relationship, and ONLY from my point of view. Antonio might read this and think I’m insane, or order me to stay off furniture for the rest of forever. That’s his call. Anyway, this is just me, from within my relationships. If you want to share how it works in yours, feel free – I’d love to hear it. But please know this is not a debate or argument. I’m stipulating right now that we can both have different views, and both be “right” because all that matters is how it works in OUR relationships.

Additionally, if you’re into role-playing, thaz cool. It just makes ME giggle hysterically. I am open to the possibility that there are people reading my blog who can enjoy it and take it seriously enough to not fall over laughing. In fact, God, that’s awesome. How do you DO it? I seriously need to know. TELL ME.)

I got a comment from Sara of Finding Sara the other day that I wanted to answer… But I found I’d probably have way too much to say for just a comment reply. (Oh, I know, I was shocked too. I’m usually the epitome of brevity.)

Writing this post made me think. A lot. So thank you, Sara.

Hi Chloe, I have a question for you. I have for some time been trying to understand why some people choose the term “slave” to describe themselves. What it connotes to them that is different than “Submissive”. How can you be “owned” when at the end of the day, the power to submit (or not) is yours? Yes, your Master respects your limits, but if he did not…then you would change things. You agree that it IS in your power to do so. My connotation of slave was someone who was owned and had no say, no limits of their own, could be even killed if their owner decided to do so. The slaves of the south 100 years ago and the slaves in Roman times, etc…they were truly slaves. Are you not just in a relationship in which you are more submissive than I am in mine? So why call yourself slave then? I am not trying to challenge you here, but really just trying to understand. I had some of this discussion with swan sometime ago…and your post reminds me that my knowledge and understanding is still lacking. Thanks, Sara

I am going to go out on a limb here and say my answer will not reflect the views of many (quite possibly any) other slaves or submissives. I tend to invent my own ideas and theories about things, so I don’t expect this post will be enlightening on a community level. (It might not even be enlightening on a Chloe-level. We’ll see.)

I’ve struggled with how to organize my responses to the questions. Maybe I should just go in order?

How can you be “owned” when at the end of the day, the power to submit (or not) is yours? Yes, your Master respects your limits, but if he did not…then you would change things. You agree that it IS in your power to do so.

I do agree that it is within my power to walk away from this relationship. It is not within my power to reorganize the relationship dynamic, but is it in my power to up and leave? It is.

However, I don’t know that I agree that my Master respects my limits. (This has been really difficult for me to think about, and I will probably have to revisit it in the future.)

He certainly respects his limits. But mine? I don’t think so.

It may appear he does, but that is only because I committed myself to a man who shares the same core, deal-breaker limits with me. We agree that things like bestiality, infidelity, incest, suicide, homicide, pedophilia, and necrophilia are off limits, period. But he’s not respecting “my” limits, there. Not by a long shot. He’s respecting his own. That’s why, for me, it was so important to find a man who felt this way. I would never have been able to truly belong to a man who didn’t. And my goal was never qualified submission. It was being owned.

I’ve written for a LONG time, writing and backspacing, about my other “limits” and I realized I’m not quite ready to have that discussion. I can’t make myself clear because I’m not clear in my head. My apologies for that, but it’s something I’ve got to think about a lot more before I know how to discuss it. It’s not even that relevant… well, yes it is very relevant… But, A-N-Y-W-A-Y…

My connotation of slave was someone who was owned and had no say, no limits of their own, could be even killed if their owner decided to do so.

To me, that’s just a connotation of slavery, not the connotation. The nuanced and personal nature of connotations means that words and phrases and ideas can have different meanings across societies, communities, individuals, and situations.

Granted, if someone says “a slave” outside the BDSM lifestyle, the most likely connotations coming to mind are that of the enslavement of Africans in the Americas, the products of Mesoamerican wars, the conquered peoples in the Roman Empire, etc. You’re exactly right. That’s a majority-of-the-time type of connotation.

But of course I am not a slave in the way the slaves of the south or the slaves in Roman times were slaves. For a thousand reasons, no, it’s not like that. And by saying I am a slave, I am not trying to equate myself with people who were forcibly enslaved and were the victims of unspeakable acts.

Just as equally, when I say slave… I am not referring to slaving a hard drive, a slave clock that answers to a master clock, the band Slave, or the card game.

I’m referring to a dynamic in a romantic relationship. Now, of course, the question remains… Why is THAT the best term for my dynamic? Why NOT submissive?

(This “ways the word slave is used” discussion leads me to an idea…. You know how some people equate owning animals as a form of slavery? Maybe that’s the best way for me to say “THAT kind of slavery.” I really am his pet. Alive and free-thinking. Devoted and dependent. The choice, at the end of the day, is mine whether I want to stick around. But without him? I’ve been domesticated. I’ve been trained. I could run away, but I’m REALLY dependent on him. And I want and need to stick around and be owned, much more than I want or need any kind of freedom that he doesn’t grant. I want to be fed and be loved and feel safe and protected and cared for by him. And I might not like performing all of the tricks, but I LOVE the look on my Master’s face when I do.)

So why call yourself slave then?

Well, I already talked about the pet/slavery idea briefly. But there are other reasons.

For one thing, if you look up definitions for the terms, based on the denotations of the words and my personal feelings, I feel I am primarily a slave, not submissive.

The second definition Merriam-Webster has for a slave is: “one that is completely subservient to a dominating influence.” And yes, exactly. That’s me.

Submissive is a bit harder to find an accurate definition because it gets thrown around as a noun, and it’s not. It’s an adjective. I’ll use its main entry, “submit.” Some of the definitions (like presenting something, as in “I’m submitting this for approval”) clearly make no sense. Ones like “to yield oneself to the authority or will of another” sound really close, right?

But those definitions are semantically equated with surrender. In fact, “surrender” is right there in the dictionary entry as a definition for the word “submit.”

And that’s not what my relationship is. This is not, primarily, a relationship built on surrender. To me, this is a relationship built on belonging.

In short, I see it as such: One who is a slave belongs to another. One who submits, surrenders to another. I belong to my Master. Do I submit to him sometimes – am I conquered? Yes. But is that my main relationship dynamic? No. Belonging to him, being owned by him, is.

I’m not saying I’m going to achieve a perfect state of “being property” (though I’d like to). I’m not saying I’m a slave in the way the slaves of the south were.

I guess all I’m saying is this: I don’t look at him and think “I submit to him” or “I am submissive to him.” I look at him and I think “I belong to him.  He owns me.”

That’s the difference, to me.

(There is probably a whole lot more I could say.  There are a million other thoughts in my head… But for tonight, that’s what my muddled and tired brain is thinking.)