Originally written back in the summer, I have no clue why it never got published anywhere.  Maybe it is, and I’ve misplaced it.

Anyway… Early on, Spitfire and I were talking…

“I want you to write about your submissive needs,” domlyskirts tells me over several days. I’m not putting words in her mouth, I’m writing about what I understand she told me, not word for word, even though I have most of those to refer to. “If I don’t know what your submissive needs are, my dollie, I can’t help you refill your cup so that it’s overflowing. If I don’t know your needs, I won’t be able to help you grow. Link me the place you posted it when you’re done.”

I sum it up in three little letters. I speak the truth in those three little letters.


I can hear the laughter and concern behind it. “Not good enough, my dollie. I need specifics.”

“Time with you,” I start, and words flow in fits and bits. I need time with my dominant. I need to be with them. I don’t have to be immediately with them, but with them, at least in chat. I know domlyskirts and I have at most a 12 hour window of communicating together in a day, and it’s where the first drops of my cup has started to fill up with. From midnight my time, there’s a 6 hour block where I’m sleeping, and another 2 hours of getting the mini-mes ready for school. Then from when I return from driving them to school till 4pm, domlyskirts and I can talk. And talk and talk. Even when they were busy as beaver, and working hard on a real life project, they still had time to reply. So “time with you,” isn’t just “time with them,” it’s them communicating with me, what they are up to, what my day is supposed to be, and more. It’s all of that, and more.

I need a dominant who realizes a task like this is very emotional and trying for me, and may never actually be “finished.” I might not be willing to share it with others, either.

The ability to go and excercise my need to be dominant, and not be judged for it. There’s several types of dominant I am. In general, I try to be a gentle, mothering dominant. My four personal submissives are the example of that. They are mine and I love hearing about their exploits in SL, and real life, but that doesn’t mean I have to, or want to, be sexual with them. There are other places that allow me to get my mean streak out. She needs to have an outlet, because she’s dangerous to be allowed to roam free in real life.

I also need that dominant time of mine shut off, and allowed to be submissive. Months and months of having to be dominant has worn me down, when I need time at the knee of someone who cares deeply about me. Submission to a random dominant in SL is not true submission. They don’t hold my heart, only my avatar. I literally need to be told that it is okay to be submissive, to give in, to let go of my power, and let my dominant make the decisions. If my dominant side isn’t turned off… if my switch isn’t turned to “sub,” my internal dominant can take over and force my dominant to be submissive. I don’t want that. I want my dominant to be my dominant, not two switches vying for dominance. Neither one will win.

I need a leash on my linden spending. Going from 10,000L to less than 100 in a day because of gachas, because I have no one to control my gambling impulse, is a form of self-harm. It’s a form of stress relief, but the self-harm is in spending lindens erratically. Disobeying that should be appropriately punished.

I need a dominant that understands that self-harm urges does not necessarily mean the desire to suicide. It can lead that way, but I want to be stopped before it does. A small nick isn’t self-harm when it’s being used to centre myself and stop the desire for eternity. I’ve been fighting this desire since I was 12. There’s been three occasions where it’s come close to winning. One was via pills, one was with a blade, and the last one, an accident, was a combination of pills and alcohol that I did not know would cause problems in that way. The blade scares me. That I was able to use one so easily to cause myself personal pain was not good. I need my dominant to understand that if I’m spinning, I need to be stopped. Spinning out of control is not good.

I need to be able to be at the end of my leash, not constantly yanked in and forced into submission. I don’t always need to be right there beside my dominant while leashed. I need to be yanked in and forced into submission. I need to be told, “sit at my feet, my dollie,” or whatever word useds to refer to me.

I need to be objectified. Not objectified as a piece of trash, but as l’object d’arte. Something to beheld as beautiful. Sometimes as punishment, including all the other details of punishment – blindfolding, gagging, and more.

I need a dominant who is not afraid or reluctant to use my husband as his physical hands. This is something we both do enjoy, because he is just as much an exibitionist as I am. He benefits from my desire to ravish him, and my dominant benefits from knowing that my physical needs can actually be met. We may even share the happy sounds I make while doing so, but that is for my dominant, and not for the world.

