Added: Bethany Neale - Date: 10.09.2021 10:49 - Views: 37082 - Clicks: 610
I have always been a Bratty Submissive. I have been since my first tentative steps into the kink community. Self-identified Bratty Subs were the first Submissives I encountered in my early days on Tumblr, and I quickly jumped into the fray.
I never expected that to change. I went into the interaction with them with the plan to write an article about what it was like for me as a Brat to share a space with a Master and his Slave for the night. I came out feeling changed. Watching the Slave interact with her Master was something beautiful that I had not had the opportunity to witness before. Of course, I had occasionally come across slave-types in my journeys across the Internet. But I saw less of them than I did my fellow Brats—both fewer of them in and less of their practice in what they chose to share.
And it left me wondering: Could this be for me? Coming to know yourself as a Submissive is part of a long, laborious journey of self-reflection. Not doubting yourself or your practice comes from exploration and experimentation. And yes—sometimes it comes from trying something new because it looks fun.
I wanted to know myself completely. I wanted to know for sure if being a Slave was a sex slave kink that I wanted to follow. I wanted to understand myself better because I believed it would make me more ready and able to submit on my own. It bugged me. Walking away from the scene, I revisited it again and again in my head, and I felt a pull. In an unprecedented development, I found myself yearning for more structure in my practice; wanting to serve in the same beautiful way I had seen in that bedroom.
Several weeks later, it was still on my mind. And I had finally had enough. I broke down and reached out to the same couple, asking if they would be open to the idea of taking on another Submissive for a month-long trial. To my delight, they agreed to my terms—with the caveat that I had to respect their privacy and anonymity when writing sex slave kink article. Beyond that, nothing was off limits.
Lockdown ensued, keeping me shut up in my house for what would have been my contract term. We decided to take the same approach that corporate America was taking through the crisis and work from home. Or, in my case, train from home. And, just like that, my friends became the Master and my co-Submissive.
At least for the month. Long enough for me to explore a new role and to rule it out as being my calling. I began my Slave training with a week of conferences, negotiations and contract-reading. The Master led the process by doling out orientation asments and facilitating ways for us to get to know each other in this new was—because, although we had all known each other for years, being let into this private side of their lives was something new for all of us. I was anxious. I was excited.
And, as much as I was anxious and excited, I was also impatient. I thought the first week would never end. Would I ever be done with the endless discussions?
Or answering questions about my health issues, interests, and limits? I was ready—or I thought I was. But was I really? Looking back, I realize that there was a function to these multilayered practices. Because, even if I was entering the contract partially as research for an article, I was still new to the kind of role I would be playing. More than that, I was new to this ground-up approach to kinks. Any other time I had entered a kink-based relationship, I had gone into it knowing what role I wanted to play and expecting the Dominant on the other side of the experience to fill in the blanks for me.
Negotiation for those scenes and arrangements was sometimes as brief as a few minutes, a handful of texts or s back sex slave kink forth. And all of the preemptive conversation was focused on sex. No one had ever asked me about my history as a Submissive or my personal interests—and I had never thought to ask them either. This, though? This felt like the real deal. In addition to helping my Playmates and me get to know each other in a of important ways, the negotiation and paperwork process turned me on. Knowing that this much effort had been put into the onboarding process, imagining the other Submissives who had gone through the same paperwork with them in the past, and seeing the possibilities of future interactions that were laid out in front of me—it simultaneously wet and more impatient.
It also turned me on to know that someone was listening to me throughout the process. Not so with this Master. And all of that was granted. More than that, it was written directly into my contract, incorporated into my role with clear guidelines on how it would be carried out. There were certainly points at which I felt overwhelmed with everything I had on my plate.
So, I felt new to the whole process, and I got lost in it. I had to spend ten minutes weekly training my ass, my cunt, and my mouth with dildos sex slave kink plugs. All without cumming.
It sounds fun on its own, but the addition of the risk of punishment each week added just enough edge to the experience to make it positively thrilling. The experience of the first week was amazing, blissful. But I had reservations. And I still had impulses.
I still struggled with my Inner Brat. I found myself acting out when I wanted a specific kind of attention. I would call my Master by his name.
I would curse with reckless abandon. I would do things I knew would get me in trouble. Sometimes my Master would indulge me, giving me the occasional warning or reprimand. But, after a few days, the lenience stopped. Because giving me the attention I wanted from it only encouraged the naughtiness. And, worst of all, because I had words to ask for attention when and if I wanted it…and he expected me to use them. As a Brat, you know how the game works. If you want a spank, you say a curse word. If you want to be treated roughly, you refuse to do your chores.
If you want attention, you demand it. Not with this Master. There was no way to get a rise out of him; he stayed cool, calm and collected all the time. No matter what. And it drove my Inner Brat crazy. I would act out and, if the transgression was sex slave kink enough, he would ignore it and continue the conversation. If not, he would correct me, ask me to cite the rule I was breaking, and wait for me to recenter myself before carrying on.
In contrast to how quickly he wrote my desires into the contract before the games began, he was now asserting Dominance by not stooping to my level. He knew what I wanted and made sure not to give it to me.
It threw me for days.
And, although he told me just to ask for attention when I wanted it, it still never occurred to me that perhaps behaving and listening were the keys to getting everything that I craved. Week 2: The Green-Eyed Monster. Leading into week, the other shoe dropped and the Sub Bliss started to fade away.
I still found myself someone captivated with the constant pursuit of attention from my Master and was—at this point—still very much insistent on getting it on my own terms, failing to see that that was just not going to happen until I was ready to communicate what I wanted and why.
And, to top that off, I ran into some unexpected issues in my social life with my co-sub. This was gut-wrenching.Sex slave kink
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