The Joys of Being Collared

My wife has ALWAYS been a little bit pinchy. Not in an abusive way; I wasn't a battered husband in the style of a Lifetime movie. Rather, she always included a little bit of pain in our pleasure. I say "always" but this is probably not true. We have been together a long time, and she has been tweaking my nipples for years, etc.

Let's just say I wasn't surprised when the riding crop I put in her hand at the store quickly heralded an a-ha moment for her. She was trying it out, right away, and really enjoyed it. Her eyes lit up, kind of like Ralphie's when his dad gives him that one last present, the Red Ryder Carbine Action BB Gun. I recall the conversation we had on the way out to her car. She was kind of surprised at how much she liked it; the feel of it, the sounds it made, and, I think, the control it gives her. We were talking yesterday and today, really re-examining our relationship, realizing how right it was, how real her dominance is over me, and how real my submission to her is. Today, when we were driving home, she asked me a question. I can't recall the exact question, but she was asking or commenting about how this felt right, and, the question made me think about how I felt about her. My answer, or my response to her comment, was to tell her I always felt my collar, every waking moment. Whether or not it was on, I could feel it, and I could feel the weight of the chain leash attached to it. I could feel the tug of her will through that leash, both as a method by which I acknowledge her dominance in my everyday actions (which is why I am no longer tempted by the various forms of profligacy to which I was prone) and of the protection her dominance offers me.

The dominance is easy to process, and easy for me to explain. She tells me what she wants, and I do it, and we are both happy. As simplistic as that sounds, if you think about it in the context of traditional marriages in the Western tradition, it's almost revolutionary. The "It's not about the nail" (watch it if you haven't) dilemma just doesn't apply to me. Neither do the jokes about the girlfriend or the wife telling the man to pick the restaurant, and the 'right' answer being whatever he didn't pick. Almost all humor about typical relationships is about a lack of communication between the sexes. I. Don't. Have. That. Problem. At all. Not one bit. My life is a joy. Every interaction with my wife is at face value, and every interaction is focused on what's best for us. You see what I did there? I started by talking about her dominance over me, but my explanation was about how it benefited me. I feel almost guilty, like I've tricked her into giving up the secret lady club password. I get what I want, which is her contentment and happiness, and, whatever we are doing and wherever we are, clear instructions on how to maintain our shared joy. The protection side is harder to explain. I think the metaphor of a collar here is apt. My collar has a ton of metal rivets, and is made out of thick but pliable black leather. Not some flimsy patent leather thing, but rather the kind of collar you would buy for a massive rottweiler. Sure, it gives her control of me, but it is wider than an inch, probably an inch and a half, and it wraps soothingly around my most vulnerable area, the neck. When I'm wearing it physically, I feel like nothing can harm me. Figuratively, which is all the time, I feel insulated from all the crap that used to weigh me down.

The thick, studded band shields me from emotional turmoil. It shields me from doubt; doubt in my relationship, doubt in myself, doubt in my ability to love, or be worthy of love. It makes me invincible. I know that I am on the right path, and that at the other end of the leash is my protector. Because in exchange for giving her myself, completely, she agrees to take so much off my shoulders. If there is a situation I can't handle, she steps in. And no, I can't say I can't handle the laundry, LOL, but it doesn't have to be some sort of heavy duty emotional turmoil. It could be a situation like today, where I was exhausted. I won't ever know I am too tired to be worth a damn, I just don't. I might ask if I can nap, but she's the one who's going to bind me to the bed and let me sleep out whatever exhaustion I have. She takes care of me. It could also be a person in our lives I really can't handle, like my aunt. I don't have to deal with any of the emotional turmoil stemming from cutting her out of our lives. I don't even have to talk about her if I don't want to. This huge source of potential guilt, resentment, or anger is just put out of my hands. She takes that load; I am left to focus on what is important: her needs. It is a perfect balance, and makes me think of something I heard on a podcast recently. Tristan Taormino, a noted sex educator, said that relationships do NOT have to be about equality. Instead, they have to be about balance. You, dear reader, may look at my relationship aghast, amazed at my 'unmanly' behavior, thinking it would never work for you. And you'd probably be right, because it isn't your relationship. I am not equal to my wife in emotional strength, critical thinking abilities, or self-discipline. So in our relationship we achieve balance by ceding responsibility and control in these areas to her, and since critical thinking is the fundamental requirement to decision making, she gets to make the decisions. So she's in charge. An equal division would not be ideal, so we divested ourselves of equality. It's a perfect balance, for us.

#FLR #FemaleLedRelationship #Control