Today my dom told me that there is no love, in any relationship. There’s only fondness and lust. That feelings aren’t strong or passionate enough; that love is nothing but a romanticized subject that people made. And, well, what do I actually want from you? I have no idea. He’s words just made me uneasy.

i-could-be-the-walrus:

submissive-seeking:

instructor144:

And well they should. That is one bitter, cynical man right there.

Oh my …..

He doesn’t sound willing to love, or maybe not even capable of love. And that’s okay, some people aren’t. But if YOU want love and a D/s relationship, it’s a problem.

But my dear Anon, don’t you let anyone tell you that love and BDSM don’t coexist.

My resident Sadistic Dominant is my Husband (over 30 years), the Father of our children (both grown now), is my very best friend in the world, and delivers me the gift of tears whenever He sees fit or I am need.

As I type this He’s grilling dinner and there’s rope coiled next to the flogger on His chair.

So, yes it so possible!!!!

Ask @amysubmits , @i-could-be-the-walrus , and soooo many others!!!!

Anon, let me say something here that I bet @instructor144 or @submissive-seeking or anyone else who has gotten to know me here through following my blog probably won’t expect me to say…
I used to feel exactly like your dominant. Really. I used to believe love was this phony, fake show people put on, and there was no way anyone really felt that depth or that passion or that…*whatever that is* that yes, involves fondness and lust, but also this mix of gratitude and wonder and magic and pain and all those other things poets and artists and songwriters try to make tangible and explain. I thought it was all a crock of shit. Because I’d never felt it. I’d only even seen it twice outside of fiction, and those couples were one set of my grandparents and an older uncle and aunt, so I thought that kind of love was something people just didn’t find or have or do anymore. Love was something humanity evolved past, like hanging clothes out to dry on a line instead of putting them in a dryer. Love was old-fashioned and outdated. All the contemporary relationships I saw were based on (at best) your dominant’s assertions of fondness and/or lust. But actually mostly convenience and fatigue from searching for that elusive ‘love’ that wasn’t even real.
All my friends and family members had relationships like these (and they still do for the most part). All those couples were all basically superficially connected friends who could tolerate being around each other for long periods of time and sometimes fucked each other. Honestly, that was my standard for a partner when I met Sir…someone I could live with without wanting to poison their food and who could live with me in the same generally indifferent but benign way. I assumed I’d be settling, and that whoever I met would be settling for me. 
But then I met Sir. And all the love songs made sense. I believed in every sappy, happy ending ever written. Flowers smelled better. Food tasted better. Fireworks. Angels singing. ALL that shit I used to mock and wholly dismiss. Holy crap, read my blog. I’ve been with Sir going on fifteen years now, and I’m still a lovesick, lovestruck, lovey pile of love for Sir every day. I’ve been writing fiction since I was ten. All I can even write now are stories about love.
And I’ve met some folks in the years since who have it. A woman I went to high school with told me her love story with her wife and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. The short version is, ‘We were roommates (so…fondness and convenience, etc.), and I was leaving to go on vacation alone. I got in the car and drove away and had to turn around and come home. Because I just couldn’t leave her.’ 
I understand feeling like love isn’t real. And maybe it’s not. I’m not so arrogant to say I know for sure it’s not just a random sequence of neurons firing in the right order to create chemical reactions, etc. But if it’s not real, and it’s all just a constructed grand delusion, I like living in my fantasy world, and I don’t plan to stop. I’ll choose to not wake up from this dream, because the thought of life without it now that I’ve felt it is totally unbearable. And I think it’s real. I’m normally a pretty grounded person, and cynical about a lot of things, but not about love. And because Sir is a serious man of science; an ultra-realist…and He feels it too. 

It all makes sense to me.  Except for what the OP’s Dom says about there being no such thing as love I mean.  Gonna have to call his bluff.

I mean… maybe if he were a scholar of ancient Greek he might be referring to us trying to pack six different meanings into the word “love.”  But, um, there’s a problem with that too.

The Greeks had six distinct words for love!!!

  • Eros refers roughly to passionate, lustful, or sexual love
  • Philia refers roughly to deep friendship
  • Ludus was, roughly, flirtatious or young love
  • Pragma meant, roughly, longstanding or enduring love
  • Agape refers roughly to love of others or love of all or (a big one for Bible fans, “thy neighbor.”)
  • Philautia means, roughly, love of self.

So instead of replacing love, “lust” and “fondness” would be two kinds of love.

Gonna say collect ‘em all!  Mix them.  Match them.  Definitely trade them with your friends!  

All of them.

And especially?  That last one!  It’s just as important as all the rest.