Some things…

…you still have to do yourself.

I like reading Tom Allen’s blog, and one of the things he does is pop pictures of himself up (I try to steer clear of the ones with the nudity, just because I tend to read blogs at work during downtime, and I’m positive a naked Tom Allen on my desktop will lead to a discussion with some of my superiors. Sorry Tom, I’m sure you’re gorgeous.) A couple times he’s mentioned how toned up he’s getting — and it reminded me of how toned I’m not.

Now, I’ve mentioned before how my wife has filmed us having sex a couple times, and once committed one of my peggings to film. And the thing is, you never realize how badly thirty and working all day and eating out all of the time hits you until you’re looking at your ass getting reddened or your gut as you get pegged. (She held the camera to the side, so she got the penetration footage, and boy, my thick middle was very apparent. At least to me. But then again, I’ve got ridiculous body image issues.) And it got me thinking about what my expectations are as a submissive, and what my new needs are as a rabidly sexual person…

The thing is, my wife and I have been improving ourselves as we get more and more into BDSM. For one thing, we’re on camera more, for our own purposes. For another thing, you’re never more acutely aware of how your ass looks than when your wife is squeezing off photos of her handiwork after thirty minutes of belting and cropping. I want to look good on camera. I want to look nice tied to a bed or the wall with stripes all over my ass, thighs and back. I want to enjoy watching myself get pegged. And I want to enjoy my wife complimenting me:

Her: “Look how red your ass is! I did that!”

Me: “Oh my God, is that my ass? I used to have a nice ass.”

Her: “You still have a nice ass. That’s a nice, red ass.”

Me: “Ugh, I’m disgusting.”

(Yes, I sound like a teenage girl when looking at my ass. I have it on tape.)

My wife is trying to take better care of herself. My wife and her family look naturally good. They don’t wear a lot of makeup, they tend to dress down, but they can get away with it, because there’s a natural magic to their looks. But my wife is down on herself a lot because she feels like she’s not going to look good enough for my colleagues at cocktail hours and formal dinners when I move back up and get to working in the area, and I had some extra cash last time I was up, so after my first day’s worth of abuse I took her out for a makeover. I took her to an upscale department store, bought her some expensive lotions and perfumes the girls at work had recommended to me, then asked the saleslady — who was making a big commission off of everything — who she thought would take care of us. She recommended a certain woman behind one of the dozen makeup counters, we went over to that lady, and my wife spent an hour under the lights and in front of the mirrors getting pampered. The makeup saleswoman showed my wife a bunch of expensive makeups, how to apply them, how to clean her face afterwards so there wouldn’t be an irritation or acne, and by the end of the day, I’d dropped $500 on makeup and other stuff to make sure she looked like a million bucks. But she did. She had just enough makeup to really bring out her beauty, her eyes, her hair, her cheeks — all of it.

My wife is happier now. And she’s stunning. And it was nice to stand around like a dutiful husband while she got pampered. Whatever she wanted, she got. Before we got into D/s, I would’ve been bored stiff, but I enjoyed standing around and waiting on her while the girl behind the makeup counter hooked her up. I liked dropping money on her. And I liked that she now walked around in the open with the same confidence she walked around with in the bedroom. The next day she got her hair done and dressed up for Thanksgiving and looked terrific. Everybody was amazed, because a little makeup made my wife walk around like she owned the place. It inspired her.

And the thing is, BDSM is making us pay attention to things like that, because we’re paying more attention to our bodies and our attitudes than ever before. All my suits have to be perfect. My ties have to be tied just so. I wore a suit to pick her up at the airport a few months ago, because I know she finds them sexy, and I looked fabulous. There’s something about a woman grabbing your tie while she smacks your face, you know? Something about making sure you look perfect for your mistress. Something about her looking smooth and cool and perfectly coiffed while at work, everybody talking about how awesome she looks, and you’re the guy she comes home to and beats the shit out of while wearing a corset.

But the gut…it’s got to go. And when we got into this, I assumed she’d put me on a diet, and I’d stay on it, and do whatever she said. But that’s now how D/s works. It’s not like you become a robot and Mistress turns you into Perfect You (everybody knows this but me, I’m sure.) I thought she would give the order and I’d just do it, because I’m so into submitting — I’d just magically get off on not eating as much because she told me to slow it down.

Honestly, I thought dieting would be a kind of sex-play, because it comes from getting ordered to diet. I thought I’d get off on it.

But I still down the fast-food in the morning on the way to work. I still drink sodas to stay awake when pulling an all-nighter. I still drink beers with colleagues. I still don’t make the time to exercise like I should. And she — my wife — has tried to crack the whip. Tried to harangue me, punish me, deny me what I want, but on some level, this kind of thing has to start with me. It’s up to me. She can’t overcome my bad habits with her will. If that’s how it worked, all us subs would be beautifully sculpted paragons of physical perfection, and…well, maybe I’m the only one who’s not, but I doubt it.

And in a perfect world, she’d give the order for me to diet and exercise and I’d do it. But it’s not a perfect world, and if I’m going to enjoy spending time getting my ass beat on camera so we can play it back later, or wearing nice clothes so she can tear them off and hurt me, I’m going to have to motivate myself. And “for my Mistress” isn’t enough. I have to get into the mindset that if we’re ever going to go to public clubs, fetish balls, all of the things that we talk about doing, I have to be more comfortable with my body. If I’m ever going to enjoy watching footage of my wife pegging me, I have to ditch my body issues and fix whatever’s bothering me.

And that’s a “me” thing. It’s not a “her” thing, no matter how much I want to just surrender responsibility to her. If only it was that easy.