A vent - my old domme’s new sub

I see your stories on Instagram, I see the way you take them on trips, and on dates, all the fun times and all the little gifts. I’m glad you’re happy and I wish you the best with them.

I can never tell you this because I don’t want to be seen as bitter, I don’t want to actually hurt you but seeing this hurts me. It hurts the part of me that knows that, while you would take them across the country for a fun trip, you’d scarcely have driven down the road to see me when we together.

You made it very clear to me when I started serving you that I’d always come second to the woman who would become your wife and that you could never be attracted to me because I’m a man. I accepted this, and did my best to show you that this secondary status and the lack of sex didn’t make my admiration any less ardent or my submission any less true.

I accepted that you wouldn’t be able to spend time, effort, thought or anything else on me even nearly as much as you did with your primary partner. I made excuses for the anniversaries you ignored, the birthdays you put no effort into and the christmases which you didn’t bother to reciprocate. You were busy, you didn’t understand.

In reality, I didn’t tell you how much this hurt because I was afraid. I was afraid that, as with other things, me raising my hurt would inevitably end with me apologising and managing your emotions. I was afraid you’d judge me, that you’d throw up distance because you were discomforted.

Every time we argued, every time you detonated at me, threw up barriers at me or retreated away from me when we’d disagreed. The silence became deafening until I caved and took responsibility for whatever had happened.


I accepted a version of submission that demanded a lot of me, and offered very little in return, beyond the occasional word of affirmation and very very occasional play. You weren’t a safe harbour, you weren’t a confidante, you were the most one-sided kind of friend. I accepted this partly because I thought it was what I needed to accept to keep you in my life and partly because I thought that you were doing your best, and that merited patience.

I told you I loved seeing how you were withe children and animals, how I loved seeing the side of you that cared for others, whether they be your primary partner or your friends. I accepted every hardship because I had hoped that if I just served well enough and long enough, you might eventually care for me.

Seeing how well you are capable of treating this new sub has given me clear vision of what we had. It’s not that you weren’t capable, it’s that you didn’t care. You knew exactly how little you had to do to keep my loyalty and you offered not a drachm more. You didn’t put in the effort because you didn’t want to fuck me. That’s all it is. As simple as that.

I want to forgive you all your mistakes. All your shortcomings, even if I suspect you won’t forgive mine. What I find hardest to let go of is that I believed you when you told me you loved me, even when you’d offered few to no ways in which this love manifested itself. I trusted you and now I find myself wondering if I’ll ever be able to trust another Domme like that again.