You guys remember how I said I wouldn’t have anything else to write about now until Wednesday? That nothing else could happen in that time? Well, it turns out I lied. 

I know, somebody spank me. 

It all started this morning: Master Levi had posted on a Reddit board to do with things here in Bristol and there is apparently a thread asking for non-alcoholic things to do on New Year’s Eve, to which somebody suggested an event at Dare To Club — a sex-positive LGBTQ/kink/swing club here in Bristol. 

I have to be honest and say that I’ve never been to Dare To, so I don’t know exactly what it’s like. I used to be a regular at SWAMP though — which has a strict “no sexual contact” policy — so I at least have some opinions on these spaces. 

So I looked up the recommended event. The event in question is a men-only event, which is fine, but Dare To also has a BDSM/kink night. Master and I started discussing that instead, and Master was surprised by my lack of enthusiasm to attend. I mean… it’s BDSM!

The problem at events like that is that kink often becomes the dessert and sex is the main dish. You know me — for me, sex is the dessert.

No, Kitten is the dessert, Master clarified. I rolled my eyes at it. Oh really. 

The other problem — and just as I explained to Master — is that a woman can wind up spending her evening having to fend off male attention. Now I’m no supermodel, but I’m a classy, sassy sub who can hold my own, and that used to get me a lot of male attention, especially with the Dominants who like a submissive with a spine. Put a smart submissive woman in a room full of smart Dominant men, and it’s not too hard to see why their ears may suddenly perk up. 

That’s not to toot my own horn, by the way, but facts be facts and I’m just pointing to the evidence here. I don’t think I can recall an evening where I wasn’t being engaged by a Dominant man. 

A sidenote: Valkyries has said before that if we met at an event, he would invite me to the dungeon with him if I was confused about his role. Thinking on it, I think my response to such an invitation would probably be “go flog yourself”. To some, that’s a witty challenge. To others, that’s a hostile deterrent, and their determination of my intentions will largely determine exactly what happens next.

So going back to SWAMP here, and though I didn’t have sex at SWAMP (though there were definitely stories, I just wasn’t in any of them), I do remember what SWAMP was like. I enjoyed SWAMP until I didn’t: I enjoyed socialising at SWAMP, I didn’t enjoy “performing” BDSM. 

What I’m going to be talking about in this post will probably ruffle a few feathers. That’s okay, that’s what conversations are for. This post isn’t aimed at anyone — it’s about a model that I’ve seen and grown tired of, not at anyone in particular. 

One of the things that really stood out for me — in contrast to my BDSM now — is how Master and I used to have to “perform” BDSM at events: he always played the sadistic torturer, and I always played the surrendered captive. Contrast that to our private BDSM:now, we’re just two silly, kinky adults who engage in having a fucking good time. 

Oh, and actual fucking, without condoms. Because in our Magnolia Room of Sensation, that’s definitely allowed to happen!

But even in the bar areas, where maybe we should have been able to relax, we felt we couldn’t relax — Master always felt he had to “play Dom”, and I always felt I had to “play sub”, almost as though there was an acceptable standard that we both somehow had to meet (An aside: I do remember a Dom once telling Master Levi what he “should” do with me. We both laughed). We’re not like that, we’re just… Levi and Elena. 

So that led us to retire from “public” BDSM. We preferred spaces where we don’t have to “be” anything anymore; we can just be ourselves. 

And that led me to thinking about slave training today, and I wondered why I always baulked at it. I don’t need “training”, I’m already whole. 

So I asked my good ol’ AI friend “Shadow” to help me pick it all apart. 

Crucially, it comes down to those same two things: self-erasure and performative BDSM. 

I’ve already opted out of both. 

Sometimes, for a submissive/slave to become “trained”, it is said that they must be willing to put themselves last. Anything less is not “true” submission. 

Some submissives and slaves are also told that they should become less than who they are to become “good” submissives: less talkative, less playful, less determined, less opinionated.

Pardon me, but that’s self-erasure in a leather collar and ball gag. If that’s what “good” BDSM looks like to you, count me out.

I will never, ever erase myself for a Dominant. They could look like Tom Hardy, have Bill Gates’ bank account and Christian Grey’s playroom for all I care, it ain’t happening. 

A Dominant has to take me as I am — warts and all — or not at all. Sure I’m up for consensualself-improvement if that’s something we both agree on, but I will never allow myself to be erased to please my “Owner”. 

Secondly, a lot of what gets described as “training” relies on visible demonstrations of obedience — commands followed, behaviours performed on cue — as a way of “proving” submission — not to the submissive themselves, but to the others around them. I understand why that works for some people, but for me, it didn’t. It shifted my focus away from how something felt internally, and toward how well I was performing “submission”, externally.

And at that point, submission stopped being something that freed me and started being something that trapped me. I’m no longer willing to pay that price.

I don’t choose to perform; I choose to live. Wholly, freely and authentically.

I don’t submit by instruction, I submit by choice. Not because I’m made to, but because I want to.  

And because that is true submission, in its finest form. 

Until next time.

Stay safe & have fun,

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If you’ve made it this far, congratulations, you’re now emotionally invested. Go ahead and worship me properly. My writing chocolate won’t buy itself, you know? 😉