The Double-Edged Sword of Brattiness
“But I’m warning you, I’m kind of a brat.”
“No you’re not. You’re just a girl who hasn’t had firm boundaries and desperately needs them.”This was a few years ago, in my baby sub days. I had been kind of bratty in past relationships, but this Dom was not one to tolerate it. I worried he wouldn’t like me. But it turns out that he was right about me. I had always been bratty because I had a deep need for structure that had never been met. I was bratty because I was clawing for boundaries that weren’t there. I teased because it felt like the only way to be thrown down and ravaged. I intentionally broke rules because it felt like the only way I’d feel that tight control closing in on me. I wasn’t a brat; I was a submissive who craved deep and unrelenting dominance. Ownership. I just didn’t know how to get it.
Now that I understand what I need, I can mostly quell those bratty impulses. When I need to feel my Dominant’s control, I say so in a meta talk. I ask how I can serve. I ask permission for things (and sometimes hope for a “no”). I give my Dominant opportunities to lead. I find ways to feel those firm boundaries within my role, rather than stepping out of it.
But part of me thinks there is still value in brattiness—not in outright disobedience, but maybe in close calls. You approach the electrified fence. You hear the hum. You use something to test it. Maybe you get a quick zap, just to know it’s there and working. But you don’t barrel through the fence. Gently testing the boundaries can be a comforting reminder that they are there and strong. You are submitting to something, not just making it up in your head. A little brattiness can also signal confidence in the dynamic. It’s only when you know the leash is there that you can tug on it a little.
That’s the key—a little. There’s a rush of connection from being put in your place, but it wears off. And then you’re left in a worse place than when you started. It can be tempting to push at the boundaries, especially when you desperately need to feel them. But brattiness is not giving your Dominant opportunities to lead. You cannot disobey your way to firm boundaries and deep ownership. Playfulness is one thing, but intentional disobedience is toxic to the dynamic. Instead, you lean in. You ask permission. You have open, honest conversations about what you need and what is missing. Brattiness may make a spark, but it’s rarely enough to build a fire.
It has taken me some time to figure it out. But no, I’m not a brat. I like to say that I’m a good girl…96.2% of the time.
The precision of that 96.2% made me chuckle. The money shot: “You cannot disobey your way to firm boundaries and deep ownership. Playfulness is one thing, but intentional disobedience is toxic to the dynamic.”
Gonna echo all of the above because, if nothing else, three times’ the charm.
“You cannot disobey your way to firm boundaries and deep ownership. Playfulness is one thing, but intentional disobedience is toxic to the dynamic.”
Playful brattiness is fine. Fun even. A little testing is ok but really there are better ways to confirm trust, and waaay better ways to get reassurance when you’re insecure. Chain yanking and tantrums is just a relationship-alienating pain in the ass. And complete lack of control speaks for itself. Your Dom or Daddy is not your prosthetic self-respect.
