I’m finding, more and more, that I discover things about myself in the process of serialising my consciousness into words.

Those words formed themselves without my input

and

Huh. Who knew.

It seems to me that, as long as I keep writing, keep the channel of my being open, keep making myself vulnerable (unto what? the world itself?), discovery will continue.

(And so it happens here; the first line originally came out as “[…] that I discover things about them […]”, and I am not fully sure how to understand it, other than to accept that, while in many ways a merging of identities is at play in this acceptance of my submissive, slave-ish self, my reflexive knowledge still very much applies the lens of a third party.)

Seneschal.

This can only be the first of so many titles, I take it.

Motivations for Service

Why bother to serve? Why do s-types do it? Besides, of course, “…because it’s what subs/slaves do, so I’m doing it.”? In watching and talking to s-types for many years, we’ve discerned that there seem to be three basic types of motivation for service. We’re calling them Transactional, Devotional, and Positional, and we’ll discuss each of them separately.

However, as you read this, it’s important to keep in mind that each person is a complicated mix of motivations. Even if those motivations might fall into three categories, people don’t. Our motivations may shift from person to situation to activity; we may manifest any of these at various times. These categories are presented so that people can have words for why they do things, and perhaps identify if one of these is more dominant than others in their personality.

Transactional Service

In transactional motivations for service, the individual is serving because they are getting a direct benefit from it. Ideally this is an exchange of equal value to them, or they would refuse to do it. The most obvious example of this is paid service – the cleaning lady and the waiter do their jobs because they are getting a paycheck at the end of the day. With unpaid situations, the exchange can be more or less overt or subtle; some people spell it all out in a contract, while for others it’s just “assumed” that “I do this for you now because I know that you’ll do that for me later, so it’s worth it.”

There are all sorts of reasons why people might consider service worth doing even if it isn’t attractive on its own merits. A live-in houseboy or housemaid might clean the house because they’re getting free rent and a certain amount of dominance from a trustworthy M-type. A part-time sub might fetch their dominant drinks at the bar because they know they’re going to get some kinky action later, or because it adds to the fun of temporarily imagining themselves to be a slave, forced to serve or else something vague and terrible and titillating might happen. Another might serve because it gets them the appreciation of the people that they’re serving, and they like to know that they can make a positive impact on the lives of others.

Every power dynamic should have at least a small amount of transactional motivation, because it keeps the servant in touch with their needs and whether those needs are actually getting met. If the servant is no longer getting what they need and what they believe that the master is obligated to give them, they’ll become resentful and eventually leave. This is one reason why it’s good to have largely transactional relationships clearly delineated; the master needs to know what the servant believes that they are supposed to be getting from them. Sometimes these relationships are built entirely on assumptions, and if those assumptions are not in line with each other, it will fail very quickly. Of course, this also means that the servant needs to be completely honest – not only with the master but with themselves as well – about what it is that they expect from the bargain. With straightforward honesty, this kind of service can work out very well in a long-distance relationship, or one where both parties can only see each other periodically, where the other motivations would be more painful and difficult.

One of the drawbacks to transactional service is that while it can work very well for short-term encounters, it’s not so useful for long-term, 24/7, emotionally intimate relationships where boundaries can blur and “rewards” can get put off due to the vagaries of life interfering. The constant “accounting” gets tricky when it’s every minute of every day, and sooner or later someone will start feeling shortchanged. Another drawback is that this motivation can only be pushed so far, as it is easily swayed by personal desires and selfishness. It’s not necessarily the best foundation for a property-ownership situation, for example, or a no-recourse commitment where the slave is expected to be there permanently.

Devotional Service

Devotional motivations for service happen when the submissive serves out of love. It doesn’t have to be romantic love – although it often is – but there is usually a feeling of “You are such a wonderful person that I am moved to do things for you, and I want very much to please you and to make you happy.” Deep satisfaction is gained from helping the object of their warm feelings, in a way that wouldn’t happen if they were rendering that service to some random person.

Love is an amazingly strong motivation, and can carry someone a long way in the face of difficulty. Therefore, this motivation lends itself best to long-term romantic relationships, and secondarily to relationships where the sub looks up to and admires the master as a person. There may also be a desire for the feeling of “belonging” – to a person, to a family, to a cause. Since devotional service is usually very one-pointed – “I serve you and no other!” – the master needs to be very careful about lending their servant to others. Long-distance relationships are the hardest for someone with this motivation, for obvious reasons.

The drawbacks to devotional service is that inevitably, a day will come when the servant doesn’t feel all that loving, and may decide that service isn’t being rendered on that day. We’re all human, and eventually every couple – especially if they are living together – has a moment of “Damn it, today I just hate you!” Even if they get over it in a matter of hours, during that time their service will often be sabotaged by the lack of positive feelings. This can be particularly problematic with the combination of an emotionally volatile servant and “mission critical” tasks. A servant motivated primarily by devotion would do well to cultivate a little of the other two types of motivation to pull them through the “I hate you today” mornings.