I need a dominant who realizes that a dominant’s rights to their submissive does not overrule a spouse’s marital privilege, and in fact, unless the spouse is a proven abuser, it is the other way around. That the dominant is the dominant because the spouse approves, not the other way around.

I need my dominant to know that I am not a fetish dispenser, nor do I expect my dominant to be a fetish dispenser for me.

For my dominant to be at as many of my sets as they can be.

I need my dominant to listen, or read journals, without judging, without reacting in anger to what I say in them. If my dominant is going to reply, to do it calmly, or not at all, if the reply is going to be one in anger.

I need my dominant to realize that I am a victim of childhood sexual, physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional abuse. I was abused by my mother, neglected and abandoned by my father, molested by the paper boy and my babysitter, and more. My grandparents hid their abuse behind “love” and “concern.” My grandfather did something to me, and I know from talking to a deceased aunt that my mother and aunts were his victims as well. Maybe what I did stopped him. I still love him though. That’s the worse part – I don’t always know if it’s abuse or fake love covering abuse.

I need my dominant to hold me when the body memories come back. Those horrible, horrible, memories of touches of men who used my body for their enjoyment, and if I didn’t give in, I would have been hurt worse than I was. The memory of flying backwards and hitting the floor, and hands on my throat is the worse. I haven’t been able to stop that body memory, but I’ve stopped others. I don’t want them to start up again. I know mentally that my body’s reactions might not necessarily be my mind’s desires, and I need my dominant to know that.

I need my dominant to get me out of a sub drop safely, so it doesn’t become a subcrash so hard, I start to spin.

I need my dominant to scruff me. Put me in my place. I may balk and fight it, but I need it.

I need a dominant who is willing to stand up and say “how dare you suggest my girl do that!” There are males out there who, when they find out the mun they are talking to is female, decide to use their other brain. I will do my best to be civil, but I cannot guarantee that I will, and I need my dominant to understand that I’m human, too.”

I need my dominant to be willing to accept my claws and fangs, as much as they accept my furr and purrs. That I have every right to my emotions, no matter how negative they are, and that I should be redirected away from harming them and others.

I need my dominant to forgive mistakes, or to correct when I’m wrong, instead of jumping down my throat.

I need my dominant to understand my little side has at least two facets, and one of them is tiny and scared and likes to hide in holes. I also need them to realize that suggesting I wear a diaper (except for medical need) or a pacifier will result in a huge growl from me at best. My little is at least toilet trained! And bites. And thumb sucks, not necessarily my own. I am not sexual when I am little. It scares me.

I need my dominant to understand that I have an aural need to hear their voice. They don’t have to be talking to me, but I need to hear it. The gasps and sounds of pleasure they get, drives me wild.

I need my dominant to know that I don’t always know what my needs are, or that a want is a need or a need is a want.

I need my dominant to realize that I may have very bad days physically, and emotionally. It is my sheer stubbornness that keeps me walking. There are moments when I cannot feel my legs. Or that I have to use too much brain power to use them. This can result in falls. Or worse. A lifetime of injuries…

I need my dominant to know about my allergies, my asthma, and my nerve damage. I can’t feel what I used to be able to. It’s embarrassing and even painful. Or, that I need to moan. That I need their weight on me. That I enjoy being taken like a male. That my nipples can make me cum by another’s touch. That there is a small spot at the top of my anal cleft that when touched just right, makes me want to couche and allow for so much more.

I need my dominant to known tht just because I enjoy my own tastes, doesn’t mean that I enjoy theirs. I can be sugary sweet to bitter or other tastes. That I’m not bisexual. That I was always a tomboy. That my marks that prove my identity are private and not to be thrown about like proof of ownership.

I need to be their dollie, their kittlen, their slut, their whore. A single word change can dive me deep into my submission.

I need my dominant to know that I have a variety of interests in bdsm. I like rope, mummification, objectification, flogging, multiple partners, and more. Subspace reaching by any method is another of my interests, and they extend outside of bdsm.

I need my dominant to encourage me to be a maker. To make things. To explore things.

I need my dominant to push me. To help me get past some traumas. To be able to do stuff I used to enjoy doing when I was so much younger

There’s more, so much more….

What I need from my dominant, is my dominant.

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