Amibivalence: Sadism, Masochism and Slavery in our Female Led Relationship

...we never really came back from our
"romantic" weekend away

What started off as a two week chaste lead-in to a week of playing at slavery has ended up as 51 days (and counting!) of chastity and denial within the context of a Female Led Relationship.

In a sense, we never really came back from our "romantic" weekend away.

I find it very difficult to explain my feelings about all this. It used to be simple; I could distinguish between my Fantasy Slave Self and my Vanilla Normal Self. Now the two have collapsed together leaving me a little confused.

The Female Led Relationship just feels comfortable (not something I expected).

We don't argue about chores any more, Xena is less stressed because she can come home to a neat house, and her ability to give me demerits stops her feeling cross because I'm forcing her to nag. Similarly, just giving up and surrendering control of the sex to her is an immense relief since I've been the one carrying the banner for the marriage bed for the last few years.

Now we come to my enslavement.

Xena is matter of fact about being in charge, but shows no inclination to disrupt my life outside the home, or make important decisions without me. However, beneath the day to day companionship, I am very much Xena's slave. Though I might complain sometimes, or even call her crazy (51 days of denial! WTF?), I can't imagine disobeying her.

 I find being her slave
surprisingly comfortable
and even romantic

I do all the housework to whatever standard she sets. In the evening I wait on her hand on foot - not in a high protocol way, but when she calls I come and do her bidding. If I displease her, she gives me demerits which lead to unpleasant beatings, and she controls my orgasms.

Again, I find being her slave surprisingly comfortable and even romantic. On a deep level I feel possessed or owned. This makes her sometimes arbitrary power deeply reassuring and at the same time very sexy.

However, being a (consenting, of course!) slave is also an adventure the way going trekking in the Himalayas is an adventure.

Doing the chores has become an exciting game with a beating as reward for failure; Dust-bunnies in the hall? 3 demerits. (Ouch!) Our sex life has become a roller coaster ride over which I have absolutely no control.

And then there are the hazards of slavery; chastity and punishment. Like the domestic service, they are also real.

 I will whimper and plead, and
even, maybe weep

It's eight weeks since I had an orgasm and, when Xena takes up the riding whip to administer my rapidly accumulating demerits I will whimper and plead, and even, maybe weep.

This is where the ambivalence--being of two minds--starts to come in. Without these hazards, there would be no wonderful sense of slavery. The snag is, they have to be real. Funishment, a pretend whipping for erotic kicks, wouldn't make me a "real" slave. In fact, it would undermine my sense of Xena as my owner.

The same goes for the indeterminate period of chastity and denial, though that's a little more complicated.

Sure, there is a sense of enduring and suffering frustration. However, the longer I stay chaste, the more it feels normal--even preferable!--, the more feel myself losing my grip on my manhood.

Finally we come to my masochism and Xena's growing sadism.

The thing is that my powerless suffering turns me on. Masochism is the point where the different brain modules go their different ways. When some of my brain modules are going, "Argh! Arg! Let me out of here!" my sex module is going "Wow! I am turned on."

So though a beating turns me off while it's happening, the fact of a beating makes my cock rear in its prison. Similarly, the fact of my seemingly endless sexual frustration turns me on, making me even more frustrated.

In other words, if I liked any of this stuff, it would get me hard.

Meanwhile, Xena is developing sadistic tendencies. If I liked any of this stuff, she wouldn't do it.

Of course, the panicky awareness of how much my wife enjoys mistreating me is itself a turn on...

And, looking up at all this I feel at once triumphant that I am living my fantasy, and a little shocked at how far we have drifted from normality.

Ambivalent.

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