Positional Service

Positional motivations for service come from the servant’s strong sense of identity of themselves as a service-oriented person. They serve because it’s part of who they are, and to refuse to serve would be to sabotage their own self-worth, which is often based on how well a job they do. Positionally-motivated servants take pride in serving as perfectly as possible, and they are the ones who get up to help because it needs doing, regardless of who is asking. They are the most likely to attempt to cultivate “pure” service, treating it as an art and requiring little in the way of appreciation. This category is the “ideal” slave in Laura Antoniou’s fictional Marketplace series, where slaves are sold to random wealthy owners who may or may not be even remotely worthy as people, and the slaves are expected to serve their monied masters to the best of their ability anyway. As you might imagine, positionally-motivated servants do “lend out” quite well, should a master want such a thing.

Putting the chairs away after the BDSM potluck munch for the fiftieth time won’t fly for the transactionally-motivated servant (“What’s in it for me?”) or the devotionally-motivated servant (“I don’t love you; why should I do what you say?”), but the positionally-motivated servant will get up and do it anyway every time, because it’s what they do. It is central to how they see themselves. However, one of the drawbacks to being a positionally-motivated servant is that their need to serve anyone, anything, for their own self-worth, can get them taken advantage of by unscrupulous people who want something for nothing.

Another drawback to this motivation is that it does tend to objectify dominants and perhaps see them as interchangeable. In contrast to the devotionally-motivated submissive who is fiercely bound to one particular person, the positionally-motivated servant may be happy to serve anyone for the sake of the service. Alongside the potential problems of choosing a less-than-worthy master, they might also irritate some dominants with their seeming lack of caring about whom they serve. Many dominants want to be seen as special, at least by their submissives, and they may be put off by the idea that they might as well be anyone else who would accept the submissive’s service. Adding a bit of devotion to the mix will help in that regard, and cultivating some transactional motivations will help to keep them from being taken advantage of too often.

I was away, in my own head.

In the imaginal, I was yours. You’d given me to Audrey for a night, who in turn used me very, very roughly, late into the night. The next morning, she met with you for coffee, slave girl in tow — who’d been very good, she assured — and you received me back.

In the real — just minutes later — you addressed my subconscious, asking me to let you protect me in my dreams.

And in a funny way, you just had. As another has written before me:

I can’t not be submissive, whether owned or unowned, whether actively dominated or not, whether bound or free. My constant inclination is to submit to any other person around me, which apart from a slave master or mistress, is dangerous and leaves me susceptible. For me and others like me, there is a saving grace in being owned by another, for then I am protected from my own submissive vulnerability.

Being given was protection, for in that world I was yours to give; the comfort of being given — that of knowing one’s place to begin with.

My god, progesterone turns me into such a bitch. Literally over night. Guess the world has to deal with this for the next two weeks.

Geez. I even knew a slave girl!

Worked with her; gave her a lift home more than once! Saw her at PAX a decade later. I suspect I follow her on Instagram even now. At the time I simply didn’t understand.

I am not sure I have experienced submissive humiliation. This is probably the next thing to ascertain.

I’ve always wanted to be kept.

For as long as I can recall. My very first long-form creative writing endeavour (age 7) was an obvious self-insert; an anthropomorphic rabbit, kept. Collared in all but name; a wrist cuff, unable to be removed. In a cell, somewhere far away.

Fantasies of being like Mewtwo in the first Pokémon movie, kept in a lab somewhere, never let out. Actually trying to roleplay that out at a friend’s once (age 9ish). He thought I was weird. I guess he was right. We stopped hanging out.

There was the time I had a different, much closer friend literally tie me to his bed (age 13; what we had on hand to effect this purpose was, uh, socks). Cue EXTREME scrambling to cover this up somehow when his mother well-intendingly burst in at the late hour that it was. I should ask him what he made of my asking to do that at the time.

Hell, it’s not a stretch to see it in the way I’d given myself to romantic relationships up until a few years back. Total abnegation of the self. The subconscious rebels, though, because what I want to give is not even what the most possessive of my partners wanted to take. Not that I really had a clue about myself then, either; it was all these strange, wordless longings, and they’d seem to contradict themselves in ways I couldn’t grasp.

The most frustrating thing was always myself, in the end.

This quest for self-knowledge in earnest has been apace for more than 18 months, now, and I think we’re approaching the last crescendo before the home stretch. Not to suggest I’ll be ever truly finished with it, by any means, but once I’ve found it — once I’ve locked eyes with my soul and listened — I suspect that same, once-eternal dread of facing up to what I’ve made for myself will no longer feature.

And maybe I’ll find myself a keeper or two.

For me, the pleasure comes out of being obedient, and doing it really well; being used for others’ pleasure, and putting in a lot of effort.

At the moment I find a lot of pleasure in the idea of, I guess, being someone who holds herself in pretty high regard, but is regardless so willing to be used and to devote herself to that, if that makes sense. There’s a kind of humiliation in that which makes me super blush-y to think about.

“finding your submissive self” by shae hits so hard it hurts.

Transcluding here for our future study and contemplation, emphases mine. The degree to which most of this is felt is unreal.

