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I want…

December 16th, 2014

There’s this idea that consensual slaves don’t have wants or needs. Or, at the very least, if they do, they should just shut the fuck up about them. Because they’re the bottom, right? Slaves have given up their rights, and therefore, they’ve also given up their wants and needs.

But that’s just not how it works.

First of all, slaves are human. I don’t know any humans who are able to just check their brains and hearts at the door on a whim. Not even for someone they love.

Oh, they may be able to put them off for a while, but in the end, they eventually have to scratch those itches, or they’ll begin to resent the reason they can’t.

But besides that, this is consensual slavery. Say it with me now. Con-sen-su-al. That means the whole entire reason the slave is a slave is because it scratches an itch for them. It’s something they want.

I feel like with that statement I could mic drop and walk away, but the “slaves have wants” diatribe isn’t even why I came here. It’s just something that’s been on my mind as I’ve watched an old friend be very open with her readers about her relationship troubles, and read the smattering of absolutely disgusting responses mixed in with the well wishes and heartfelt advice, and it so nicely coincided with the real reason I want to write that I figured I’d shoehorn it in and use the real reason to make my point.

You’re welcome.

There’s this thing that I like. Sort of a “comfort food,” if you will. It’s not a need. It’s kinda unhealthy. But sometimes, if we have the money, M buys it for me.

I mean, it helps that he likes it, too. And I’ve been known to offer sexual favors in exchange for him buying me this thing. Because me offering sexual favors for things that I want is a part of our kink, and because I’m not above doing something nice for him when he’s doing something nice for me, and because sometimes a slave should pay for favors from his or her master, and because…well, I mean, I’m kinda a filthy slut. I’d be doing those things anyway.

So the past few weeks have been hella stressful. M’s working from about 8:30am till about 5-6pm, and then goes back to work between 7 and 11 to work another 2-5 hours depending on the job. There’s no end in sight. In fact, it seems like every day, they’re signing a new contract. Which is great for the company, but translates into a bunch of overworked and extremely underpaid, stressed the fuck out dudes with families around the holidays. Which results in a bunch of stressed the fuck out families.

I can’t complain too much. They got raises and bonuses to “make up for” all the extra work they were doing this summer. But they’re not getting anything for all the extra work they’ve been doing around the holidays. And instead of asking if they’d be willing to work on days that their employee handbook deems paid holidays, or pushing back on the customer that set a ridiculous deadline for the first business day after Christmas, they’re just expecting everyone to be available and not offering any compensation.

All the while, all the guys with families are still struggling to make ends meet. Not Walmart-worker struggling, but struggling nonetheless. And we’re no different.

So when I had a panic attack, and couldn’t shut off the voices in my head, I declared that I wanted my comfort food. M said he’d get it for me if he could fuck me up the ass.

Like I have a choice in where he fucks me. That’s the best part about the whole “paying for it” thing. There’s literally nothing I could offer him that he can’t just take whenever he wants. He just likes it when I offer. There’s something incredibly hot about making me tell him what I’d be willing to give him for whatever it is I want. It also gives him an idea of how bad I want it. If I’m offering him a kiss, it’s really not that big of a deal. If I’m willing to bend over and take it up the ass? It’s huge.

Problem is, we can’t afford it. We maxed out our single low-limit credit card to pay for Christmas. We barely scrape by each pay period. We owe people, and doctors, and utility companies money. We could probably put payments off, or pay smaller amounts on a couple bills, or whatever, but ultimately, all of that is just postponing the inevitable, and in the end, we’ll save money making the payments we’re making now.

So I told M we should wait. And he told me that none of that shit is my concern. The only thing I need to worry about is making sure my wants are known. He’ll decide whether or not I get them fulfilled.

I wanted to yell, “This! This! This!” after a RT like we were on Twitter.

It’s not that slaves don’t have wants. It’s never been that slaves shouldn’t have wants. It’s that slaves give their owners the right to choose which wants are fulfilled and when.

And that’s all I’ve got to say about that.


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  1. December 16th, 2014 at 17:47 | #1

    I’m not even into any sort of BDSM/master-slave relationship or dynamic right now, and I agree! I’m curious what the thing is though!

  2. kaya
    December 17th, 2014 at 09:51 | #2

    I will never ever ever understand the logic behind thinking that a slave shouldn’t have wants. Why on EARTH would I choose this kind of relationship if it wasn’t to get my own itches scratched.

    It just boggles the mind that I’m looked down upon for voicing my own selfish interests because, apparently, we’re all supposed to be martyrs or something.


    Fuck ’em.

  3. December 17th, 2014 at 11:31 | #3

    @ Mr. Will You’re a smart guy. I’m betting you could figure it out if you thought about it. πŸ˜‰

  4. December 17th, 2014 at 11:34 | #4

    @ kaya The best part about all of that is damn near all of them are like, “Oh, kaya, I’ve been reading you FOR-EV-ER! I love your blog! By the way, stop using your blog to express your relationship thoughts/feelings.” If they’ve truly been reading your blog forever, they’d know that’s exactly why you started the damn thing.

    But yeah. Fuck ’em.

    Want me to show up in your comments with a sledge hammer? I totally would. I still love you that much.

    (Just make sure my alibi is airtight, okay?)

  5. RynJ21
    January 4th, 2015 at 18:37 | #5

    I’m a switch and I was convinced that I’d never be able to submit to anyone because of myths like this. I’m glad I’m stubborn enough to ignore anything that threatens my personhood.

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