This week, my first collar arrived in the post. With trembling hands, and with Miss @fireandhoney on Skype, I put it on. Miss and I just looked at each other across the miles, our faces side by side in flickering pixels, with moist eyes and lumpy throats. It was one of the most joyous occasions of my life, and after only four days, I have noticed a change in my whole approach to our D/s that is significant. It has made me consider the whole nature of the symbols and signifiers we use in our discourse, their weight and meaning.
Up to this point, I had been a periodic cage-wearer, though strictly a wader in the shallow end of that particular pool – a symbol of submission not a permanent barrier to touching. When Miss and I started our adventure, getting a cage seemed a natural priority, because it was how I had, to that point, learned to measure my submission. Although my new cage was considerably more comfortable and less ‘argumentative’ than Mk I, it was not without its moments of working loose, pinching and catching and general eye-popping jiggery-pokery. But this came with the territory, I believed.
By contrast, the collar was easy. It comes off and on quickly and it is discreet (well, my one is, eschewing, as I have, the studs, seams and chromework that characterise some collars). But for that it is no less present than the cage, though considerably lighter. More to the point, it has made me realise a paradox at the heart of my submission: the cage was making it all about me.
I’ve remarked elsewhere that cages should really be called anti-chastity devices, because they are the worst possible thing to wear if you are actually trying not to get aroused. Like a big red button that says DON’T PRESS THIS! It is deliberately trying to tempt you as a form of trial, which can be tremendous fun for both parties. And the sense of ritual, of locking and controlling is hugely sexy – and many a D gets off on the prospect/thought/reality of the erotic stress their s is under. A beautiful symbiosis under the right circumstances.
You can see, of course, the bonus effect of this play is to create anxieties in the mind of the cage wearer about orgasm expectation. For the long term chastity follower, this doesn’t so much arise (nor does much else, I believe), but in the mind of the casual cage wearer, it becomes the focus of concern, and a seemingly constant negotiation, even if tacit or unspoken.
As soon as I put the collar on, I felt almost a different mindset take over. Immediately my internalised focus on my cock vanished and I found myself much more able to take a broader view of my submission and the needs of Miss – which are, after all, primary. It was like someone had suddenly shown me the answer to a particularly complicated sum, and I realised I had known it all the time.
Removing the cage took my cock out of the equation, and made the cage now one of a number of tools we have to play with, when dialling up or down the mood, instead of a binary off/on, locked/unlocked, denial/release.
It has to be said this is probably exacerbated in the case of long-distance relationships, where symbols, rituals, words and the imagination have to do a lot of the heavy lifting that daily skin-on-skin would take care of.
But by realigning my focus where it should be, I also realised how much more receptive I was to subtle changes in mood, how my awareness grew of Miss’s needs and how she wanted the dynamic to work at that particular moment.
Miss had known this all along – knew I had to reconnect with my cage in order to get to the point where I realised my focus on it as a tool of submission was holding me back. The collar was there waiting for me when I was ready to move to it. And having put it on, I find it fits me beautifully now.