(The one exception is vis-à-vis degradation, but that’s not something I feel an acute absence of, but rather a questionmark regarding. There’s a big extent to which I wonder how much I inhibit my own desires due to internalised shame — it’s not something I feel on the surface, nor is it an emotionality most would associate with our public personae.

So it’s not that I don’t desire degradation, or that I do; not that I don’t know shame, or that I do. Just that I have no insight into it one way or another. What does resonate in that part is reference to needing that which I would protest to; indeed, one of my peak submission experiences so far was one in which I was helplessly trying to object to what was happening, so much so that my body was acting under its own will, trying to push away the dominant; me, awkwardly trying to tell her that despite this, I wanted her to continue.)

Recently I’ve used this phrase in some of my posts. I thought I might look at “finding your submissive self” through the lens of my own life.

I’m going back about eight years to a time before I was in a D/s life. I was in my real estate career, living a very vanilla life, dissatisfied and not sure what to do. I had been aware for some time that I was submissive, though naïve about it, but now I was beginning to think about it as more significant in me than I’d realized before.

I made a lot of mistakes in my early exploration of my submissive sexuality, but maybe this was something I did right: I dedicated time to assess my submissive feelings and inclinations — sort of a personal, submissive inventory. I really focused on it. That sounds so Tony Robbins, but for me it was less of a self-improvement technique than an inner exploration about strange desires I just needed to figure out.

Probably the most obvious thing to me then was my persistent longing to be obedient in an extreme way. I couldn’t make sense of that, but I knew it was there in me. “Obedience” to me wasn’t simply about being a follower, nor was it about being, say, a housewife in the old traditional sense, deferring passively to a husband. My longing was something else, deeper and more extreme. Of course back then my definition of “extreme” was more modest than I consider it now, but even then I had a clear sense that my longing required something beyond normal.

I remember being at parties with real estate colleagues, sitting and sipping cocktails. A particular man there, just by his presence, compelled certain submissive feelings in me. I remember having a longing to sit on the floor at his feet. In the social context there that would have been so inappropriate and odd, yet I wanted that, maybe precisely because it would have been a socially embarrassing demonstration of my obedience. I didn’t even know the man.

I realized as well that my submissiveness also involved the desire to be taken into experiences I never could or would take myself. At the time, I couldn’t specifically identify what those experiences were — I was too new to it all. But I had a palpable sense that I needed someone to command my being and push me into life events of doing and being that were otherwise beyond me.

At the time, I was also going through a kind of sexual awakening. I’ve written many times about how my sexual development was repressed in my early years, and so I was at twenty-seven just beginning to open up sexually to who I was. This led to a brief but serious relationship with a man and also a girl-crush on a colleague of mine, which led to my first sexual relationship with a woman.

But I was given advice from someone, I forget who, to imagine my submissiveness apart from my sexuality and any sexual experience. D/s, it was said to me, is not about sex, but about a radical abandonment of one’s self to another’s dominion. The point was that as I assessed my submissive self, would I still feel what I felt submissively if I took sexual attraction and sex itself out of the picture?

As I worked this through, my answer was yes. That desire to be “taken into experiences I never could or would take myself” was not primarily, to my mind, about sex. I could imagine sexual things, yes, but it was for me really about a different kind of relationship in which I was treated in a non-traditional way, taken into life experiences of submission and obedience — again, admittedly, vague and undefined. My submissiveness just had a craving sense these “other experiences” awaited me out there.

The further realization I came to was troubling to me. But it was strong and unavoidable. It was, simply, a strong wish for my own degradation.

What I didn’t know then, but believe now, is that this is possibly the core of submissive psychology. My submissive desire was to be humiliated and degraded. I didn’t feel this to be a kind masochism, a “hurt so good” desire. It was different. It was something I would likely protest and object to in reality, yet something I knew I somehow needed. Again it was ambiguous as to what and how (indeed, in my writing now, I’m still trying to figure this out), but it was a strong, driving submissive desire in me. Troubling but true.

There were other things too, other evidences, such as how dominance in persons across a crowded room would somehow melt me, and how I started to imagine myself in a kind of servitude to particular men or women. Traditional people’s fantasies look like a Hallmark movie, mine looked like “The Story of O.”

It took a long time. I was sorting out my life in a handful of different ways — my relationship with my mother and my father, my beliefs and faith, my bisexuality, my career and why it was disappointing… and now this, my submissive nature, which started to loom as a bigger reality in my life than any of the others.

My “submissive self-assessment inventory” took me about a year and a half. It was never so formal a project as that, but that’s kind of what it was. It yielded the self-revelations I share here, but slowly and often messily.

At a point, I started to accept my being submissive. And then becoming open to being extremely submissive. And then allowing myself to identify primarily as a submissive, taking on the label, allowing myself to be defined by it: “My name is Shae and I’m a submissive.”

There were still questions for me to figure out. Namely would my submissive identity need to be a full-time life? And then, how to find a dominant person who would take me places I couldn’t take myself.

But I came to this point when I was twenty-eight where I could say I found my submissive self. I knew this is what I was.

Do I know what I am?