I have a confession. I hate the plug. No, it’s not that I don’t like anal; quite the opposite. I love anal. I have my strongest orgasms from anal. So why do I hate it? It’s not the physical sensation of wearing it that bothers me. It’s a small-ish plug with a narrow neck. Comfortable to wear at work or walking around. And it’s not the act of putting it in, because a little saliva is all I need.
It’s the instruction itself. We have a new rule. I must have my plug with me at all times. And anytime he chooses, he texts me with instructions to put it in. The thing is, I have always hated plug rules. It seems so strange, that I could hate plug rules while loving anal play. But I think I figured it out.
The plug is not sexual. All this time, I’ve been thinking of it as sexual. Then I get an instruction to put it in while I’m at work or running errands or coloring with my daughter. And it feels like such a jarring switch in headspace. It feels like being used as a sexual object when, frankly, I have shit to do. I don’t have the time or mental space to be horny.
But the plug is not sexual. The plug is a reminder that he owns me—that my body is his property, and I am only its caretaker. The plug is no different than his rule that I put my hair in a ponytail before bed. When we are apart, these are ways he reminds me of my place and his control. The purpose is not to turn me on; the purpose is to keep us connected. The purpose is to give me peace.
Once I have the plug in, I feel that connection and peace. After the first couple minutes, I am not usually turned on. But when I move or clench, I feel him with me. There is purpose in what he chooses for me. And yet, when the instruction first comes through, it almost always feels inconvenient. Really? Does it have to be now? Because I’m in between meetings at work or volunteering or doing the laundry or… And I don’t feel sexual.
Sometimes I feel like I just need more time—time to switch my headspace or get in the mood. I want mental space to devote to the task. I want to take the time to really connect with my submission to him. But for him, the obedience is what matters. The obedience is what feeds him. And while I want that mental space, I rarely get it. But I don’t want him to stop giving these instructions. The obedience feeds me, too. Even when I’m not in the mood. Even when I don’t want to. Because it’s not sexual; it’s just part of being his. Serving him is my joy, even when the task itself isn’t.
Plug instructions can feel like whiplash sometimes. It’s because I’m thinking of it as a sexual act, using one of my holes for his pleasure. But that’s almost never what it really is. It strengthens our connection. And more importantly, It’s an opportunity for me to accept his control and remember my place. I need these opportunities for submission. And he needs my obedience.
