We’ve been talking about that–or I have–since we began playing with Domination and submission.  I haven’t been sure about the “s-word” (Sub, slave, slut–take your pick, I objected to all of them.)

He wasn’t sure about the s-word either: Switch.  That’s what I called myself, when I could get away with it, and that’s how I thought of myself for some time. (Although in practice–“unh, not so much,” as a friend says.)

 I finally found someone who explained how I feel better than I could.  So I’m a sub with attitude–I want to be me.  That sounds about right. 

 A friend of mine once said that BDSM is what everyone does . . . formalized.  In the end, if it doesn’t fit how you are,  how you really are . . . it won’t work.  It takes awhile though to see what works and what feels . . . “unh, not so much.”

A loooong talk last weekend.  We’ll try the switching thing–we just won’t trumpet it.  And meanwhile . . . I’m still figuring out what kind of submissive I am, really.  I don’t like the idea that I do or will obey just because.  I HATE it when he predicts what I will do.  And I hate it when he tells me what I’m like, or should be like.  My appetites have grown and shifted as we’ve explored our little golden, perverted cage . . . but it seems we’re both happier when we push the boundaries at the right pace.  So he doesn’t know what pace that is?  Neither do I.  But . . . we are learning.