Pet Names

It took me just two days to get shot of Chris. It’s sad, sure. but I starting to get a bad feeling, a little inkling of the ick factor.

Pardon me, but I link “babe” with stupid, and my sapiosexual ass doesn’t do stupid. Babe lacks creativity, ingenuinity, originality. It doesn’t relate to me or me as a person in a relationship, it’s so… generic. That’s the bit perhaps that also gets my back up: Is it generic because there is someone else in the picture? Are you using generics so you can avoid making mistakes?

I have trust issues, sure, but then if you’ve been cheated on before, you’re going to have your hackles up. You don’t want to and you certainly don’t mean to, it’s just hard to trust sometimes. You need signs that people are trustworthy, and when they’re doing random spells of no contact and never saying your name (or an original petname)? It smells a bit off. Primal instincts and all of that.

Second, Chris said a few times that I would be good or I’d be punished. I mean that’s cute, but it’s also tedious. Do as I say or be punished? Whatever happened to discussion, negotiation and compromise? This pet doesn’t just do as she’s told and both of my Sirs know that. I play and I obey – just.

I should admit here, sometimes there’s a kind of emotional release for me that happens in response to Dominance to my resistance. Sometimes my resistance comes from a place of protection, perhaps from not being ready or able to completly trust my partner with my raw and vulnerable self, at least not in that moment. I know now that a lot of my resistance to Dominance stems from my childhood, from numerous medical tests ordered and imposed upon me against my will by a neurotic mother and a controlled, military-style upbringing which resulted in extreme co-dependency in early adulthood, followed by confidence, independence and a strong resistance to feeling (unconsensually) controlled later on. Again I thank slave Shae for modelling the therapeutic journey to me between opression and release through BDSM. Although our stories and experiences are different, there is sense of familiarity and sort of sisterhood between us.

Although I can submit, I need to feel free at the same time. I need to know that I am there because I want to be, not because I ‘have’ to be. I need to be reminded of that sometimes, that I am there by choice, that all that happens to me happens because I want it to, because I chose for it to, because I consented to it happening. It’s also why I don’t do punishment scenes – I was punished enough as a child, often for the most trivial reasons.

That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy playing rough sometimes though, or that I haven’t been curious about domestic discipline before. I think it would create a perpetual fear of doing wrong again though, and create a shift in power dynamics that we wouldn’t want in the long term. Fun for an afternoon maybe, but not a way of life for us.

I think.

Third, everything with Chris seemed to centre around sex. I get it, I’m a sexy, sensual woman and a sex blogger, but there is still a lot more to me than just, uhh, sex. I’m a dog mom, an aquarist, a housewife, a cook. I do other things and have other experiences that sometimes I want to talk about or share instead. Even in my blog work, I share the adverts that I have created with Matt and Bill and I share the pride of my work with them. I didn’t feel that pride from Chris though and my God, I craved it so bad. I love it when my partners are proud of me because it’s not something I had growing up and lt’s not something that I can get at my family home even now. I’m proud of myself, don’t get me wrong, but having other people who are proud of you too just validates that pride, It validates that you have something to be proud of and assures you that you are confident, not arrogant. When your family puts you down and dismisses you, having your own army of cheerleaders means everything. It helps strengthen your self-esteem.

But the last time with Chris was “yeah good baby girl”, and then back to talking about sex. It made me feel objectified, again.

I don’t want to be just another notch in the bedpost, I value deep connections and commitment. I value trust.

So while he was busy elsewhere doing whatever (or whoever) again, I slipped away.

I feel shitty, sure, because ghosting sucks and I don’t generally recommend it. But then, and for he reasons stated above, I also didn’t feel as though I had something worth fighting for. I didn’t feel as though I had someone who really wanted a commitment with me so much as one from my body. I’m worth a lot more than that.

I am a bit sad in a way because he had brown eyes and tattoos that had an appeal to me, for reasons we don’t need to go into. There was also a moment we talked fantasies and Chris told me that “I’d love to perform some experiments on you” and I had to grip the kitchen counter to steady myself. Letting go of him felt like letting go of exploring that fantasy once more.

By nightfall Matt and I talk about pet names, and of my adversion to being called ‘babe’.

“Is babygirl any better?” he asks.

“Somewhat preferable?” I shrug. Alright, so I’m downplaying that one. I know he’s not keen.

“It just makes me think of that… what was his name?”

“Massimo” I reply. Don Massimo Torricelli, from 365 Dni.

“Right” he says, “babygirl” he adds in an awful, aggressive fake-Italian accent.

It hurts in a way because it was a joke that I was going to have with Chris. That, when he finds me (when we met), he could approach me and ask “are you lost, babygirl?” – a la Don Massimo Torricelli – and I would know it was him. Still, that little bit of creativity won’t be going ahead now.

“Any other pet names you like?” he asks. Why are we having this talk now?

“Slut I’m not keen on, but you already know that” I say. He pouts and smiles.

“Not keen on, but not off-limits” he winks. Ass.

“Wench and whore, no, kind of medium-hard limits. Pig? Absolute hard limit.”

“What about ones you like?” he presses.

“Pet works” I smile. I want to roll my eyes,”pet” has worked too well lately.

“There’s poppet and princess too which, said right…” I say. I don’t know if I could now though, “poppet” is kind of… special.

As an aside, I can’t help but note the same sound in both of them that does something, something debasing and submissive-making – Pet. Pop-pet. Fascinating.

“I like poppet” he says airily. I’d rather you don’t.

There was La Sumisa too, and the sadness and hurt threatens to surface again. Creative fucking genius.

One of my cutest pet names for Matt is Daddysnorus, and he calls me Demandosaurus. I’m a Kitten, okay? I’m allowed to make demands.

Allowed to make, that is, just as Daddy is allowed to disregard or deny them if he chooses. Such is D/s life.

But also the Demandosaurus is known to get very chompy when Daddy doesn’t play fair.

Ahem. Anyway.

I did see Mum yesterday and we got talking about the whole situation with Claire and Lewis over a cup of tea and a slice of carrot cake (those who have read me for a while will also know that carrot cake is probably one of my biggest weaknesses). Both of us are of the broad opinion that the relationship won’t last, and much of that will be because Lewis is already struggling with Jacob, Claire’s autistic four-year-old son. As it stands, Jacob also has ADHD. He asks a lot of questions of people, and Lewis has social anxiety.

When you love someone with children, you have to love the children too. If you don’t, it’s doomed right from the start. It’s like me and my dog – love me, love my dog.

Not that most people struggle with that, and not that kids are like dogs or anything, though I did have to laugh when I heard a group of terriers refferred to as “terrierists” on Crufts the other day. I am sure there are a number of parents out there who liken their kids to pint-sized terrorists at times too. Perhaps we should get a coffee sometime?

In the conversation I also opened up to my mother about the fact my brother knew first. It hurts Matt and me that that we were the last to know.

“I think he kept it a secret from everyone to avoid hurting anyone” she says. I hadn’t considered that possibility before.