A challenge of similar interests

Sometimes, relationships break up because people want different things. Sometimes, they break up because people want the same thing (like when a husband and wife discover that they BOTH want women, or BOTH want men).

The same things happens in BDSM. Sometimes, two submissives get together. Or two dominants. They can't switch, so no one gets what they want. But that's just sex, not love. And about sex, a wise man once said "I don't put much stock in something I can pay for."

But what do you do when both people want to be in control, and neither wants to give up control? You go for a walk. You have a talk. And, if you're living in my world, you find a solution in the form of a (non rhyming) nursery rhyme.

Up the Hill

They had tried switching. They tried one night each as the submissive. But neither one wanted to give up. They tried fighting it out, but unless she fought dirty, Jack would keep winning. And he didn't like how often she fought dirty. Things began to escalate, and they decided it was best not to push in that direction; too likely someone would get really hurt.

They tried betting with each other, loser submitting, just for the night. But that caused hard feelings. Jill started offering rigged bets, and he only accepted bets he could win. There was too much threat to their trust, and that was not acceptable.

They tried longer term, submitting for the weekend, but that didn't work any better.

They tried a constant switch, fighting for control. That was fun, but tiring. Neither one ever came out ahead.

And so they walked. They took a walk and they talked. That was the heart of their relationship. When they'd first started dating, they'd walked and walked. Conversations abounded. Sometimes they talked about the world, about politics, about life. Sometimes they talked about sex. Sometimes they talked about nothing at all. Every conversation was important, and each one helped them grow closer. It was walking and talking that made them fall in love.

“I don't know how we can do this,” she said, hands in her pocket, eyes towards the horizon. “I don't want to be submissive. And honestly, I don't want you to be submissive. I like your strength. I like your confidence. I don't want to hurt that.”

Jack nodded. “And I don't want to say bad things to you. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to pressure you. I love you, and I just want to make you happy.”

“But making me happy means submitting. And you don't want to do that.”

He sighed and said nothing.

She nudged him with her shoulder. “It's okay,” she said. “It wouldn't make me happy if you weren't happy. I don't want you to submit because you feel you have to.”

“Yes,” he said, “that's exactly it! I want someone to submit because it turns them on. I don't like knowing that you're just doing it for me. That you're not enjoying it. I hate that you suffer because you want me to have what I need.”

She sniffed, fighting back a tear. Jill did not like where this was going. The conversation had a level of finality about it, something she just wasn't looking forward to. She guided them towards a hill, stretching out the walk. If they walked longer, maybe the solution would magically appear.

“I want to be able to give you what you need,” she said.

“I want to be able to give you everything.” Jack squeezed her hand and smiled at her.

She shook her head. “I wish I didn't want this. I wish I wasn't dominant.”

He gave her a low laugh. “I don't,” he said. “I love every part of you. I love all that you are, every facet, every trait. I wouldn't change a thing.”

“Not even to make me submissive?”

His smile turned sad. “It would change who you are,” he said.

She nodded and turned back to the path they were walking. She followed with her eyes as they wound up the hill. There was a store at the top. Maybe they could get something to drink. Sometime to keep the walk going. Something to avoid what she was so sure was coming.

“We could just have vanilla sex,” he said. “I love you, you love me. Why can't we just have normal loving sex?”

Jill shook her head. “And what, a white picket fence? Two point five kids? House in the suburbs, PTA, soccer practice? We'd kill each other inside five years.”

He nodded. “Or ourselves,” he said. Then he sighed. “I just don't see how else we can do it. I don't want to need this, but I do.”

“I know. Me too. I thought it was a phase. Like I'd grow out of it or something. Like I just enjoyed making men do whatever I told them to because of the rush of power, because I was a teenager and it was fun.” She sighed. “But it never got old.”

“I tried to deny it,” Jack told her. “I tried for a while. Last few years of college, even a bit after that. I told myself it was immature. That it was wrong. That a real man isn't domineering. That the things I wanted to do would make me abusive. I don't want to be abusive.

“It was different in college,” he sighed. “Back then, we were all just experimenting. All trying things on for size. Seeing what we liked. Sowing wild oats. But they were supposed to be sown. I was supposed to grow up, to want that fence and the yard, the kids and the neighbors.”

“Sounds like hell.”

He laughed. “Yeah, that's the problem. Maybe I just never grew up. Maybe I don't want to.”

Jill squeezed his hand. “I like our life together,” she said. “I like being your partner, and I like sharing everything with you.”

He nodded. “Right back at you, love. I couldn't imagine having to live without you. I don't want to go to bed at night and not have you there with me.”

“Even if I hog the covers?”

He shrugged. “I take them back when I get cold. And I love that I have to. I even love it when you snore.”

She tore her hand free of him and gave him a scowl with absolutely no venom. “I do not snore,” she said. “Girls don't do that.”

“It's a soft snore,” Jack said. “It's cute. Really, amazingly, wonderfully cute. Makes me smile when I can't sleep.”

They were getting closer to the hilltop. She took his hand again and gave it a squeeze. “You snore really loud. It's not cute at all.”

“I'm sorry,” he had the decency to at least look sheepish.

“It's okay,” Jill gave him a warm smile. “Usually I just have to kiss you and tell you to roll over, and you do.”

“So I submit to you in my sleep?” He said it with a smile. He meant it as a joke. But she didn't laugh.

She had almost forgotten why they were walking. She had almost forgotten what would happen at the end of it all. She had almost forgotten where they were really headed.

They didn't talk for a bit, just enjoyed each other, just thought their own thoughts. Neither one was comforted, neither one was happy. The sword hung dangerously over their relationship, but no one wanted to make the swing.

She waited outside while he went in and got them a bottle of water. They shared it a little, not ready to walk down just yet.

“I could give it up,” he said. “For you. I'll be your slave. No fighting back. I promise.”

Jill smiled and put her hand on his cheek. She gave him a gentle caress and shook her head. “No,” she said. “We both know that won't work. We both know you'd just resent it. You'd hate it, and eventually, you'd hate me. And I'd hate you right back.”

They locked eyes and stared for a long moment. Jack wiped a tear from his eye. “I don't want this to end,” he said.

“Neither do I. But how can we go on if we can't have sex?”

He took a deep breath. “It's not like we aren't intimate,” he said. “We're affectionate. We touch a lot. We snuggle.”

“But no sex,” Jill said.

Jack frowned, then shook his head again. “No,” he said. “I'm not giving up on us. If we can't both be tops, and neither of us can be bottoms, then we just need someone else.”

“What?”

“Another partner. Or more partners. Not primaries. Secondaries. We need to find a slave to share, or each find our own.”

“That's cheating,” Jill said.

“Not if we do it right. If we communicate, if everyone knows what's happening, and everyone knows that no matter what, I'm not going anywhere without you.”

She smiled. “And I'm not going anywhere without you.”

“It'll be hard,” he said. “But we can do it. We can be poly. You're still my one and only. My love, my partner, my equal.”

Jill gave him a sly grin. “But that doesn't mean we can't have a few inferiors here and there.”

The trip back down the hill was easier. Faster. The talk of polyamory tumbled out of them. Once the idea came out, it was like a dam had broken, the crown lifted from the cap. Jack's thoughts came tumbling down.

And Jill's came tumbling after.